The Tower of Beef
by Ricardo Signes (2003)

In this short game against the clock, you play as a beef courier who wants to destroy Mr. McBeefy's Beef Imporium from within before the Beef Flu finally destroys you from within. You don't have much time left. Free the cows!

action: %
response: It's taken you years to work your way up from Ketchup Packet Sorter Third Class to your current post: Bad Beef Courier. It's been hard work, and it's taken its toll on you, but it's all been worth it.
With your new clearance, you can finally bring down Mr. McBeefy's vast animal-exploiting empire and set things right.

They said that the Beef Flu was an urban legend, but it's been eating away at you for twenty years. You must hurry: your can tell you haven't much time left.

FREEDOM FOR OUR BOVINE BRETHREN!

MEAT IS MURDER!

Chicks really dig how "sensitive" your activism makes you seem.

Copyright (C) 2003, Ricardo SIGNES
Jacket Speed-IF 2
Please consult REVIEWS and FEELIES

Mr. McBeefy's Beef Imporium
The Beef Imporium -- MBI, to you wage slaves -- stands at the very base of the Tower of Beef. The vast glass ceiling lets you look up into the Tower and see the vast machinery of Mr. McBeefy's Vertical Beef Processing Facility at work. Cows and carcasses swing by at all elevations, ready to be processed from happy heifers into happy meals. Now and then an organ or spurt of blood falls onto the glass ceiling, but it's always quickly cleaned up by one of the janitors. Those lucky bastards get off with the easy work.

The supply room lies to the east, and a sliding door leads out.

Like most days, the place is full of kids. There are two field-trips here, at the moment.
action: Feelies
response: Included with your The Tower of Beef packaging you should find a .010" hypodermic syringe and a 50cc vial containing an infection-guaranteed quantity of a randomly chosen fatal disease. Injection no more than six and no less than three days (for gestation) is recommended for the optimal experience. Upon completion, you will be issued a claim code for an antidote. Please contact Tower of Beef Limited with this code to receive your antidote. (2.95 USD per minute, please allow six to eight weeks for delivery.)
action: Reviews
response: You can't see any such thing.

>>> MORE RELEVANT

Adam Biltcliffe: I love the way the NPCs relentlessly criticise everything the player does.
-- Adam Biltcliffe

The throbbing is unmistakable!
-- D. Jacob Wildstrom

This game leaps forward in time to show the player the effects of a key early decision. My reaction was a Keanu-like 'whoa.'
-- Peter Berman

I HATE THIS GAME SO MUCH! IT GAVE ME SARS!
-- Tablesaw

The completed game map formed an interesting shape, which was a nice touch.
-- Caleb

In most games, instant death puzzles are a flaw. This game cries out for an instant death puzzle to put it out of its misery.
-- Sam Kabo Ashwell

It will make you run right out and steal little packets of ketchup and do crazy things.
-- David Cornelson

>>> LESS RELEVANT

The author gave a fresh perspective to normal day-to-day objects; how they could be used, what they really are. It made me look around my surroundings a bit more carefully.
-- Duchess

The game appeared mostly vertical - i.e., almost all room-to-room movement was via up and down, with  little use of the compass directions.
-- Duncan Cross
action: You examine the kids
response: The kids run around and scream and yell. Occasionally, a teacher points up at a moving carcass and tells the little brats something useful about Beef Science. "Did you know that all human life would perish without beef?" Just as frequently, a kid points up and giggles as a cow rectum splats against the skylight. They are all wearing paper Mr. McBeefy tiaras.

One of the kids points and laughs. "Yeah, way to keep your eyes peeled."
action: About you
response: As good-looking as ever.

One of the kids points and laughs. "Yeah, way to keep your eyes peeled."
action: You kill the kids
response: The kids scatter like a flock of pigeons, and you break off your rush. You must not forget your true goal! One of the chaperones gives you a disappointed look, wondering why you didn't finish the job.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying:
a syringe
action: You inject Beef with the syringe
response: You can only do that to something animate.
action: You inject yourself
response: (with the obnoxious little meat-eating brats)
That doesn't make sense.
You feel your heart THROBBING in your chest. You're definitely getting sicker.
action: You go east
response: The MBI supply room is just a little pantry, well-stocked with beef and beef accessories. MBI is back to the west.

Some ground chuck sits on a sheaf of paper on a counter.
You feel your heart THROBBING in your chest. You're definitely getting sicker.
action: You get Chuck
response: Taken.
action: Inject chuck
response: (into yourself)
That doesn't make sense.
action: You examine Chuck
response: It's a pile of ground chuck laid out on a table, probably for use in McBeefy Beef Tacobeef Mexiburgers (with extra Spic Sauce and Lardonnaise).

Upon close inspection, you realize this is bad beef -- a perfect excuse to head up to the Disposatorium.
action: Go west
response: Mr. McBeefy's Beef Imporium

Like most days, the place is full of kids. There are two field-trips here, at the moment.
A wave of nausea hits you. Your intestines THROB.
action: Up
response: Huge glass walkways lead east and west. Carts full of beef and bones are everywhere, blocking the way. Stairwells lead up and down.

A sign hangs on the wall here.
action: You examine the sign
response: The sign is painted with two big arrows. One points east and reads: THIS WAY TO THE DISPOSATORIUM. The other points west and reads: THIS WAY TO BEEFBURGER PREPARATION.
action: Go east
response: Rows and rows of carts run through the Disposatorium, hauling bad beef to be processed into feed. Other couriers rush in and out, as if their lives depended on it. The manager's office is upstairs; the rumor is that he loves the smell of bad beef.

Couriers rush in and out.
action: You give Beef to the Courier
response: You can only do that to something animate.
action: Go up
response: This small office serves as a refuge for Branch Manager Fat. There's a desk and some computers and paperwork. It's all quite uninteresting. You press your hand to your head, and you can feel the vein in your forehead THROBBING as you clench your teeth.
action: Go downwards
response: Couriers rush in and out.
action: You go to the west
response: A sign hangs on the wall here.
action: Go west
response: You're standing on a precarious walkway above a gigantic meat grinder, where the fresh whole beef is converted into chuck. Overhead, sides of beef swing down from the infinite expanse above and drop into the grinder, which happily consumes them and drops them to the processing floor at the bottom of the stairwell

Peters, the day-shift inspector, is here.
action: You examine Peters
response: Peters is a weaselly little shit in a lab coat. Every time he sees you with bad beef up here, he gives you a filthy look, as if you contaminated it yourself. (If only he knew.)
action: You show Chuck to Peters
response: Peters glowers at you. "Get back to work, Courier."
action: Go downward
response: Peters stops you. "No unauthorized personnel!"
action: You kill Peters
response: Oh, you'd love to, but it would probably spoil the rest of your plans for the day.
action: You feed Chuck to Peters
response: Peters doesn't seem interested.
By now, you've broken out in a cold sweat, and you feel feverish.
With every breath, your lungs THROB.
action: You examine Chuck
response: It's a pile of bad beef. Nice and toxic, this, and probably rife with botulism. No Beef Flu, though. You'd be able to smell it. Your veins THROB at the thought.

Upon close inspection, you realize this is bad beef -- a perfect excuse to head up to the Disposatorium.
action: You go upwards
response: While they call this the decontamination room, nothing actually gets done to decontaminate anything. Basically, there's a locked door between here and the Breeding Room, and they only give the key to people who won't contaminate the studs. Apparently, this satisfies the ISO requirements. Stairs lead down and the Breeding Room door is to the west.
action: You examine the door
response: It's a pretty solid door.
action: You unlock door
response: What do you want to unlock the breeding room door with?
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
some bad ground chuck
a syringe
Yours muscles ache with every step you take. The Beef Flu has you in its clutches. (Make that THROB, ok? Your muscles THROB. It sounds more DRAMATIC.)
action: Go downward
response: Mr. McBeefy's Beef Imporium

Like most days, the place is full of kids. There are two field-trips here, at the moment.
action: Look around
response: The MBI supply room is just a little pantry, well-stocked with beef and beef accessories. MBI is back to the west.
action: Go west
response: Mr. McBeefy's Beef Imporium
The Beef Imporium -- MBI, to you wage slaves -- stands at the very base of the Tower of Beef. The vast glass ceiling lets you look up into the Tower and see the vast machinery of Mr. McBeefy's Vertical Beef Processing Facility at work. Cows and carcasses swing by at all elevations, ready to be processed from happy heifers into happy meals. Now and then an organ or spurt of blood falls onto the glass ceiling, but it's always quickly cleaned up by one of the janitors. Those lucky bastards get off with the easy work.

The supply room lies to the east, and a sliding door leads out.

Like most days, the place is full of kids. There are two field-trips here, at the moment.
action: Go upwards
response: Huge glass walkways lead east and west. Carts full of beef and bones are everywhere, blocking the way. Stairwells lead up and down.

A sign hangs on the wall here.
action: Go east
response: Rows and rows of carts run through the Disposatorium, hauling bad beef to be processed into feed. Other couriers rush in and out, as if their lives depended on it. The manager's office is upstairs; the rumor is that he loves the smell of bad beef.

Couriers rush in and out.
The THROBBING has beTHROBcome unTHROBbearTHROBable. You won't THROB be able to THROB take it much loTHOBnger.
action: Go upwards
response: This small office serves as a refuge for Branch Manager Fat. There's a desk and some computers and paperwork. It's all quite uninteresting.
action: You drop Chuck
response: Dropped.
action: You look under the desk
response: That's not something you need to refer to in the course of this game.

That's not something you need to refer to in the course of this game.
action: Go downward
response: Rows and rows of carts run through the Disposatorium, hauling bad beef to be processed into feed. Other couriers rush in and out, as if their lives depended on it. The manager's office is upstairs; the rumor is that he loves the smell of bad beef.

Couriers rush in and out.
action: Y.
response: It's taken you years to work your way up from Ketchup Packet Sorter Third Class to your current post: Bad Beef Courier. It's been hard work, and it's taken its toll on you, but it's all been worth it.
With your new clearance, you can finally bring down Mr. McBeefy's vast animal-exploiting empire and set things right.

They said that the Beef Flu was an urban legend, but it's been eating away at you for twenty years. You must hurry: your can tell you haven't much time left.

FREEDOM FOR OUR BOVINE BRETHREN!

MEAT IS MURDER!

Chicks really dig how "sensitive" your activism makes you seem.

Copyright (C) 2003, Ricardo SIGNES
Jacket Speed-IF 2
Please consult REVIEWS and FEELIES

Mr. McBeefy's Beef Imporium
The Beef Imporium -- MBI, to you wage slaves -- stands at the very base of the Tower of Beef. The vast glass ceiling lets you look up into the Tower and see the vast machinery of Mr. McBeefy's Vertical Beef Processing Facility at work. Cows and carcasses swing by at all elevations, ready to be processed from happy heifers into happy meals. Now and then an organ or spurt of blood falls onto the glass ceiling, but it's always quickly cleaned up by one of the janitors. Those lucky bastards get off with the easy work.

The supply room lies to the east, and a sliding door leads out.

Like most days, the place is full of kids. There are two field-trips here, at the moment.
action: You go east
response: The MBI supply room is just a little pantry, well-stocked with beef and beef accessories. MBI is back to the west.

Some ground chuck sits on a sheaf of paper on a counter.
action: You get Chuck
response: Taken.
action: You examine Chuck
response: It's a pile of ground chuck laid out on a table, probably for use in McBeefy Beef Tacobeef Mexiburgers (with extra Spic Sauce and Lardonnaise).

Upon close inspection, you realize this is bad beef -- a perfect excuse to head up to the Disposatorium.
action: You eat Chuck
response: That's plainly inedible.
action: You look at the syringe
response: It's a syringe of your blood. It should be just swarming with the Beef Flu. Hopefully, you can get close enough to Big Buck to put it to use.
You feel your heart THROBBING in your chest. You're definitely getting sicker.
action: You go to the west
response: Mr. McBeefy's Beef Imporium

Like most days, the place is full of kids. There are two field-trips here, at the moment.
action: You throw Chuck at the grinder
response: Peters cries out in horror as you throw the bad chuck into the grinder and rushes over to the edge of the catwalk, peering into the grinder. You heave the bad beef into the grinder, and it happily mixes in with the rest, pouring down into production. That should do nicely.
action: Go downward
response: The beef comes down through the meatgrinder, a flight above you, and falls onto the conveyer belt in front of you. It's been stopped for a while, so there's quite a pile built up. The steel stairway leads back up to the grinder's top.
action: Search pile
response: You run your hands through the pile of meat, oblivious to the waves of nausea running through you. You're rewarded with a shiny (well, not really) key, engraved with an unfamiliar, phallic icon.
action: You examine the key
response: The key is pretty normal looking, except for the phallus carved into its head. Presumably that indicates its use.
action: Go upward
response: A sign hangs on the wall here.
You press your hand to your head, and you can feel the vein in your forehead THROBBING as you clench your teeth.

While they call this the decontamination room, nothing actually gets done to decontaminate anything. Basically, there's a locked door between here and the Breeding Room, and they only give the key to people who won't contaminate the studs. Apparently, this satisfies the ISO requirements. Stairs lead down and the Breeding Room door is to the west.
action: You unlock the door with the key
response: You unlock the breeding room door.
action: You open the door
response: You open the breeding room door.
action: Go west
response: The Breeding Room is the cleanest room you've seen in the Tower. It's a large, dome-shaped room with a dirt and grass floor. One wall is an exterior wall, and is made of one-way glass. You can see the skyline outside, as well as the sun.

You can see a Big Buck here.
action: You inject the Buck with the syringe
response: You casually walk over and inject the Beef Flu into Big Buck. He doesn't seem to notice, and just grunts a bit. You laugh to yourself as you realize how easy it's been. Now, you can go home and die in the knowledge that you've saved the world.
action: Go outside
response: You step out into the warm, sunshiny day. Here and there, co-workers sit and eat packed lunches, discussing their days. Children frolic and birds sing. What a perfect day!

You lean back against The Tower and contemplate your success, imagining the future of the world:

Fifty or seventy-five years from now, billions are dead from the mutated Beef Flu. Death from Super McBeefy is slow, throbbing, and painful -- as you well know -- and society has fallen apart trying merely to bury the dead and sustain the living. With the economy in shambles and the majority of the fabric of society in tatters, the human race is reduced to foraging: foraging for nuts and berries, and not beef.

You are a hero!