Post-Christmas Letdown
by E. Joyce (2011)

It's December 26th. Your family has all gone home. Your apartment is a disaster. You have an eggnog hangover. You need to get ready for work. Too bad the Mouse King has parked himself in front of your closet.

action: %
response: It's December 26th. Your family has all gone home. Your apartment is a disaster. You have an eggnog hangover. You need to get ready for work. Too bad the Mouse King has parked himself in front of your closet.

A Holiday Headache by E. Joyce

The room is small, but serviceable. The walls are devoid of any posters or pictures - you keep meaning to put some up, but you never get around to it. It still looks lived-in, though, which is a polite way of saying it's a mess. The door of your closet doesn't quite open all the way because of the way the bed is positioned, but what can you do? There was nowhere else to put it.

The door to the living room and kitchen area is to the west.

The Mouse King stands at the foot of your bed, in front of the closet, with his sword raised.

You can also see your mother's shoes and a gift box (in which are some expensive headphones) here.
action: You examine king
response: Some stupid giant rodent that stands on its - or rather, his - hind legs and has a tiny golden crown perched on his head. He brandishes a sword, and his beady eyes glitter unpleasantly. You wonder if he's the one who's been getting into your kitchen cabinets and chewing on the contents.
action: You look at the shoes
response: Your mother subscribes to the "clean out closet; gift-wrap what you find" school of gift-giving. These shoes are the latest result of that. They are bright red, rhinestone-encrusted, and very heavy, with pointy heels that must be at least five inches high. More weapon than shoe, really.
action: Examine box
response: A nice box patterned with pine trees and snowflakes.

In the gift box are some expensive headphones.
action: You look at the headphones
response: Your brother bought them for you, little knowing that you sold your MP3 player in order to buy him some fancy peripheral for his game console. (Come to think of it, he seemed less enthused about that than you expected. Funny.)  So you've got no use for them now. They are very nice headphones, though.
action: You take the shoes
response: Taken.
action: You wear the shoes
response: They don't look comfortable, and besides, you're pretty sure that old Mrs. Sedutto downstairs will flip out if you start clunking around in these things.
action: You put the shoes in the box
response: You put your mother's shoes into the gift box.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are wearing your underwear, and you have a gift box, some expensive headphones, and a splitting headache.
action: You examine the underwear
response: It's clean, mostly.
action: You give the box to King
response: He eyes the gift box beadily for a moment, then goes for his sword. You snatch your hand away before he cuts it off.
action: You give the headache to King
response: Hmm. You can't give him your headache, of course, but maybe
you could give him a headache...
action: You hit King with the shoes
response: (first taking your mother's shoes)
With power and precision borne of years of weekend amateur softball games (or at least as much of that power and precision as you can muster right now), you hurl your mother's shoes at the Mouse King.

The shoes hit the Mouse King square in the head. He screeches horribly, then flees out the bedroom window.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: The room is small, but serviceable. The walls are devoid of any posters or pictures - you keep meaning to put some up, but you never get around to it. It still looks lived-in, though, which is a polite way of saying it's a mess. The door of your closet doesn't quite open all the way because of the way the bed is positioned, but what can you do? There was nowhere else to put it.

The door to the living room and kitchen area is to the west.
action: You open the closet
response: You open the closet, revealing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
action: Go west
response: A waist-high counter separates the kitchen at the north end of the room from what you charitably think of as the living room. In the living room part is a blue couch, a battered old coffee table, and a small Christmas tree which leans drunkenly to one side; the only other decoration is a calendar hanging on one wall. The kitchen, meanwhile, contains all the usual kitchen stuff, of which the only thing that interests you right now is the coffee maker.

To the east is the door to your bedroom; your bathroom is west, and the front door is south.

A sprig of mistletoe hangs overhead.

A sweater lies on the floor.

The Norse God Baldr is in your kitchen using your coffee machine. And it looks like he's only making enough for one person. How rude - though it's nothing to using someone else's kitchen without asking in the first place. Point is, you can't get your coffee fix while he's hogging the machine, dammit. You'll have to make him go away somehow.

Baldr frowns impatiently at the coffee-maker.
action: You take the mistletoe
response: It's a little too high for you to reach.

Baldr frowns impatiently at the coffee-maker.
action: You examine the sweater
response: A Christmas present from your aunt. It is a color you can only describe as chartreuse (well, or "bright yellowy-green" but "chartreuse" is snappier). Furthermore, it is about five sizes too big for you, which you can't help wondering whether your aunt is trying to tell you something. Like that you're fat. Which you're not. Point is, it's a hideous sweater.

Baldr frowns impatiently at the coffee-maker.
action: You take the sweater
response: Taken.

Baldr goes through your cabinets, apparently looking for the mugs.
action: You throw the sweater at the mistletoe
response: You throw (the missile) at the mistletoe with deadly perfect aim and knock it to the ground, then scoop it up and pocket it. There was probably an easier way to do that, but whatever.

Baldr goes through your cabinets, apparently looking for the mugs.
action: You throw the mistletoe at Baldr
response: Remembering your Ragnarok prophecies (you knew that all those books of mythology weren't a waste of time!), you wave the mistletoe menacingly in Baldr's face. He goes pale - well, paler than he was to begin with - and flinches away from it, then shimmers and vanishes. Probably some kind of god teleportation thing. Oh well, you have access to the coffee machine now, and that's what really matters here.
action: You drink the coffee
response: You down the coffee like you're dying of thirst in a desert.

You feel much more human now. Your mouth still tastes like something died in it, though.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are wearing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and your underwear, and you have a sprig of mistletoe, a sweater, your mother's shoes, a gift box, some expensive headphones, and a splitting headache.
action: Wear sweater
response: You put on the sweater.
action: Look around
response: A waist-high counter separates the kitchen at the north end of the room from what you charitably think of as the living room. In the living room part is a blue couch, a battered old coffee table, and a small Christmas tree which leans drunkenly to one side; the only other decoration is a calendar hanging on one wall. The kitchen, meanwhile, contains all the usual kitchen stuff, of which the only thing that interests you right now is the coffee maker.

To the east is the door to your bedroom; your bathroom is west, and the front door is south.
action: Examine calendar
response: It was a Christmas present from your aunt last year. It has pictures of adorable puppies on it, because pictures of adorable puppies are one of the few interests that you and your aunt actually share. You were sort of hoping she'd give you another calendar this year, but instead she gave you that sweater that's like five sizes too big. Oh well.
action: You look at the table
response: A certain someone who used to live here took the coffee table with him when he moved out (adding insult to injury, although you guess it
was his coffee table), so you got this one off Craigslist as
a replacement. It was only $20, and, well, you get what you pay for. Works well enough for putting things on, though. Like coffee.
action: You look at the tree
response: Decorated with candy canes and cheap yet shiny plastic ornaments, the tree is listing badly, looking like it's about to fall over. It's looked like that ever since you put it in the stand, though, so you're not too worried. It's like the goddamn Leaning Tower of Pisa or something.
action: You remove the sweater
response: You take off the sweater.
action: Go west
response: All this shiny white tile under fluorescent lighting kind of hurts your eyes and makes your headache worse. Anyway, this bathroom is equipped with all the normal bathroom stuff - toilet, sink, mirror, shower.

Tiny Tim sits on your sink, looking up at you with big, soulful eyes. "Happy Christmas, and God bless you," he says.

"I'd like to brush my teeth," you say wearily.

"Of course," says Tiny Tim, "only..."

"Only what?" you say. "Come on, get on with it."

"Only, you see, I haven't any Christmas presents for my dear family, and while of course the true spirit of the season requires no present, only love and-"

"I said get on with it," you snap. You have no patience right now for the ramblings of characters written by authors who were paid by the word.

"Well, all right, I'd like a present," he says. You have the feeling he's not going to leave until you find him something.

On the sink is your toothbrush.
action: You put the headphones in the box
response: You put the expensive headphones into the gift box.
action: You look in the box
response: In the gift box are some expensive headphones.
action: You give the box to Tim
response: You hand Tiny Tim the empty gift box that your brother's present came in. Tiny Tim smiles brightly.

"Oh, but how wonderful!" he says, in the most saccharine of tones. "A useful box to put things in! It's really too kind of you to give this to me!" You really cannot tell if he's being sarcastic or not.

He hops off the sink and hobbles away to wherever Dickens characters go when they're not needed. You breathe a sigh of relief and get on with your tooth-brushing.

The rest of your morning routine proves uneventful, and you even manage to get to work on time - if only just. Which is great, because you're really, really not sure how you'd explain why you were late.
action: You give the headphones to Tim
response: (first taking the expensive headphones)
You hand Tiny Tim the expensive headphones that your brother gave you. It's a bit of a wrench to part with them, but, well, what use have you got for them now?

Tiny Tim turns them over in his little hands a few times. "Er, they're very nice, but... may I ask what exactly they are for?" he says, sounding faintly puzzled.

"Uh, they're a sort of hat," you say, not feeling up to explaining the concept of portable music players to Victorians this morning. You take them from him and put them over your ears. "See? Fashion statement."

You hand the headphones back to him, and he hops off the sink and hobbles away to wherever Dickens characters go when they're not needed. You breathe a sigh of relief and get on with your tooth-brushing.

The rest of your morning routine proves uneventful, and you even manage to get to work on time - if only just. Which is great, because you're really, really not sure how you'd explain why you were late.
action: You give sweater to Tim
response: You hand Tiny Tim the ugly sweater from your aunt; he regards it dubiously. "Well," he says, "I suppose my dear mother will like it."

He hops off the sink and hobbles away to wherever Dickens characters go when they're not needed. You breathe a sigh of relief and get on with your tooth-brushing.

The rest of your morning routine proves uneventful, and you even manage to get to work on time - if only just. Which is great, because you're really, really not sure how you'd explain why you were late.
action: You give the underwear to Tim
response: (first taking your underwear off)
What would be the point of that? You don't have time to shower, anyway.
action: You give the shoes to Tim
response: You hand Tiny Tim your mother's shoes; he regards them dubiously. "Well," he says, "I suppose my dear mother will like it."

He hops off the sink and hobbles away to wherever Dickens characters go when they're not needed. You breathe a sigh of relief and get on with your tooth-brushing.

The rest of your morning routine proves uneventful, and you even manage to get to work on time - if only just. Which is great, because you're really, really not sure how you'd explain why you were late.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are wearing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and your underwear, and you have a sprig of mistletoe, a sweater, your mother's shoes, a gift box, and a splitting headache.
action: You give the jeans to Tim
response: You kinda need to wear those. Your workplace may have a lax dress code, but they frown on people showing up to work in their underwear.
action: Kiss tim
response: Keep your mind on the game.
action: You give mistletoe to Tim
response: You hand Tiny Tim the sprig of mistletoe that was hanging in your living room. Not like you really wanted the stuff in the first place, after all.

"Oh, but how wonderful!" he says, in the most saccharine of tones. "Mistletoe! This is sure to bring Christmas cheer to my family!" You really cannot tell if he's being sarcastic or not.

He hops off the sink and hobbles away to wherever Dickens characters go when they're not needed. You breathe a sigh of relief and get on with your tooth-brushing.

The rest of your morning routine proves uneventful, and you even manage to get to work on time - if only just. Which is great, because you're really, really not sure how you'd explain why you were late.