Hangar 22
by Rob O'Hara (2011)

An out-of-luck computer programmer finds more than just a job opportunity in a mysterious government facility.

action: %
response: It is the hottest summer of all time (or at least it feels that way now that your electricity has been cut off). Your lack of employment has finally caught up with you. Your funds have been depleted and your pockets are empty. Last month's essentials (cable television and Internet access) are now but sweet memories. The lack of air conditioning feels like the final straw. You were really hoping to starve to death at a comfortable 68 degrees.

Yesterday for lunch you boiled and ate two hot dog wieners. For dinner, you drank the water you boiled them in. (Mmm, "Hot Dog Soup".) So far your dignity has kept you from rummaging through trash cans for food, but it's starting to sound like a viable option. Just the thought of sinking your teeth into someone else's left over pizza crust makes your mouth water.

The current economy has made it hell for a spoiled, out-of-work computer programmer such as yourself to find work. It wasn't too long ago that a five-figure salary seemed beneath you; today, given your current state of affairs, you would accept four. It's time to find a job and find some food, and find them today.



 Type ABOUT. Need a list of common commands? Type COMMANDS.)

Your front door is closed, which prevents people outside from coming in, and vice versa (it's called physics).

You can also see a couch, a fish bowl, an entertainment center and a coffee table (on which is a remote control) here.
action: About yourself
response: You look roughly like an out of work computer programmer ... which, coincidentally, is exactly what you are. Your clothes are baggier than normal, thanks to your mandatory recent "low-food-intake" diet. Years of sitting behind computer keyboards have given you lean fingers and a pot belly, but when push comes to shove, you clean up nice.
action: You take the remote
response: Taken.
action: You look at the remote
response: If buttons are any measurement of manhood, owning this remote makes you a stud among studs. Back in the day, this bad mamma-jamma controlled everything you owned: your television, your DVD player, your cable box, your stereo, your coffee pot, and sometimes even your neighbor's automatic garage door. Over the past few months you've sold everything the remote used to control, but you keep the remote as a reminder of happier times.
action: You look around
response: While your living room isn't much to look at, you call it home. Back when you were working 80 hours a week, you had no time to fix the place up. Now that you have all the time in the world, you have no money. Even in hard times, you retain your sense of irony. Your ratty couch sits along one wall, facing your cheap (and empty) entertainment center. The front door of your home is to the NORTH. Your dining room lies WEST, and your bedroom is to the SOUTH.

Your front door is closed, which prevents people outside from coming in, and vice versa (it's called physics).

You can also see a couch, a fish bowl, an entertainment center and a coffee table here.
action: You examine the couch
response: The couch is wrapped in an orange and brown floral print, which must've been popular decades ago when the couch was manufactured. The bottom edges of the couch are scuffed and ripped. The main seam that runs along the top is unravelling, and the left-hand cushion literally has a spring poking through the fabric. What few meals you eat are typically eaten here; what food doesn't make it to your mouth usually falls down between the cushions ... which explains the smell.

The couch is at least 40 years old, and looks it. All told, it's one of the nicer things you own.
action: You search the couch
response: Sticking your hand between the cushions reveals a handful of change and an old burrito, both of which you pull out and set aside. Say ... who knows what another search might yield!
action: Continue
response: Reaching waaaaay, waaaaay down inside the couch you feel ... the floor. Cue sad trombone sound effect here.
action: You look at the change
response: It's about a buck's worth of change -- mostly nickels and pennies, some stickier than others.
action: You look at the burrito
response: It's a "Taco Flaco" burrito, which is odd since you haven't eaten there in a couple of weeks now. The burrito is covered in a five-o'clock shadow of green fuzz. Nothing (and I mean NOTHING) good can come from eating this.
action: You look at the center
response: The particle wood bows in the middle where your television used to sit. Your television, DVD player, and stereo used to sit together on the entertainment center. Now, they sit together at Bad Brad's BBQ and Pawn.
action: You look at the fish bowl
response: This large fish bowl is where Goldie, your pet goldfish, used to live. Even when you were at your lowest, Goldie was always there for you. He was a good friend and a good companion, and two days after you ran out of peanut butter, he was a good snack.

The bowl used to contain water, rocks, fake plants, and a little treasure chest that opened and closed. None of those things seemed edible, so after Goldie's demise they all went in the trash. All that's left is the bowl itself.
action: You talk to the burrito
response: That's really a waste of everyone's time.
action: You eat the burrito
response: (first taking the burrito)
Yeah ... no. Here's a short list of things that sound more appetizing to eat: a stack of VCR tapes, your Aunt Ruth's face, your remote control, a used urinal cake, and your own foot.
action: You eat remote
response: While the colored buttons do somewhat resemble Skittles, surely you can find something better to consume. Plus, if you ever get another television, repeatedly standing up and sitting down to change channels would be a real pain in the ass. Literally.
action: You take the bowl
response: Taken.
action: You examine table
response: It's just a cheap table. It's not worth selling, and barely worth owning.
action: You eat the bowl
response: That's plainly inedible.
action: You eat the change
response: (first taking the handful of change)
That's plainly inedible.
action: Look around
response: While your living room isn't much to look at, you call it home. Back when you were working 80 hours a week, you had no time to fix the place up. Now that you have all the time in the world, you have no money. Even in hard times, you retain your sense of irony. Your ratty couch sits along one wall, facing your cheap (and empty) entertainment center. The front door of your home is to the NORTH. Your dining room lies WEST, and your bedroom is to the SOUTH.

Your front door is closed, which prevents people outside from coming in, and vice versa (it's called physics).

You can also see a couch, an entertainment center and a coffee table here.
action: You go to the west
response: The word "room" is a bit of a misnomer; it's more of a nook, and a sparse one at that. In the middle of the room on top of a rug sits a small table and two chairs. On the wall is a small tack where you hang your house key. Your kitchen is to the SOUTH, and the living room is to the EAST.

You can see a house key, a trash can (which is empty) and a table (on which are a napkin and a pen) here.
action: You look at the rug
response: Despite the fact that it slightly smells of urine, the rug really ties the room together.
action: You take all from the table
response: napkin: Removed.
pen: Removed.
action: You look at table
response: The table is old and tired. It gets passed around between family members every time someone has a garage sale. It's ugly, but you don't own it because of its style; you own it because it was free.
action: You examine napkin
response: It's an unused Taco Flaco napkin.
action: You move the rug
response: Tug as you might, the carpet will not move. Ever.
action: You examine the pen
response: You bought two, since the thought og buying only one seemed depressing.

It's a generic ink pen with a black cap. You try to keep one or two on the table.
action: You write on the napkin
response: Using the pen, you write "COUPON" across the top of the napkin in bold letters. Below that in smaller letters, you write "10 TACOS FOR A DOLLAR".
action: You examine the key
response: Sometimes you like to pretend this is the key to the city, given to you by the Mayor himself. In reality, it's the key to your front door. You've never met the Mayor.
action: You look at the can
response: It's a trash can. Sorry, not everything in life is exciting. You want to make things more exciting? Put some taco wrappers in here!
action: You look at the change
response: It's about a buck's worth of change -- mostly nickels and pennies, some stickier than others.
action: Go south
response: The kitchen is small and somewhat dark. Even back when you had electricity, the room wasn't all that impressive. Now, it's essentially useless. All the basics are here (a refrigerator, a stove, a microwave), but without any electricity they aren't of much use. The SOUTH end of the room contains a small pantry. The dining room is to your NORTH.

You can see a coffee mug here.
action: Examine mug
response: The mug proclaims you are the "World's Greatest Dad", and who are you to argue? To date the only thing you've given birth to is unhealthy living conditions, but should you ever actually procreate, you feel like owning the mug gives you a head start. In the coffee mug department, you're the opposite of a procrastinator. You're like a ... precrastinator.
action: About yourself
response: You look roughly like an out of work computer programmer ... which, coincidentally, is exactly what you are. Your clothes are baggier than normal, thanks to your mandatory recent "low-food-intake" diet. Years of sitting behind computer keyboards have given you lean fingers and a pot belly, but when push comes to shove, you clean up nice.
action: You examine the pantry
response: It's to the SOUTH.
action: You get the mug
response: Taken.
action: You go south
response: The pantry is like a closet for food. Back when you had some, this is where you kept it.

You can see a candy bar and a bag of Reese's Pieces here.
action: You take all
response: candy bar: Taken.
bag of Reese's Pieces: Taken.
action: Examine candy bar
response: It's a Three Muskateers bar. Its fairly misshapen from sitting in your hot pantry, but surely it'll still be delicious. The only reason you haven't eaten it is, you can't remember where it came from.
action: You examine Reese'S
response: You remember buying the Reese's Pieces to hand out for Halloween, but you can't remember which year. Reese's have never been a favorite snack of yours, so there they sit, waiting for next year's trick-or-treaters. Fortunately, candy doesn't have a shelf life. (At least that's what the guy at the dollar store told you while checking out. Come to think of it, perhaps he was being sarcastic.)
action: You eat Reese'S
response: Blech, no thanks. You don't even like them when they're fresh, much less a decade old.
action: You eat the bar
response: Not right now. You know what they say, "Candy is dandy, but tacos are ..." Well I can't remember how it goes, but the point is you're in the mood for tacos, not chocolate. Because you know what they say, "Meat can't be beat, while chocolate is ..." Crud. Rhyming is hard.
action: You go north
response: The kitchen is small and somewhat dark. Even back when you had electricity, the room wasn't all that impressive. Now, it's essentially useless. All the basics are here (a refrigerator, a stove, a microwave), but without any electricity they aren't of much use. The SOUTH end of the room contains a small pantry. The dining room is to your NORTH.
action: You go north
response: The word "room" is a bit of a misnomer; it's more of a nook, and a sparse one at that. In the middle of the room on top of a rug sits a small table and two chairs. On the wall is a small tack where you hang your house key. Your kitchen is to the SOUTH, and the living room is to the EAST.

You can see a trash can (which is empty) and a table here.
action: You go east
response: While your living room isn't much to look at, you call it home. Back when you were working 80 hours a week, you had no time to fix the place up. Now that you have all the time in the world, you have no money. Even in hard times, you retain your sense of irony. Your ratty couch sits along one wall, facing your cheap (and empty) entertainment center. The front door of your home is to the NORTH. Your dining room lies WEST, and your bedroom is to the SOUTH.

Your front door is closed, which prevents people outside from coming in, and vice versa (it's called physics).

You can also see a couch, an entertainment center and a coffee table here.
action: Go south
response: This is where "the magic" happens ... if, by "magic", you mean crying yourself to sleep at night while listening to your stomach growl. To make ends meet a few months ago you pawned your bed frame, but kept the mattress. (You would have pawned the mattress too, but "apparently" it had one stain too many.) In the corner is your closet. Your small bathroom is to the EAST. Your living room is back NORTH.

You can see a mattress here.
action: You examine mattress
response: Your mattress sits on the floor in the corner of your bedroom -- classy, for sure. The mattress has multiple small stains, and covers a larger stain on the carpet beneath. A wrinkled sheet covers the stains.
action: You examine the stain
response: Body fluid, of some type. You often wonder whose ...
action: You examine sheet
response: It's a "holy sheet", har har.
action: You take the sheet
response: I'd leave it here; without electricity, it gets cold at night.
action: You examine the closet
response: It's like a pantry, but for clothes. There's no door blocking your view of your clothes. You didn't pawn it, it just fell off one day and you never put it back on.
action: You look in closet
response: It's full of clothes and shoes and ties and spiders. Nothing you need at the moment.
action: You look at the spiders
response: You don't see any at the moment, thank goodness. Perhaps they're hiding for fear of being eaten by you.
action: You look at the clothes
response: For as broke as you are, your wardrobe doesn't look half bad. Should you land a job, you should have no problem finding something to wear.
action: Go east
response: You enter the bathroom and, like Elvis, take care of business. When finished you flush, wash and dry your hands (even though nobody was looking -- good job!) and re-enter your bedroom.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying:
a bag of Reese's Pieces
a candy bar
a coffee mug
a coupon
a house key
a pen
a handful of change
a fish bowl
a burrito
a remote control
action: You look at your surroundings
response: This is where "the magic" happens ... if, by "magic", you mean crying yourself to sleep at night while listening to your stomach growl. To make ends meet a few months ago you pawned your bed frame, but kept the mattress. (You would have pawned the mattress too, but "apparently" it had one stain too many.) In the corner is your closet. Your small bathroom is to the EAST. Your living room is back NORTH.

You can see a mattress here.
action: You unlock the front door with the house key
response: That's unlocked at the moment.
action: You open the door
response: You open the front door.
action: Go north
response: Like the inside of your house, the front porch is small and cozy. When you first moved in you bought a small chair and placed it on the porch with dreams of spending your evenings drinking beer and enjoying the scenery. You ran out of money for beer months ago, and the scenery consists of the dog across the street that continually barks and neighborhood kids that give you the finger everytime they see you. These days the porch serves as a place to put your chair and mount your mailbox. Your driveway is EAST from here; your house is back to the SOUTH.

The front door is open, potentially letting in heat, flies, and bill collectors.

You can also see a mailbox (which is closed) and a man here.
action: You examine man
response: Wearing a black suit, white shirt, black tie, black gloves and sunglasses, the man looks more like one of the Blues Brothers than a door-to-door salesman. He certainly doesn't look like any bill collector you've ever seen, and you've seen your share. The man looks more like one of the Men in Black, and not in a funny "Will Smith" kind of way. In his left hand, the man carries a clipboard.
action: You look at the mailbox
response: The mailbox is small and rusty. Although all you get are bills and collection notices these days, this used to be where your Netflix movies arrived. Boy, you sure miss Netflix. With over 60,000 titles and 20 million members in the United States and Canada, Netflix is the world's leading Internet subscription service for enjoying movies and TV shows. For $7.99 a month, Netflix members can instantly watch unlimited movies and TV episodes streamed over the Internet to PCs, Macs and TVs. Among the large and expanding base of devices streaming from Netflix are Microsoft's Xbox 360, Nintendo's Wii and Sony's PS3 consoles; an array of Blu-ray disc players, Internet-connected TVs, home theater systems, digital video recorders and Internet video players; Apple's iPhone, iPad and iPod touch, as well as Apple TV and Google TV. In all, more than 200 devices that stream from Netflix are available in the U.S. and a growing number are available in Canada.

(This mailbox was sponsored by Netflix. To sponsor an object in one of my upcoming games, please contact me.)
action: You open the mailbox
response: You open the mailbox, revealing some bills.
action: You examine the bills
response: Bills, bills, and more bills. Most days, you don't even read them; by not opening them, you're hoping to claim "plausible deniability".
action: You talk to the man
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "Can I help you?"
2: "Beat it, Elwood."
action: You lock the door
response: What do you want to say to the man?
action: 1
response: Enter a number between 0 and 2.

"Can I help you?", you ask the man.

"On the contrary, I believe it is I who can help you," the man says. Either this guy is a complete weirdo, or he's doing a perfect impression Agent Smith from The Matrix. "I have been sent by The Agency." (By the way he says "The Agency", you assume the words would be capitalized if you ever saw them in print.) We've had your application on file for quite some time now. Are you still looking for work?

0: Say nothing.
1: "Absolutely."
2: "I don't know ... this is kind of creepy."
3: "Definitely not."
action: 2
response: What do you want to say to the man?

"I don't know ... this is kind of creepy," you say to the man.

"My apologies," says the man. "English is not my first language. We received your application from a government job fair you attended several months ago. We have an immediate opening for a skilled programmer, and we think you would be perfect for the job. We can talk more about your salary tomorrow, but the position comes with a six-figure signing bonus, which," the man says as he peers past you into your home with no electricity, "I assume is more than you're making at the moment. I'm sorry if I came off the wrong way. How about it, can we count on you?"

0: Say nothing.
1: "I'm in."
2: "I'm out."
action: 1
response: "I'm in," you say to the man.

"Perrr-r-r-r," the man says, sounding like a bad robot impersonation. The man's suit, in combination with the hot summer sun, has caused him to begin sweating. Is that silver sweat? Or is the guy wearing makeup? Something's definitely not right with this dude. "Perfect," the man manages to say on his second attempt. The man proceeds to muster up the weirdest looking smile you have ever seen -- it's like the guy learned how to smile by looking at pictures of people smiling poorly. "We look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

As you extend your hand in an attempt to shake hands with Captain Creepazoid, he places a business card into it. "The address is on the card."

You look down and see the business card in your hand. When you look up again, you see the man has vanished.
action: You look at the card
response: With black letters printed on an off-white card stock, the business card is as stark as it is bold. "HANGAR 22. 8062 ELM STREET." (And as your grandpa once told you, "Every town has an Elm Street." Wait, that wasn't your grandpa, that was Freddy Krueger from Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare.)
action: You close the door
response: You close the front door.
action: You lock the door
response: What do you want to lock the front door with?
action: You look around
response: Like the inside of your house, the front porch is small and cozy. When you first moved in you bought a small chair and placed it on the porch with dreams of spending your evenings drinking beer and enjoying the scenery. You ran out of money for beer months ago, and the scenery consists of the dog across the street that continually barks and neighborhood kids that give you the finger everytime they see you. These days the porch serves as a place to put your chair and mount your mailbox. Your driveway is EAST from here; your house is back to the SOUTH.

Your front door is closed, which prevents people outside from coming in, and vice versa (it's called physics).

You can also see a mailbox (in which are some bills) here.
action: Close mailbox
response: You close the mailbox.
action: You examine the chair
response: Unlike yourself, the chair appears able to support things. The seat is covered in a thin layer of dust and cobwebs, but it's in pretty good shape compared to most of the furniture inside your house.
action: You take the chair
response: That's hardly portable.
action: Go east
response: Your driveway is where you park your car. It's as interesting as a giant flat slab of concrete can be. To the WEST is your front porch.

You can see an El Camino here.
action: You look at El Camino
response: She's a beauty, isn't she? You still refer to her as the Brown Bomber (in reference to the car's original color), but after thirty hard years of service it's getting more and more difficult to determine where the paint ends and the rust begins. The inside of your El Camino is almost as beautiful as the outside -- which is to say, "not very". Randomly scattered throughout the car are more stains, splotches, and sticky spots than the floor of your average adult theater. The ignition juts slightly from the steering column; someone busted the ignition for you while attempting to steal the car, and it now turns freely without a key.

She burns more fluids than rubber these days, but she's paid for and she still runs. Usually.
action: You drive
response: What, drive around aimlessly? Once inside your car, talk to your GPS and pick a destination.
action: You look at the GPS
response: The GPS is a Sir Guide-A-Lot 350 model -- apparently, a promotional item bundled with Sir Mix-A-Lot's last album, "Where My Homies At?". While the GPS is slow, clunky, and rarely accurate, by far its most annoying feature is the fact that it constantly shouts at you in Sir Mix-A-Lot's voice. (Whoever authorized the combination of a has-been rapper's voice with a barely functional GPS didn't do much in the way of market research.) The only reason you haven't pawned it yet is that "350" denotes not only the model, but also its current value. In pesos. You found the device abandoned in a Taco Flaco bathroom, and each time you use the thing you are convinced that its former owner left it there intentionally. The unit's only redeeming value is its voice recognition feature. You can simply TALK TO GPS and it gives you directions.
action: You talk to the gps
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "Location: HOME"
2: "Location: TACO FLACO"
3: "Location: HANGAR 22."
action: 2
response: What do you want to say to the GPS?

"BUTTERMILK BISCUITS, HEW HEWWWWW!" says Sir Guide-A-Lot. (Jesus, you hate that thing.) After a moment or two of processing, the GPS finishes its calculations, and off you go. The unit calculates a path that leads you through several back alleys you've never seen before and at least one third-world country. Stupid piece of junk. Despite Sir Guide-A-Lot's best effort at losing you, you finally arrive at ...

Even as broke as you are, you can still eat like a king at Taco Flaco. You applied for a job here once but were told you were overqualified, what with your high school degree and all. (It all worked out for the best -- you wouldn't have had the stomach to club the baby chickens needed to make those little bite-sized burritos, anyway.) None of the employees are too bright, which is why your coupon scam continues to work. (For years now you've been handwriting your own "ten tacos for a dollar" coupons.) The staff is rude and the restaurant is dirty, but it's a fact that they make the best tacos in all the land. (And by "the land" I mean, "within three miles of your house".

You can see a Taco Flaco Drive-Thru Sign here.
action: You examine the sign
response: Taco Flaco is known for a lot of things (the quality of their food, the rudeness of their employees, that time someone found a human foot inside their burrito ...), but menu diversity is not one of them. The restaurant's three menu choices have been hand painted on a giant piece of wood:

COMBO 1: Three Tacos, Cinnamon Chunks, Fiesta Surprise, Large Drink: $4.99
COMBO 2: Two Burritos (Chicken, Steak, or "Surprise"), Large "Cabra Vomitar" Shake: $4.99
COMBO 3: Nachos Gigantescos (Caliente and Libre de Enfermedad), Large Warm Milk: $4.99

Attached to the bottom of the sign is a speaker. From it, you hear a sweet angelic voice say, "Order. Now. Rapido, Pendejo ..."
action: You talk to the voice
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "Numero Uno, por favor."
2: "I'll have the number two, please."
3: "Number Three, to go."
4: "Ten tacos for a dollar, please."
5: "This is a robbery."
6: "I don't have any money. Whatcha got for free?"
action: 6
response: What do you want to say to the Taco Flaco Drive-Thru Sign?

"I don't have any money. Whatcha got for free?" you ask. After a moment of silence, the voice at the windows tells you to pull up.

Working the drive-thru window (as usual) is Gloria, the sexiest seniorita to ever don a Taco Flaco uniform. If anyone can make a polyester shirt with a poor drawing of a taco with arms, legs and a smile on it romantic, it's this girl. Her hair, her smile, her fake gold tooth ... there's just nothing about this girl that you don't adore.

Gloria slides the drive-thru window open and spits a loogie directly into your face.

"Thank you, come again," she says, closing the window. It would seem you chose ... poorly.

You are sitting inside your car at the end of the Taco Flaco drive-thru. All the other buildings you can see are vacant (it's not the best part of town). Other Taco Flaco drive-thru customers are behind you, honking their horns. It's time to use the GPS to get you out of this mess.
action: 5
response: What do you want to say to the Taco Flaco Drive-Thru Sign?

"This is a robbery," you say to the drive-thru speaker. "When I get up to the window, I want all the money. In a BAG. With some TACOS. And a DRINK. WITH NO SPIT IN IT!"

After a few moments of silence, the voice asks you a question. "Would you like to add three flautas for a dollar?"

Is this chick messing with you? Doesn't she know how crazy you are? You're about to rob a place you frequent regularly with no mask and nothing remotely resembling a weapon. YOU ARE EL GRINGO LOCO!

"Yeah, sure, I'll take the flautas," you say.

"Okay," the woman responds. "Please drive around."

"Wow, that was pretty easy!" you say to yourself. As you pull up to the drive-thru window, it slides open to reveal not a bag full of money, tacos, three flautas and a drink with no spit in it, but rather the business end of a shotgun.

Just moments ago, you had tacos on the brain. Now, your brains are about to be splattered all over Taco Flaco. Sometimes, the jokes just write themselves. You chuckle nervously.

Adios, El Gringo Loco. Click, Click, BOOM!
action: 4
response: What do you want to say to the Taco Flaco Drive-Thru Sign?

"Ten tacos for a dollar, please," you say with a smirk.

"Chu got a coupon for dat?" asks the voice.

0: Say nothing.
1: "I sure do."
2: "No."
action: 1
response: What do you want to say to the Taco Flaco Drive-Thru Sign?

"I sure do," you respond. From the speaker you hear a long sigh, followed by the words "Pull around."

Standing at the drive-thru window is Gloria, the hottest mamacita in all of Flaco land. Each time you see her you wish she were your age, but you would settle for "legal" (both in terms of age and citizenship).

You place the pathetic coupon and fist full of sticky change into Gloria's soft hand. In return, Gloria hands you ten delicious tacos. Score!

You are sitting inside your car at the end of the Taco Flaco drive-thru. All the other buildings you can see are vacant (it's not the best part of town). Other Taco Flaco drive-thru customers are behind you, honking their horns. It's time to use the GPS to get you out of this mess.
action: You talk to GPS
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "Location: HOME"
2: "Location: TACO FLACO"
3: "Location: HANGAR 22."
action: 1
response: What do you want to say to the GPS?
"Home," you say to the GPS.
Sir Guide-A-Lot maps out the quickest route to your home. You follow it, and arrive safely.

Driveway (in the El Camino)
Your driveway is where you park your car. It's as interesting as a giant flat slab of concrete can be. To the WEST is your front porch.

You are inside your El Camino. Mounted to the dash with copious amounts of duct tape is your voice activated GPS. You can't find anything without it.
action: You eat TACOS
response: You unwrap the first taco slowly, savoring the smell of the meat and the sound of the crinkling paper. You take a bite -- and another, and another. With the first taco shoved completely in your mouth, you unwrap the second. Like a kid on Christmas, you open each taco faster than the previous one. Teeth gnashing, you rip through the pile of tacos like a buzzsaw. Each taco is like a box of Cracker Jacks with a surprise inside (a fingernail here, a cigarette butt there), but you don't let that stop you. Before you know it all ten tacos have been consumed, leaving only a pile of wrappers behind. You. Feel. GREAT!

After eating, all that's left in your hands is a big pile of wrappers. Say, you should put THOSE in the TRASH!
action: You leave
response: You get out of the El Camino.

Your driveway is where you park your car. It's as interesting as a giant flat slab of concrete can be. To the WEST is your front porch.

You can see an El Camino here.
action: Go west
response: Like the inside of your house, the front porch is small and cozy. When you first moved in you bought a small chair and placed it on the porch with dreams of spending your evenings drinking beer and enjoying the scenery. You ran out of money for beer months ago, and the scenery consists of the dog across the street that continually barks and neighborhood kids that give you the finger everytime they see you. These days the porch serves as a place to put your chair and mount your mailbox. Your driveway is EAST from here; your house is back to the SOUTH.

Your front door is closed, which prevents people outside from coming in, and vice versa (it's called physics).

You can also see a mailbox (which is closed) here.
action: You unlock the door with the key
response: You open the lock with ease. I suppose if the computer thing falls through, you could always become a locksmith.
action: You unlock the front door with the house key
response: That's unlocked at the moment.
action: You open the door
response: You open the front door.
action: Go south
response: While your living room isn't much to look at, you call it home. Back when you were working 80 hours a week, you had no time to fix the place up. Now that you have all the time in the world, you have no money. Even in hard times, you retain your sense of irony. Your ratty couch sits along one wall, facing your cheap (and empty) entertainment center. The front door of your home is to the NORTH. Your dining room lies WEST, and your bedroom is to the SOUTH.

The front door is open, potentially letting in heat, flies, and bill collectors.

You can also see a couch, an entertainment center and a coffee table here.
action: You go west
response: The word "room" is a bit of a misnomer; it's more of a nook, and a sparse one at that. In the middle of the room on top of a rug sits a small table and two chairs. On the wall is a small tack where you hang your house key. Your kitchen is to the SOUTH, and the living room is to the EAST.

You can see a trash can (which is empty) and a table here.
action: You sit
response: What do you want to sit on top of?
action: You put the wrappers in the trash
response: (the trash can)
What a good boy scout you are!

Yawn. It's about time to sleep, don't you think?
action: Sleep
response: You close your eyes and, with a smile on your face for the first time in weeks, you drift off to sleep.

It's morning, you think. Confused, you look around and realize you must be at Hangar 22. While trying to remember how you got here, you hear a familiar voice.

"Hi Honey," the voice says. You turn around to see Gloria from Taco Flaco standing behind you. Honey? What in the world is going on here?

"I'm so glad you're home," she says. Home? As Gloria leans over to give you a kiss on the cheek, her moustache tickles your face. As you pull back you realize Gloria has become your mother -- well, her face has anyway. Recoiling, you see your mother now has the body of a chimpanzee. "Get back here!" you shout as your monkey mother begins climbing up some medical equipment. Just when you realize your mom is about to begin flinging poo at you, an alarm sounds! Wait, that sounds like ...

... your alarm clock. You sit straight up in bed, turning off your alarm with one hand and checking your chest for any signs of monkey poo with the other. Jesus Christ, just what kind of meat has Taco Flaco been serving lately?

Compared to your dream, the rest of your morning is surprisingly normal. Although you haven't done it in months, you fumble through your old morning routine of cleaning, grooming and dressing yourself. You look great, and you feel great.

Scooping up all the items you collected during yesterday's adventure (you never know what could come in handy on the first day of a new job!), you head outside. You feel like a new man. It's time to get to work!

Like the inside of your house, the front porch is small and cozy. When you first moved in you bought a small chair and placed it on the porch with dreams of spending your evenings drinking beer and enjoying the scenery. You ran out of money for beer months ago, and the scenery consists of the dog across the street that continually barks and neighborhood kids that give you the finger everytime they see you. These days the porch serves as a place to put your chair and mount your mailbox. Your driveway is EAST from here; your house is back to the SOUTH.

Your front door is closed, which prevents people outside from coming in, and vice versa (it's called physics).

You can also see a mailbox (which is closed) here.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying:
a business card
a bag of Reese's Pieces
a candy bar
a coffee mug
a pen
a fish bowl
a burrito
a remote control
action: About yourself
response: You look roughly like an out of work computer programmer ... which, coincidentally, is exactly what you are. Your clothes are baggier than normal, thanks to your mandatory recent "low-food-intake" diet. Years of sitting behind computer keyboards have given you lean fingers and a pot belly, but when push comes to shove, you clean up nice.
action: You open the mailbox
response: You open the mailbox, revealing some bills.
action: You examine the bills
response: Bills, bills, and more bills. Most days, you don't even read them; by not opening them, you're hoping to claim "plausible deniability".
action: You open the door
response: The door is locked, and you seem to have lost your key! Go to work; you can figure this out later.
action: Go east
response: Your driveway is where you park your car. It's as interesting as a giant flat slab of concrete can be. To the WEST is your front porch.

You can see an El Camino here.
action: You talk to GPS
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "Location: HOME"
2: "Location: TACO FLACO"
3: "Location: HANGAR 22."
action: 3
response: What do you want to say to the GPS?

"LET'S GO, 'CUZ THE POSSE'S ON BROADWAY," says Sir Guide-A-Lot. You suspect Sir Guide-A-Lot secretly enjoys leading you around in circles, which would be funnier if the Brown Bomber didn't get such terrible gas mileage.

You pull up to what you assume is Hangar 22. Funny, you've been on this street before but never noticed this building. Maybe you just weren't looking for it.

You are sitting in your El Camino facing east, but a large metal cross-bar prevents you from continuing in that direction. Directly outside your driver side window is a guard shack. The shack sits on a small patch of grass which is mostly immaculate, save for a small pile of litter.

You can see a guard here.
action: You talk to the guard
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "Excuse me. Is this Hangar 22?"
2: "Screw you, Copper!"
action: 1
response: What do you want to say to the guard?

"Excuse me. Is this Hangar 22?" you ask the guard.

"Depends," the guard says, approaching you. "Do you have business here?"

0: Say nothing.
1: "I sure do. I work here now."
2: "Yes. I'm selling Girl Scout cookies."
action: 1
response: What do you want to say to the guard?

"I sure do. I work here now," you say to the guard.

The guard looks down at his clipboard.

"Sorry," the guard says. Nobody notified me about any new hires today. I'll have to radio HQ and see what's going on. Make yourself comfortable, this could take hours."

You hear an odd rumble from the El Camino's engine. Wait, that wasn't your engine. It was the guard's stomach.
action: You examine the litter
response: You recognize the pile of trash as discarded Taco Flaco wrappers.
action: You give the burrito to the guard
response: "Mmm, Mmm, MMM!" says the guard as he sinks his teeth into the moldy burrito. "Is this the new minty burrito?" the guard asks, in reference to the burrito's greenish hue. It's true what they say: the way to a security guard's heart is his big fat stomach. "Listen man," the guard says with mold on his teeth, "this paperwork stuff can take forever, so I'm going to go ahead and buzz you in -- on your way home, stop by here and I'll have a permanent badge waiting for you. You can get a temporary badge from Mr. Mordant. First door on your left as you walk in."

The guard presses a button and the giant bar blocking your path begins to lift. You pull forward and park in the first available spot.

"Thanks again for the grub," says the guard as you pass by.

You are standing in the parking lot of Hangar 22. Multiple cars, including yours, are parked here. Several security cameras sit high above the parking lot, pointed at your face. A tall, black fence runs along the NORTH and SOUTH ends of the parking lot. The guard shack lies behind you to the WEST. To your EAST is a giant hangar. The side of the hangar facing you has no windows and a single red door.

You can see some cameras, some cars and an El Camino here.
action: You look at cameras
response: Some of the cameras are out in the open. Others are partially concealed. You suspect there are even more, well-hidden ones. All of the you can see are pointed directly at you.
action: You examine the cars
response: The cars belong to other employees. You feel guilty peering into them with so many security cameras pointed at you.
action: You examine the red door
response: The door is off to the EAST. Painted on the door, faded but still readable, are the numbers "22". You're pretty sure that's the door the guard was referring to.
action: Go east
response: As you approach the red door, you hear a buzzing sound. You open the door and enter Hangar 22.

You are standing at the west end of a long hallway. The walls, ceiling, and other doors are all various shades of gray. Immediately to your WEST is the red door you entered through. The door to your NORTH has a small plaque that reads "IN PROCESSING". The door to your SOUTH has a small plaque that reads "INTERROGATION". The hallway continues EAST from here. You can see more doors in that direction.
action: Go north
response: As you reach down toward the handle, the door flies open and you find yourself standing face to face with the same creepy guy that came to your house yesterday. Recognizing you, the man makes a facial expression resembling a smile.

"Oh! Hello there," the man says. "Welcome to Hangar 22!" The man glances at your shirt and, realizing you aren't wearing an access badge, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a "New Employee" sticker. While mumbling something about the guards at the guard gate, he applies the sticker to your shirt and says, "That'll do for now."

From the INTERROGATION ROOM, you can hear loud shouting. "If you'll excuse me I've ... had something come up," he says, his black eyes shifting to the door behind you. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

With that, the man pushes past you and slips into the INTERROGATION ROOM, leaving the door to the IN PROCESSING ajar.
action: Go north
response: This is the "In Processing" room, a place where (you assume) new employees are processed. A military-grade metal desk sits on one side of the room. The desk is covered with papers and various odds and ends. Multiple maps adorn the walls. Directly behind the desk hangs a large portrait.

You can see a desk here.
action: You look at the desk
response: The desk is solid metal and weighs a ton. Scattered papers cover the top of the desk. The backside of the desk contains multiple drawers.
action: You look at the papers
response: It would take you months to read all of them. Quickly skimming through the piles, you notice most of them appear to be official government documents. The piece of paper on top contains an interesting handwritten note. "TO DO," the note reads. "01: Meet Glitzenbork for sushi after work. 02: Pick up dry cleaning. 03: Get new "recruits" to the organ-harvesting chamber, stat."

Well well well, sounds like something fishy's going on around here. Or maybe that's just the sushi.
action: You examine the drawers
response: All but one of the desk's drawers are locked.
action: You open the drawer
response: In the unlocked desk drawer you spot a keycard.
action: You look at the portrait
response: The painting hanging directly behind the desk has three men in it. The man on the left is the creepy creepazoid you just ran into. In fellow in the middle is a rough-looking military man (the flat top gives it away). The "thing" on the right appears to have the head of a giant fly, and giant, hairy arms with pinchers for hands. The fly-man's right pincher is up behind the military man's head, making bunny ears. Whoever painted the portrait obviously had a good sense of humor. Must've been an expensive gag gift.
action: You take the keycard
response: Taken.
action: You examine the keycard
response: The keycard is the same size as a credit card, and has a microchip visibly embedded in it. The card is black; across the back, the card reads "ALL ACCESS" in red letters.
action: You examine the maps
response: Various interstellar maps cover the walls. You spend a moment trying to find The Big Dipper, but can't seem to locate it. Multiple stars and planets are marked and named, but you don't recognize any of them.
action: You touch yourself
response: If you think that'll help.
action: You look at the sticker
response: The green, triangular sticker clearly identifies you as a new employee. And in case anyone forgets, the sticker has the words "NEW EMPLOYEE" printed across it in bold, black letters.
action: You go to the south
response: You are standing at the west end of a long hallway. All the walls, ceiling, and other doors have been painted a drab shade of gray, save for the red door you entered through, which is directly to your WEST. The door to your NORTH, which is now open, has a small plaque that reads "IN PROCESSING". The door to your SOUTH has a small plaque that reads "INTERROGATION". The hallway continues EAST from here. You can see more doors in that direction.
action: You write on the sticker
response: It's not that you COULDN'T, but more that you don't NEED to ...
action: You go to the east
response: You are standing in a hallway. The walls, ceiling, and doors are all various shades of gray. To your NORTH is a door marked "ASTRONAUT LOUNGE". To your SOUTH is a door marked "OBSERVATION". The hallway leads both EAST and WEST, where you can see more doors.
action: You wear the fish bowl
response: You put on the fish bowl.
action: Go north
response: The Astronaut Lounge resembles a cafeteria from the 1950s. The floor is a little whiter than the walls, but neither one is particularly white. Along one wall sits a vending machine and a refrigerator, and a television sits in the corner. Scattered around the room are tables and chairs of various shapes, sizes and colors. An astronaut sits at one of the tables.

You can see a vending machine, a refrigerator (which is closed), an astronaut, some tables (on which is a pair of gloves) and a television here.
action: You examine the vending machine
response: The vending machine is stocked with various flavors of freeze-dried Astronaut Ice Cream. It's also filled with cobwebs, and doesn't appear to have worked in quite some time.
action: You open the refrigerator
response: Inside the fridge you discover dozens of bottles of Tang.
action: You look at the refrigerator
response: The refrigerator is old school and industrial strength. If you ever find yourself next to an atomic bomb that's about to go off, this is the refrigerator you want to take shelter in. There is a handwritten note taped to the front of the fridge.
action: You read the note
response: "STOP TAKING OTHER PEOPLE'S STUFF. I MEAN IT."
action: You examine the Tang
response: Tang, the official drink of NASA and astronauts worldwide. Each bottle of Tang has someone's name on it. "Alan", "Pootie", "Wu", and so on.
action: You examine Astronaut
response: He's an astronaut, alright.
action: You look at the tv
response: The television is the only item in the room younger than you.
The television is currently switched off.
action: You turn on tv
response: "I wish," laments the astronaut. "The buttons are broken and someone lost the remote.
action: You examine tables
response: The tables vary in height and size. At one table sits an astronaut.
action: You look at the remote
response: If buttons are any measurement of manhood, owning this remote makes you a stud among studs. Back in the day, this bad mamma-jamma controlled everything you owned: your television, your DVD player, your cable box, your stereo, your coffee pot, and sometimes even your neighbor's automatic garage door. Over the past few months you've sold everything the remote used to control, but you keep the remote as a reminder of happier times.
action: You press the remote
response: Try USE REMOTE.
action: You use the remote
response: Using your remote control, you flip on the television. Immediately, the astronaut's attention turns from you to the television.

"Oh boy, Lost in Space -- my favorite!", he says.
action: You take the gloves
response: Taken.
action: You examine the gloves
response: The gloves are big and white, like your mama. They look like something either an astronaut or Mickey Mouse would wear.
action: You talk to Astronaut
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "Howdy."
2: "Why so sad?"
3: "Nice gloves."
4: "Ask about Tang and Ice Cream."
action: 3
response: What do you want to say to the astronaut?

"Nice gloves," you say to the astronaut.

"Government issue," he replies. "They're pretty hard to come by. You'll definitely need a pair before entering the hangar. They keep out the radiation, and keep your jazz hands warm," he says, saving his hands around in the air all silly-like for a moment.

0: Say nothing.
1: "What's in the hangar?"
action: 1
response: What do you want to say to the astronaut?

The astronaut rolls his eyes. "They don't do much of an in briefing here anymore, do they? The hangar is where the UFO is parked. It's also where astronauts take off from. There's all kinds of radiation in there, so they won't let you in unless you're wearing a spacesuit, gloves, and a helmet."
action: You talk to Astronaut
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "Howdy."
2: "Why so sad?"
3: "Ask about Tang and Ice Cream."
action: 3
response: What do you want to say to the astronaut?

"They're just props," he says. "Makes it look more like a real lounge."
action: You talk to Astronaut
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "Howdy."
2: "Why so sad?"
action: 2
response: What do you want to say to the astronaut?

"Not sad ... bored," says the astronaut. "Just waiting for the next shuttle to launch. I used to sit in here and watch television while waiting but someone lost the remote."
action: You talk to Astronaut
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "Howdy."
action: 1
response: What do you want to say to the astronaut?

"Howdy," you say to the astronaut. The man, obviously bored and tired, nods in your general direction.
action: Look around
response: The Astronaut Lounge resembles a cafeteria from the 1950s. The floor is a little whiter than the walls, but neither one is particularly white. Along one wall sits a vending machine and a refrigerator, and a television sits in the corner. Scattered around the room are tables and chairs of various shapes, sizes and colors. An astronaut sits at one of the tables.

You can see a vending machine, a refrigerator (in which is a cans of Tang), an astronaut, some tables and a television here.
action: You go south
response: You are standing in a hallway. The walls, ceiling, and doors are all various shades of gray. To your NORTH is a door marked "ASTRONAUT LOUNGE". To your SOUTH is a door marked "OBSERVATION". The hallway leads both EAST and WEST, where you can see more doors.
action: You go to the south
response: True to its name, the Observation Room has a long window that allows people in this room to view what is happening in the Interrogation Room.

You can see a window, a table and a chair here.
action: You examine the window
response: The one-way window allows people in the Observation Room to see what's happening in the Interrogation Room, but not vice versa. (Thus, "one-way".) Through the window, you can see clearly see two people interrogating a third. One of the interrogators is "The Creep". The other is a solidly-built military man.

The third man, you quickly realize, is not a man at all. He looks more like a cross between an octopus and supreme pizza.
action: You look at Creep
response: The Man in Black in leaning up against the door. At first it looks like he's trying to keep something out, although you quickly realize he's probably trying to keep the giant octopus pizza in.
action: You examine military
response: The military man has a crew cut and muscles on his muscles. Veins bulge from his neck as he shakes his fist in the face of the giant octopus pizza. At least you think that's its face.
action: You examine Pizza
response: The giant Octopus Pizza is waving its tentacles around in a threatening manner, leaving slimy hints of itself all over the walls. The giant Octopus Pizza makes a loud, horrible sound, like a cross between a someone being strangled, and Dane Cook.
action: You examine table
response: The table has four legs and a table top. It's made of metal. By the rusty rings on the surface, you suspect whoever usually sits here doesn't use a coaster.
action: You look at the chair
response: It doesn't look particularly comfortable. Based on the direction it's facing, you assume people sit in the chair at the table and watch interrogations.
action: Go east
response: You are standing in a hallway. The walls, ceiling, and doors are all various shades of gray. A small sign on the door to your NORTH reads "DRESSING ROOM". A small sign on the door to your SOUTH reads "TOP SECRET". The hallway leads both EAST and WEST. To the EAST, the hallway gets very dark, very quickly. On the wall hangs what appears to be an alarm system, complete with a blinking red light and some text displayed on a small screen.

You can see an alarm system here.
action: You look at the alarm system
response: Using the internationally recognized language of a red flashing light, the alarm indicates to you that you should probably not walk past it. Any possible misunderstanding of the flashing red light is confirmed by text on a small LCD screen that reads, "ALARM is currently ARMED".
action: You use remote
response: The remote doesn't appear to affect anything ... here.
action: You go north
response: You are standing in the dressing room, a room where (and again, you're assuming) people dress and undress. Overall, the room is pretty drab. A metal locker leans against the wall. A few benches line the floor.

You can see some benches and a metal locker (which is closed) here.
action: You examine benches
response: There are several benches here in the dressing room. There's no real mystery to them; people sit on them while dressing.
action: You open the locker
response: You open the metal locker, revealing a spacesuit, a t-shirt, a costume and some overalls.
action: You examine the costume
response: The costume looks similar to the astronaut spacesuit, except it has four arm sleeves. Man, Christmas parties around his place must be a hoot, what with all the funny costumes such as this one!
action: You examine the spacesuit
response: The spacesuit looks just like the ones astronauts wear, based on your knowledge of such things, most of which came from movies and cartoons.It's white and fluffy, like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, and approximately your size. (The spacesuit, not the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man!) There's a name tag sewn to the front: "Rodzinski".
action: You look at the shirt
response: It's a white t-shirt with printing on the front that reads, "I came all the way from Mzzrxklpletic-405 and all I got was this stupid t-shirt." The shirt's tag states it is a 50/50 blend of cotton and blrbyxipunkonium.
action: You examine the overalls
response: The overalls are covered in dry blood, and appear to have been made for someone about eight-foot-three. Strange things are afoot at the local Hangar 22.
action: Wear the spacesuit
response: (first taking the spacesuit)
You put on the spacesuit.
action: You wear the gloves
response: You know, while wearing the gloves, spacesuit, and fish bowl, you could pass for an astronaut ...You put on the pair of gloves.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: You are standing in the dressing room, a room where (and again, you're assuming) people dress and undress. Overall, the room is pretty drab. A metal locker leans against the wall. A few benches line the floor.

You can see some benches and a metal locker (in which are a t-shirt, a costume and some overalls) here.
action: You wear the bowl
response: You're already wearing that!
action: You get all from the locker
response: t-shirt: Removed.
costume: Removed.
overalls: Removed.
action: You wear the costume
response: Unless you've grown a couple of arms since you left the house this morning, I don't think it'll fit
action: You wear the overalls
response: You would need to spend four-to-six weeks being stretched on a torturous medieval device to be tall enough to wear these overalls. And even if you did, they'd still be covered in someone else's dried blood.

You know, the more I think about it, the fact that you would even WANT to wear someone else's blood-covered overalls raises some flags. Assuming you don't get killed on your first day of work, you might want to see if your new job benefits include a psychological evaluation.

Really? Giant bloody overalls?
action: Go south
response: You are standing in a hallway. The walls, ceiling, and doors are all various shades of gray. A small sign on the door to your NORTH reads "DRESSING ROOM". A small sign on the door to your SOUTH reads "TOP SECRET". The hallway leads both EAST and WEST. To the EAST, the hallway gets very dark, very quickly. On the wall hangs what appears to be an alarm system, complete with a blinking red light and some text displayed on a small screen.

You can see an alarm system here.
action: Go south
response: You are standing in the entrance to a large hangar. The room is so large and the lights are so dim that your eyes have a difficult time adjusting. Next to the door is a small table.

Just past the table is a cage. Off in the distance, you can make out the shape of a UFO.

You can see a cage (which is closed) (in which is an alien) and a table (on which is a flower pot) here.
action: You look at the table
response: It's too dark to make out too many details, but from what you can tell it looks like all the other tables you've seen thus far.
action: You examine the cage
response: The cage resembles a jail cell. The bars glow blue, and appear to be electrified. A lock prevents the cage door from opening.
action: You examine the alien
response: The alien looks like every alien you've ever seen on television. He's short and gray, with big black eyes and a bigger head.

The alien looks quite sad. Apparently it's no fun, being an illegal alie...un.
action: You examine pot
response: In an attempt to freshen up the place, someone brought a flower pot with a few flowers in it. Unfortunately, no one has watered the flowers in quite some time. They appear sad and wilted like your grandpa.
action: You look at UFO
response: It's tough to make out the details in the low light, but you can clearly discern the outline of a classic saucer-shaped UFO. A framework has been constructed around the UFO. Several workers appear to be looking at and/or working on the craft.
action: You talk to the alien
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "Who ... ARE you?"
2: "If I let you out, will you grant me a wish?"
3: "Where did you come from?"
action: 1
response: What do you want to say to the alien?

"Sup," says the alien, in a sullen voice. "I'm Arfefidedmlioonl, but everybody calls me Arf. I'd shake your hand, but ...". Arf motions toward the electrified cage. "I hope you're here to rescue me, because they're going to kill both of us.

0: Say nothing.
1: "What do you mean, kill both of us?"
2: "Kill us? That's nonsense!"
action: 1
response: What do you want to say to the alien?

"Despite the fact that I zoomed through space, time, and multiple dimensions to get to this planet, apparently my species, most unfortunately, tastes like sushi. I don't know what your story is yet, but based on the fact that you're wearing a fishbowl for a helmet, I'll bet it's a good one."
action: You talk to the alien
response: 0: Say nothing.
1: "If I let you out, will you grant me a wish?"
2: "Where did you come from?"
action: 2
response: What do you want to say to the alien?

"Listen bro -- you get me out of here, we'll go get some coffee, rap, compare war stories, whatever. You can write a tell-all book and sell a million copies for all I care.. Right now, we need to get out of here!"
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a flower pot
some overalls
a costume
a t-shirt
a spacesuit (being worn)
a pair of gloves (being worn)
a keycard
a new employee sticker
a business card
a bag of Reese's Pieces
a candy bar
a coffee mug
a pen
a fish bowl (being worn)
a remote control
action: You give Reese 's pieces tothe alienn
response: You toss the candy into the cage. The alien lets out a small sigh. "I don't want to sound ungrateful but ... eh, you know, it's a little racist. I mean, if I looked like a leprechaun would you have me dance a little jig? No, I mean ... you know, I get it and all, and thanks, but ... man, if it's all the same to you, I'd love some real food. Actually every time I come to this planet, I usually have tacos.
action: You use remote
response: My goodness, is there anything this remote won't do? With the push of a button, the cage door suddenly springs open. The small alien leaps out of the cage and lands directly in front of you. "I'm free!" he shouts loudly, attracting the attention of the workers off in the distance. Uh oh. It's time to get out of here, and fast!

Arf is dragging you by the arm. "Let's go!" he cries.

"Hey!" yells one of the workers. "Arfefidedmlioonl is out of his cage ... and that guy's wearing a fishbowl! Let's get 'em!" The crew of workers quickly transforms into an angry mob. The workers are about 30 feet away from you, and running toward you.
action: You look at the lock
response: The lock appears to be electronic in nature. You can't find a spot to put a key, even if you had one. Which you don't.

Arf is dragging you by the arm. "Let's go!" he cries.

The mob is about 20' feet away, and they look mean (they're mean, they're mean, you know what I mean?)
action: You look around
response: You are standing in the entrance to a large hangar. The room is so large and the lights are so dim that your eyes have a difficult time adjusting. Next to the door is a small table.

Just past the table is a cage. Off in the distance, you can make out the shape of a UFO.

You can see Arf, a cage (which is empty) and a table here.

"However you got here, we should do that, but in reverse!" says Arf.

The mob is about 20' feet away, and they look mean (they're mean, they're mean, you know what I mean?)
action: You give the flower to Arf
response: Arf doesn't seem interested.

Arf is dragging you by the arm. "Let's go!" he cries.

The workers are approximately 10' away now, close enough to see that they mean serious business.
action: You go to the south
response: You can't go that way.

Arf is freaking out. "Let's get out of here!"

The workers are approximately 10' away now, close enough to see that they mean serious business.
action: You go north
response: You are standing in a hallway. The walls, ceiling, and doors are all various shades of gray. A small sign on the door to your NORTH reads "DRESSING ROOM". A small sign on the door to your SOUTH reads "TOP SECRET". The hallway leads both EAST and WEST. To the EAST, the hallway gets very dark, very quickly. On the wall hangs what appears to be an alarm system, complete with a blinking red light and some text displayed on a small screen.

You can see an alarm system here.

"I'm gray, I'm juicy, and don't want to be sushi! Let's go!" says Arf.
action: You look around
response: You are standing in the entrance to a large hangar. The room is so large and the lights are so dim that your eyes have a difficult time adjusting. Next to the door is a small table.

Just past the table is a cage. Off in the distance, you can make out the shape of a UFO.

You can see Arf, a cage (which is empty) and a table here.

Arf is freaking out. "Let's get out of here!"

The workers are approximately 10' away now, close enough to see that they mean serious business.
action: You throw Reese's at the workers
response: Futile.

Arf is freaking out. "Let's get out of here!"

What part about running did you not understand??

I'm not really sure what you expected to happen. As the crowd reaches you, several members of the mob shove you the ground. Looking up you see a bearded man, about your size, with a giant wrench raised above his head. The man squints his eyes together and, noticing the nametag on your spacesuit, asks, "Why exactly are you wearing my suit?"

"This cannot possibly end well," you think to yourself. The giant wrench in Rodzinski's hand agrees.
action: You throw Reese's at the floor
response: Futile.

"I'm gray, I'm juicy, and don't want to be sushi! Let's go!" says Arf.

What part about running did you not understand??

I'm not really sure what you expected to happen. As the crowd reaches you, several members of the mob shove you the ground. Looking up you see a bearded man, about your size, with a giant wrench raised above his head. The man squints his eyes together and, noticing the nametag on your spacesuit, asks, "Why exactly are you wearing my suit?"

"This cannot possibly end well," you think to yourself. The giant wrench in Rodzinski's hand agrees.
action: You go north
response: You are standing in a hallway. The walls, ceiling, and doors are all various shades of gray. A small sign on the door to your NORTH reads "DRESSING ROOM". A small sign on the door to your SOUTH reads "TOP SECRET". The hallway leads both EAST and WEST. To the EAST, the hallway gets very dark, very quickly. On the wall hangs what appears to be an alarm system, complete with a blinking red light and some text displayed on a small screen.

You can see an alarm system here.

Arf is freaking out. "Let's get out of here!"
action: Go east
response: You should be moving away from danger at this point, not towards it.

Arf is dragging you by the arm. "Let's go!" he cries.

What part about escaping did you not understand??

While standing around in the hallway, the door to the hallway bursts open. Before you have time to react, the crowd shoves you the ground. Looking up you see a bearded man, about your size, with a giant wrench raised above his head. The man squints his eyes together and, noticing the nametag on your spacesuit, asks, "Why exactly are you wearing my suit?"

"This cannot possibly end well," you think to yourself. The giant wrench in Rodzinski's hand agrees.
action: You go west
response: You are standing in a hallway. The walls, ceiling, and doors are all various shades of gray. To your NORTH is a door marked "ASTRONAUT LOUNGE". To your SOUTH is a door marked "OBSERVATION". The hallway leads both EAST and WEST, where you can see more doors.

"However you got here, we should do that, but in reverse!" says Arf.

The angry workers are in the hallway, headed your direction!
action: You go west
response: You are standing at the west end of a long hallway. All the walls, ceiling, and other doors have been painted a drab shade of gray, save for the red door you entered through, which is directly to your WEST. The door to your NORTH, which is now open, has a small plaque that reads "IN PROCESSING". The door to your SOUTH has a small plaque that reads "INTERROGATION". The hallway continues EAST from here. You can see more doors in that direction.

Arf is freaking out. "Let's get out of here!"

The mob is gaining on you!
action: Go west
response: Still running at full speed, you plow into door at the end of the hallway. "There!" you shout, pointing at your El Camino in the parking lot.

"You came here in that thing?" asks Arf, running along side you. "You're braver than I thought!"

As the two of you jump into your trusty ride the mob begins to pour out of the building, waving wrenches and hammers and pitchforks in the air. As your brain pauses for a moment to wonder why astronauts and government officials would have pitchforks at their disposal, Arf takes over. The El Camino's engine roars to life, and its tires squeal as the car spins around in a 180 before lurching toward the guard shack and row of tire spikes.

"I got this," says Arf, and with that the El Camino begins to lift up off the ground, sailing up and over the row of tire-shredding spike strips. (It should be noted that on any other day, there would have been an armed security guard standing inside the guard shack ready to shoot you. On this particular day however, that guard is sitting in a Porta-Potty one hundred yards away, wondering why on earth he decided to accept and eat a moldy burrito from a complete stranger.)

As the car continues to rise, you notice the crowd doesn't look so menacing from up here. "We made it," you say to yourself. "We made it!"

"Yep, we made it," confirms Arf. After a brief, uncomfortable moment of silence, you notice Arf looking at you. "And now, it's time to eat," he says, salivating ...

"Know any good taco stands?" he asks.

A few moments later the El Camino touches down in the Taco Flaco drive-thru. "This place has the best tacos in town," you say. The staff of Taco Flaco begins gathering at the window, looking out at the two of you.

"Ah jeez man, let's go," says Arf. You assure him that it's cool and that these are good people, but Arf continues to slump down in his seat. It is then that you hear a voice, an angelic voice you've known for years.

"Arfie? Arfie, is that you in there?" says Gloria from the drive-thru window. "Oh Arfie! I just KNEW you would come back!" Gloria climbs out the drive-thru window, pregnant as ever, with a suitcase in her hand. "I TOLD you," she shouts back at the workers still standing in the drive-thru window. "I TOLD you my baby daddy would come back!"

"Wait ..." you say. "You ... and HER?" you ask Arf in disbelief.

"What can I say," he says, shrugging his shoulders. "Chicks love a dude with a UFO."

"Oh, Arfie baby" says Gloria as she climbs into the passenger seat, forcing Arf to scoot closer to you. "Heeeeey, Glo-bean," he says, faking a little gray smile. Gloria begins kissing Arf on the cheek. "Didja miss me? Didja? Didja? Oh, it's so good to see you! Finally, we can settle down! Just me, you, Arfie junior, and ... wait, how do you know the stupid coupon guy?" she says, looking at you. "And why is he wearing a goldfish bowl on his head?"

"It's a long story," says Arf as the front end of the El Camino begins to lift up off the ground. "Say, is that a Sir Guide-A-Lot 350 GPS? I have one just like it in my ship! Sir Guide-A-Lot?" says Arf.

"Yo, yo, yo," says Sir Guide-A-Lot 350.

"Take us to Mzzrxklpletic-405, please."

"Aw yeah, BABY GOT BACK!" responds Sir Guide-A-Lot.

You hand Arf the "World's Greatest Dad" mug. "I think this belongs to you, bro," you say.

And with that, the El Camino, with you behind the wheel, Gloria using your rear view mirror to put on lipstick, and Arf uncomfortably smooshed between the two of you, takes off like a rocket into the sky. Next Stop: Mzzrxklpletic-405 ...