IF Progressive One
by Sarah Morayati (2009)

This chaotic game was written by six authors sequentially, each author only adding to the game as written so far. It all begins with you as a kindergarten teacher in your classroom after all the kids have gone home. You're about to clean up their horrific mess when a gaudy balloon floats in through the window and stops to hover right in front of your face.

action: %
response: Four p.m. and they're all gone, every last one of them. Little brats made of spittle and claws. Paint-spilling, dirt-tracking, crayon-smearing babies in kindergarteners' clothing. The day you took your job was the day you lost your mind.

Not that you have other prospects, though. This is what you've got and it isn't all that safe. And besides, it gets better now. Now you make order from chaos. Now you spin gold from straw. You're going to wipe every last bit of color and clutter off the face of this room and get out by five-thirty sharp.

Is there a national conspiracy to make young eyes pop out by age five from overstimulation? Must be. Every last inch of wall space here, save for the window, is plastered with needless decor: nature caricatures, inspirational glurge, posters with cartoon letters and plus signs. The floor's no better; the brats didn't pick up when Miss Lauren told them to pick up and now it's cluttered with gaudy plastic. The books are tossed into the carpet square pile and someone's dripped tempera paint onto every table. You could go on.
action: About yourself
response: What's there to see? Short hair that the kids nevertheless keep fussing with, sensible clothes on a stocky frame. Arms, legs, hands, feet. Nothing to set you apart.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying nothing.

You look up and then you see it. There's a balloon, floating through the window and stopping right in front of your face - no, not stopping exactly. Stopping would be too tidy. It's hovering. Balloons shouldn't do that. They should stay put on strings. You're sure this
has to be some kind of fire hazard.
action: You look at the balloon
response: When did America decide balloon inflation, of all things, was too hard for them? It's got too much air and is liable to pop any minute. All the better to accentuate the sub-tie-dye coloring catastrophe. Oranges clashing with purples, reds superimposed on top of greens and blues turning them into bright but somehow murky muddle. You thought only Mylar could support this many godawful neons, but apparently you were wrong.
action: You take the plastic
response: You pick up a toy and stack it in the bin, but by the time you get back to the pile there just seem to be more. What fool decided to make toys reproduce?
action: You take the book
response: You dig through the pile a bit, but it just collapses in on itself. Ugh.
action: Clean paint
response: It's no use; the tables just become a light apricot.
action: Look around
response: Every last inch of wall space here, save for the window, is plastered with needless decor: nature caricatures, inspirational glurge, posters with cartoon letters and plus signs. The floor's no better; the brats didn't pick up when Miss Lauren told them to pick up and now it's cluttered with gaudy plastic. The books are tossed into the carpet square pile and someone's dripped tempera paint onto every table. And there's more, it seems, every second. Leaves and dirt by the doorway. Shredded paper that's not in the waste bin.

A balloon hovers around your face, insect-like.
action: You take the balloon
response: "Don't touch that!" someone almost shrieks. A kid? No, too old. A teacher? Too unfamiliar. You have no idea who this is.
action: Continue
response: Screw the voice. This is your classroom right now. You pick up the balloon, grimacing a bit at the noisy latex. It shifts in your arms worse than any of the kids ever did. Maybe the voice was right, you mutter, watching the balloon's skin go fainter.

"Isn't it wonderful? Everything is better with balloons. Now listen to me. Today we're going to have some fun!" You're've never heard anyone talk this loudly, not even to kids. It's unnerving. "Let's play a game. Let's go play outside! Just walk right on out of there. To the south."
action: You go to the south
response: Really, this was just a glorified hallway. You used to like places like this. Tiles and cinderblocks. No-nonsense, nothing gaudy. They do just what they promise: take you from room to room without asserting themselves. But something's gone terrible wrong. The whole floor is lousy with confetti, thick as snow and almost painful to look at.

"Looks a lot better now, doesn't it?" shouts the voice. You've never heard such a loud question. "Now get out. Fast." You notice the door to the east is ajar.
action: You examine the confetti
response: Every kind you could possibly imagine and then some you couldn't: cut construction paper, punched plastic, tinsel hearts and music notes, squiggles, dots, like an explosion in a crayon factory.
action: You search it
response: You sift through the confetti, but find nothing but more of it. What were you hoping for? Gold?
action: Yes
response: That was a rhetorical question.
action: You go to the east
response: The students aren't usually allowed back here. You can go north, south, or east.
action: Go north
response: You've never been to this area before. A brown door is east, and south is behind the school (technically south is also outside the school, but we have to tell them apart somehow).

An angry crow darts around.
action: You examine the crow
response: The crow obviously has a bad attitude. It caws noisily at you.
action: You open it
response: (first unlocking the brown door)
You lack a key that fits the brown door.
action: You go to the south
response: The students aren't usually allowed back here. You can go north, south, or east.

Floating into the area is a pink balloon.
action: You take the balloon
response: A waft of air blows the pink balloon out of your reach.
action: You go to the south
response: It is peaceful under the tree. You can go north to behind the school.

A lush tree grows, reaching into the sky.
action: You examine tree
response: You see nothing special about the lush tree.

Floating into the area is a pink balloon.
action: Go upwards
response: You cling precariously up here among the green leaves, and can get to the roof to the west.
action: Examine leaves
response: You find a paper page among the leaves.
action: You take the page
response: You already have that.
action: You read it
response: Not much to read there.
action: You look at it
response: You shudder at the sight of triangles and equations -- MATH!
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying:
a paper page
action: Go west
response: A quiet albeit windy retreat.

A metal machine, taller than you are, is here with a math book wedged underneath it.
action: You look at the machine
response: It is too tall for you to reach its top.
action: You look at the book
response: Propping up a machine is as good a use for math as any, in your opinion. It seems to have a page missing.
action: You put the page in the book
response: You wedge all the pages back into the book. The metal machine shifts only slightly, but something falls off the top!
action: Look around
response: A quiet albeit windy retreat.

A metal machine, taller than you are, is here with a math book wedged underneath it.

You can also see a wooden slingshot here.
action: You take the slingshot
response: Taken.
action: You look at it
response: It must have been seized from a grubby little terrorist wannabe.
action: You go to the east
response: You cling precariously up here among the green leaves, and can get to the roof to the west.
action: Go north
response: The students aren't usually allowed back here. You can go north, south, or east.

A pink balloon floats here.

The pink balloon floats away.
action: You go east
response: You try to keep your shoes as clean as possible here. The only way is back west.

A pink balloon floats here.

A shallow hole has been dug by some small archaeologist.
action: You examine hole
response: You retrieve two small marbles from it.
action: You go to the west
response: The students aren't usually allowed back here. You can go north, south, or east.

Floating into the area is a pink balloon.
action: You put the marble in the slingshot
response: Hmm, I take it you want to shoot something with this device?
action: You shoot the balloon with slingshot
response: You take careful aim at the pink balloon and ... THWACK!! A direct hit pops the balloon and something falls out.
action: You look around
response: The students aren't usually allowed back here. You can go north, south, or east.

You can see a toilet roll here.
action: You take the roll
response: Taken.
action: You look at the roll
response: Used to clean things, especially the backside.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a toilet roll
a small marble
a wooden slingshot
action: Go north
response: You've never been to this area before. A brown door is east, and south is behind the school (technically south is also outside the school, but we have to tell them apart somehow).

An angry crow darts around.
action: You shoot the crow with the slingshot
response: You take careful aim at the angry crow and ... MISS!!

It looks ticked-off now, and starts circling the area!
action: Author
response: Scene 2, "Terrorist Wannabe", was written by Rick Dague.
action: Go south
response: The students aren't usually allowed back here. You can go north, south, or east.

The crow is still flying around excitedly!
action: Go south
response: It is peaceful under the tree. You can go north to behind the school.

A lush tree grows, reaching into the sky.

You can see the crow lining up for a run at you! Watch out!
action: You go upwards
response: You cling precariously up here among the green leaves, and can get to the roof to the west.

The angry crow makes its move!

The bird dives at your head and dropping a "bomb" -- DIRECT HIT!!
action: You examine the bomb
response: You see nothing special about the green mess.

Something stinks!
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying:
a green mess
a toilet roll
a wooden slingshot

Something stinks!
action: You drop the mess
response: You tear some paper off of the toilet roll and the mess cleans right up. Plus you find something in the goo!
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying:
a bronze key
a toilet roll
a wooden slingshot
action: You go north
response: You've never been to this area before. A brown door is east, and south is behind the school (technically south is also outside the school, but we have to tell them apart somehow).
action: You unlock the door with the key
response: You unlock the brown door.
action: Go east
response: (first opening the brown door)

The light is dim, and exits are west and east.
action: Author
response: Scene 3, "Job Fair", was written by Dan Shiovitz.
action: Go east
response: You take a few steps before the floor collapses.
It seems like a good idea to scream, so you do so.
action: You look at the pile
response: It's a big pile of .. stuff. That rustles. Good thing you don't have any cattle.
action: Search pile
response: It's too dark to do anything with the pile, really.
action: Go north
response: You struggle to your feet, strewing rustly stuff everywhere. Somewhere in the process of doing so you bump against a light switch or something, and things become brighter.

This room is mostly occupied by a large pile of shredded paper. There aren't any obvious exits, but the north wall is entirely occupied by the backside of a large machine.
action: You examine the machine
response: The machine takes up the entire north wall. Given the circumstances and the large label it is easy to identify this as an enormous shredder. There is a small hatch near floor level, and a large funnely sort of thing up top.

You hear a noise from above your head, and look up just in time to see a small metal object falling from the sky. It bounces painfully off your head and disappears into the pile of shredded paper.
action: Search pile
response: You'd think this would be like trying to find a, uh, small metal thing in a large pile of other stuff, but in fact it's not that bad, since this particular bit of metal talks. "--Come on come on I'm right over here this is totally obv--" it is saying as you pick it up. "Finally! It's about time you found me!"
"Uh, what?" you say.
"It's me! Roz!" And you finally realize it's the same voice as earlier. "You popped my balloon! It took me forever to get down here!"
action: You look at Roz
response: It's a pyramid-shaped piece of metal which, surprisingly, can talk. For instance, right now it says "Quit starin' at me and get on with things!"
action: You examine the hatch
response: The hatch is labelled "MAINTENANCE". It's closed.
action: You open it
response: You open the hatch.
action: You enter it
response: You squeeze your way through the hatch and eventually come out the other side.

This is a big open area. Hundreds of beings of all heights, colors, eyestalkitude and tentaclosity are wandering around, visiting little booths, and waving bits of paper, but mostly they're standing in line.

The room (and the crowd) stretches out in all directions except south, where the whole wall is taken up by the giant shredder.
action: You examine the crowd
response: Some have fur, some have claws, some have tails, some have ears, some have green skin, some have blue skin. But judging by the papers they're holding, what they all have is a determination to get a job.

"What does he mean, overqualified?" says a furred lizard-thing, angrily, to its scaled bear-thing companion. "I have a mere sixteen years of experience!"
action: Go west
response: You can't go that way.

A nearby vendor suddenly leaps out of her booth. "I hate this job!" she shouts. "I'm finding a new one!" She disappears into the crowd, leaving the empty booth abandoned behind her. You look over at it, curiously.
action: Examine booth
response: This display booth is empty, at least of people. A colorful sign on the booth says "THE AMAZING UNSHRED-O-MATIC" and sitting on the booth is what you presume to be the unshred-o-matic in question.
action: You examine unshred
response: It seems to be composed mainly of a bin, some unblades, and a button.

"No, no, that won't do at all," says an interviewer at one of the booths to a gelatinous blob. "I'm afraid chuffling certification is an absolute requirement for any job here." The blob jiggles unhappily and oozes away. The interviewer shrugs and shoves the blob's resume into a nearby tube, where it's immediately sucked out of sight.
action: You go south
response: You squeeze your way through the hatch and eventually come out the other side.

This room is mostly occupied by a large pile of shredded paper. There aren't any obvious exits, but the north wall is entirely occupied by the backside of a large machine.
action: You take the paper
response: You pick up all the larger pieces you can find. There are four.
action: You go north
response: You squeeze your way through the hatch and eventually come out the other side.

This is a big open area. Hundreds of beings of all heights, colors, eyestalkitude and tentaclosity are wandering around, visiting little booths, and waving bits of paper, but mostly they're standing in line.

The room (and the crowd) stretches out in all directions except south, where the whole wall is taken up by the giant shredder. Nearby you notice a small, unstaffed booth.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a khaki-colored resume piece
an ecru-colored resume piece
a beige-colored resume piece
a cream-colored resume piece
a Roz pyramid
a bronze key
a toilet roll
a wooden slingshot

A mime uses its tentacles to give an impromptu demonstration of being trapped in an invisible rocket ship and walking against a tractor beam. Its interviewer is unimpressed, however, and consigns the mime's resume to a shredder tube.
action: You examine the khaki
response: This fragment of a resume is printed on khaki-colored paper. Glancing over it, you make out a few phrases that seem relevant: "Certifications: Pommelation (Basic and Advanced), Chuffling, Black-Belt Lean Six Sigma", "Blood type: O"
action: You examine the ecru
response: This fragment of a resume is printed on ecru-colored paper. Glancing over it, you make out a few phrases that seem relevant: "Years of experience: 1", "Ever since I was a mere pod, my ambition to be a Waffgasketeer has been ..", "Hobbies: Trandozian bass, flapjacks"

"Only four years?" a green chimpanzee says to a blue chimpanzee. "They'll never take anyone with that little."
action: You look at the beige
response: This fragment of a resume is printed on beige-colored paper. Glancing over it, you make out a few phrases that seem relevant: "It is my fondest hope that as a Jark Inverter I will ..", "Education: Yalneeple College of Higher Kurfting, "D4", "With my fifteen years of experience .."
action: You look at the cream
response: This fragment of a resume is printed on cream-colored paper. Glancing over it, you make out a few phrases that seem relevant: "0 (approximate)", "Scent glands: removed (references available on request)", "Languages known: none."

Two aliens get into an argument over who was next in line. The debate is resolved when the smaller one unhinges its jaw surprisingly far and eats the other.
action: You put the beige in unshred
response: You put the beige-colored resume piece into the unshred-o-matic.
action: You look at unshred
response: It seems to be composed mainly of a bin, some unblades, and a button. In the unshredder you see beige-colored resume piece.

An armadillo-like alien has a conversation with a vendor in a nearby booth about their new line of metallic post-it notes.
action: You put the cream in unshred
response: You put the cream-colored resume piece into the unshred-o-matic.
action: You take the tan
response: You already have that.
action: You examine the tan
response: The resume lists a number of hobbies and qualifications you don't really understand, but you do manage to make out a claim of 15 years of experience and a request for a position as a Jark Inverter.

Two aliens get into an argument over who was next in line. The debate is resolved when the smaller one unhinges its jaw surprisingly far and eats the other.
action: You get in the line
response: You get into the line, and wait. And wait, and wait. Eventually you reach the front, where you are scrutinized by a sort of mutant crab-zebra thing. "GIVE ME THAT RESUME!" it roars, snatching it from you. Then it produces a pair of surprisingly small spectacles and settles them on its eyestalks as it reads over your resume. "Good .. good .. nice genetic structure .. excellent center of mass .." Suddenly it stops and looks up at you. "YOU DON'T HAVE THE CERTIFICATION FOR THIS JOB". With one enormous claw, it shoves your resume into a nearby tube which, you fear, leads directly to the shredder. "GET OUT OF HERE!" To the accompaniment of menacing pincer snaps and glares from the other interviewees, you slink out of the line.
action: You go south
response: You squeeze your way through the hatch and eventually come out the other side.

This room is mostly occupied by a large pile of shredded paper. There aren't any obvious exits, but the north wall is entirely occupied by the backside of a large machine.
action: You take the paper
response: You pick up all the larger pieces you can find. There are four.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a khaki-colored resume piece
an ecru-colored resume piece
a beige-colored resume piece
a cream-colored resume piece
a Roz pyramid
a bronze key
a toilet roll
a wooden slingshot
action: You go north
response: You squeeze your way through the hatch and eventually come out the other side.

This is a big open area. Hundreds of beings of all heights, colors, eyestalkitude and tentaclosity are wandering around, visiting little booths, and waving bits of paper, but mostly they're standing in line.

The room (and the crowd) stretches out in all directions except south, where the whole wall is taken up by the giant shredder. Nearby you notice a small, unstaffed booth.

"What does he mean, overqualified?" says a furred lizard-thing, angrily, to its scaled bear-thing companion. "I have a mere sixteen years of experience!"
action: You examine the khaki
response: This fragment of a resume is printed on khaki-colored paper. Glancing over it, you make out a few phrases that seem relevant: "Certifications: Pommelation (Basic and Advanced), Chuffling, Black-Belt Lean Six Sigma", "Blood type: O"
action: You examine beige
response: This fragment of a resume is printed on beige-colored paper. Glancing over it, you make out a few phrases that seem relevant: "It is my fondest hope that as a Jark Inverter I will ..", "Education: Yalneeple College of Higher Kurfting, "D4", "With my fifteen years of experience .."

"No, no, that won't do at all," says an interviewer at one of the booths to a gelatinous blob. "I'm afraid chuffling certification is an absolute requirement for any job here." The blob jiggles unhappily and oozes away. The interviewer shrugs and shoves the blob's resume into a nearby tube, where it's immediately sucked out of sight.
action: You examine the cream
response: This fragment of a resume is printed on cream-colored paper. Glancing over it, you make out a few phrases that seem relevant: "0 (approximate)", "Scent glands: removed (references available on request)", "Languages known: none."
action: You put the khaki in unshred
response: You put the khaki-colored resume piece into the unshred-o-matic.

A mime uses its tentacles to give an impromptu demonstration of being trapped in an invisible rocket ship and walking against a tractor beam. Its interviewer is unimpressed, however, and consigns the mime's resume to a shredder tube.
action: You put the cream in unshred
response: You put the cream-colored resume piece into the unshred-o-matic.
action: You get in line
response: You get into the line, and wait. And wait, and wait. Eventually you reach the front, where you are scrutinized by a sort of mutant crab-zebra thing. "GIVE ME THAT RESUME!" it roars, snatching it from you. Then it produces a pair of surprisingly small spectacles and settles them on its eyestalks as it reads over your resume. "Good .. good .. nice genetic structure .. excellent center of mass .." Suddenly it stops and looks up at you. "YOU'RE TOO INEXPERIENCED!". With one enormous claw, it shoves your resume into a nearby tube which, you fear, leads directly to the shredder. "GET OUT OF HERE!" To the accompaniment of menacing pincer snaps and glares from the other interviewees, you slink out of the line.

An armadillo-like alien has a conversation with a vendor in a nearby booth about their new line of metallic post-it notes.
action: You look at the ecru
response: This fragment of a resume is printed on ecru-colored paper. Glancing over it, you make out a few phrases that seem relevant: "Years of experience: 1", "Ever since I was a mere pod, my ambition to be a Waffgasketeer has been ..", "Hobbies: Trandozian bass, flapjacks"
action: O khaki
response: You put the khaki-colored resume piece into the unshred-o-matic.

"Only four years?" a green chimpanzee says to a blue chimpanzee. "They'll never take anyone with that little."
action: You put the beige in unshred
response: You put the beige-colored resume piece into the unshred-o-matic.

Two aliens get into an argument over who was next in line. The debate is resolved when the smaller one unhinges its jaw surprisingly far and eats the other.
action: You look at the tan
response: The resume lists a number of hobbies and qualifications you don't really understand, but you do manage to make out a claim of 15 years of experience, a request for a position as a Jark Inverter, and multiple certifications.

"What does he mean, overqualified?" says a furred lizard-thing, angrily, to its scaled bear-thing companion. "I have a mere sixteen years of experience!"
action: You get in the line
response: You get into the line, and wait. And wait, and wait. Eventually you reach the front, where you are scrutinized by a sort of mutant crab-zebra thing. "GIVE ME THAT RESUME!" it roars, snatching it from you. Then it produces a pair of surprisingly small spectacles and settles them on its eyestalks as it reads over your resume. "Good .. good .. nice genetic structure .. excellent center of mass .." Suddenly it stops and looks up at you. "YOU'LL DO." Before you can react, it has grabbed you and shoved you through the door behind it. "HR WILL BE IN TOUCH" is the last thing you hear as the door closes again.

Metal Box Room.

"Thank goodness I'm here!," Roz says.
action: You look around
response: Metal Box Room.

"Yessir, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't have any way of getting out," Roz says.
action: Author
response: Scene 4, "Telepyramids", was written by Carl Muckenhoupt.
action: You ask Roz about the Room
response: "Sorry, what? I was thinking about what I'm going to do for my next game."

"If you want help getting out of here, just ask," Roz says.
action: You ask Roz about the help
response: "Stop talking and do something interesting!"

"Ask me, that is," Roz says. "If you weren't sure."
action: You ask Roz about getting out of here
response: "That's boring."

"And if you wanted to know, say, what subject to ask me about," Roz says. "I'd suggest, oh, Roz."
action: You ask Roz about Roz
response: "I'm Roz! I'm a control unit! I can talk to Sally and Leon and all the other units and they have to do what I say."

"Ok, well, I don't want to be pushy," says Roz. "Nothing worse than a pushy talking pyramid."
action: You ask Roz about Sally
response: "Sally's a teleportation unit. If you want to go visit her, just say her name and I'll tell her to bring us in."

"Yep, gonna shut up now. Not gonna say a thing more unless you ask."
action: You ask Roz about Leon
response: "Leon's a supply unit. He helps me all the time by giving me things for playing games with, like confetti and poison gas and marbles and explosives and balloons and razor blades."
action: Sally
response: The Roz pyramid brightly says "Roger that!"
You have a moment of vertigo, and suddenly you're elsewhere.

This is a cramped hollow inside some kind of mechanism. Cogwheels poke your ribs as the smell of machine oil assaults your nostrils. A rusty hatch is latched shut.

And yet, someone must be spending a lot of time in here, because there's a small cot resting on a couple of planks.

On the small cot are a Sally pyramid and a dream diary.
action: You read the diary
response: Taken.

"I've been having really weird dreams since I started sleeping in the machine on top of the old abandoned school, so I thought I should try to write them down and figure out what they mean. I'll start with the dream I had las night: I was in some kind of lab or military complex or something in a dystopian future, and they were doing something with corn. The corn was very sinister, very menacing. I think it represented death. In the end I escaped the whole thing in a rocketship, which is a blatant phallic symbol. So I guess that's about sex as a bid for immortality or something? I dunno, my subconscious has weird ideas sometimes."
action: You read the diary
response: "Day 2. Last night's dream was one of those shifting ones than never really settles on a theme. At first I was a spy or something, and I was trying to escape from enemies in a hotel which was also a lab which was also a sultan's palace, or something like that. And I escaped them by rail through some kind of fantasy kingdom accompanied by a weasel. I'm having trouble finding symbols here. I guess the sense of running away from things was strong, but only in the beginning."
action: You read the diary
response: "Day 3. I was back in my old house, the one from before I moved to the machine, but it was empty, and the world was ruled by insectoid aliens, but I just accepted that as good, because they had mind-control powers or something. I escaped by riding a missile (another blatant phallic symbol), and wound up on the moon, in another of those strange laboratories which seem to be the most common feature of my dreams these days. Maybe this is has something to do with those four days I can't remember? I was guided some of the time by a disembodied voice, which is traditionally supposed to be a manifestation of the divine or something. I hope I don't start hearing it in real life."
action: You read the diary
response: "Day 4. I was in the desert, which shifted between being a post-apocalyptic wasteland and the outskirts of Las Vegas and I think Egypt at one point. I was looking for a treasure, which turned out to be a goddess, and a blatantly erotic one too. Putting her at the end of a search in the desert is probably a sorry commentary on my sex life. The only other thing I remember was a disgusting dog who kept showing up and hindered me at every turn. I think he represented my father."
action: You read the diary
response: "Day 5. I don't remember a lot about this dream, but I have a feeling it was more coherent than the others. I was back in the old school, cleaning up after the children, and there was a disembodied voice that wanted me to stop working there. But then the voice turned out to be coming from a small metal pyramid, just like the one I use as a pillow. There were lots of pyramids like that, and they had names like Sally and Jojo. That's all I remember."
action: You read the diary
response: The rest of the pages are blank.
action: You ask Roz about Jojo
response: "Jojo, she left us. Wanted a solitary life, on one of those empty backwater planets. Guess you could visit her, if you need a vacation."
action: Jojo
response: The Roz pyramid brightly says "Teleport activating now!"
You have a moment of vertigo, and suddenly you're elsewhere.

This hut, wherever it may be, is made of thick glass, distorting the outside to something like a watercolor painting. A foam rubber mattress and a wardrobe seem to be the only bits of furniture. The doorway outside is south.

In the middle of the hut sits an old-fashioned oven. It is connected by loose wires, through a hole in the ceiling, to some sort of dish on top of the hut.

In a corner sits a robot. It looks like an old TV-set with metal tentacles attached. Inside, through a glass window, you can see one of the pyramids.
It holds a scrap of green, continous paper in one of the tentacles.

You can also see a bowl (empty) here.
action: You examine Jojo
response: (the robot)
You see nothing special about the robot.
action: Author
response: Scene 5, "Jojo gets a cookie", was written by Taleslinger.
action: You examine the bowl
response: A small bowl, perhaps for mixing dough in it?
action: You examine the oven
response: It is old, spotted with rust, but surprisingly clean. It has a single button. In it you see nothing.
action: You ask Jojo about cookie
response: (the robot about that)
The robot seems to ignore you purposefully.
action: You ask Roz about the oven
response: "Sorry, what? I was thinking about what I'm going to do for my next game."
action: You ask Roz about the next game
response: "I like to play! It's not what I was designed for, but I have a lot of free time. My favorite game is the one where you find someone who's unhappy and you threaten their life in a way that forces them to choose between changing what they're unhappy about or dying, and you see which they choose. It's great because either way their unhappiness is over."
action: You look around
response: This hut, wherever it may be, is made of thick glass, distorting the outside to something like a watercolor painting. A foam rubber mattress and a wardrobe seem to be the only bits of furniture. The doorway outside is south.

In the middle of the hut sits an old-fashioned oven. It is connected by loose wires, through a hole in the ceiling, to some sort of dish on top of the hut.

In a corner sits a robot. It looks like an old TV-set with metal tentacles attached. Inside, through a glass window, you can see one of the pyramids.
It holds a scrap of green, continous paper in one of the tentacles.

You can also see a bowl (empty) here.
action: You examine the wires
response: These loose wires, judging by their color, seem to stem from all kind of sources, varying in thickness and level of insulation.
action: You examine the wardrobe
response: It's a blue, wooden wardrobe. It looks too small to store all of the stuff one may need, but maybe it's bigger on the inside.
action: You open it
response: It's locked.
action: You ask Jojo for the paper
response: (the robot for the scrap)
The robot seems to ignore you purposefully.
action: You look at mattress
response: It's a comfy looking mattress."
action: Sleep
response: You're hardly tired, and besides, bedtime is ten p.m. sharp. No earlier, no later. Your biological clock is a delicate thing.
action: You get the paper
response: You carefully remove the paper from the claw. The robot doesn't seem to mind.
action: You take the mattress
response: That's hardly portable.
action: You examine paper
response: I WANT COOKIE - CAN GIVE YOU SOMETHING- RECIPE - CUKROVINCA FLOUR - AN EGG - A JARK-
"Wow" says Roz, "she off the hook."
action: You ask Roz about the egg
response: "That's boring."
action: You ask Roz about the flour
response: "Sorry, what? I was thinking about what I'm going to do for my next game."
action: You ask Roz about Leon
response: "Leon's a supply unit. He helps me all the time by giving me things for playing games with, like confetti and poison gas and marbles and explosives and balloons and razor blades."
action: Sally
response: The Roz pyramid brightly says "Aye-aye!"
You have a moment of vertigo, and suddenly you're elsewhere.

This is a cramped hollow inside some kind of mechanism. Cogwheels poke your ribs as the smell of machine oil assaults your nostrils. A rusty hatch is latched shut.

And yet, someone must be spending a lot of time in here, because there's a small cot resting on a couple of planks.

On the small cot is a Sally pyramid.
action: You ask Sally about Leon
response: You can only do that to something animate.
action: You open hatch
response: You open the rusty hatch.
action: Leave
response: A quiet albeit windy retreat.

A metal machine, taller than you are, is here with a math book wedged underneath it.
action: You enter hatch
response: This is a cramped hollow inside some kind of mechanism. Cogwheels poke your ribs as the smell of machine oil assaults your nostrils. A rusty hatch leads out into the fresh air.

And yet, someone must be spending a lot of time in here, because there's a small cot resting on a couple of planks.

On the small cot is a Sally pyramid.
action: You take Sally
response: Taken.
action: Jojo
response: The Roz pyramid brightly says "Roger that!"
You have a moment of vertigo, and suddenly you're elsewhere.

This hut, wherever it may be, is made of thick glass, distorting the outside to something like a watercolor painting. A foam rubber mattress and a wardrobe seem to be the only bits of furniture. The doorway outside is south.

In the middle of the hut sits an old-fashioned oven. It is connected by loose wires, through a hole in the ceiling, to some sort of dish on top of the hut.

In a corner sits a robot. It looks like an old TV-set with metal tentacles attached. Inside, through a glass window, you can see one of the pyramids.
action: You put Sally on the cot
response: You put the Sally pyramid on the small cot.
action: Leave
response: A quiet albeit windy retreat.

A metal machine, taller than you are, is here with a math book wedged underneath it.
action: You go to the east
response: You cling precariously up here among the green leaves, and can get to the roof to the west.
action: You go east
response: You try to keep your shoes as clean as possible here. The only way is back west.

A shallow hole has been dug by some small archaeologist.
action: Go east
response: The light is dim, and exits are west and east.
action: You go to the east
response: Well, the floor to the east is basically an open pit now, but you know the fall is survivable. So after a brief hesitation, you fling yourself in.

This room is mostly occupied by a large pile of shredded paper. There aren't any obvious exits, but the north wall is entirely occupied by the backside of a large machine.
action: You look at paper
response: (the scrap)
I WANT COOKIE - CAN GIVE YOU SOMETHING- RECIPE - CUKROVINCA FLOUR - AN EGG - A JARK-
"Wow" says Roz, "she off the hook."
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying:
a bowl
a scrap
a dream diary
a Roz pyramid
a bronze key
a toilet roll
a wooden slingshot
action: You go north
response: You squeeze your way through the hatch and eventually come out the other side.

This is a big open area. Hundreds of beings of all heights, colors, eyestalkitude and tentaclosity are wandering around, visiting little booths, and waving bits of paper, but mostly they're standing in line.

The room (and the crowd) stretches out in all directions except south, where the whole wall is taken up by the giant shredder. Nearby you notice a small, unstaffed booth.
action: You put the diary in unshred
response: You put the dream diary into the unshred-o-matic.

"No, no, that won't do at all," says an interviewer at one of the booths to a gelatinous blob. "I'm afraid chuffling certification is an absolute requirement for any job here." The blob jiggles unhappily and oozes away. The interviewer shrugs and shoves the blob's resume into a nearby tube, where it's immediately sucked out of sight.
action: You take the diary
response: Taken.

An armadillo-like alien has a conversation with a vendor in a nearby booth about their new line of metallic post-it notes.
action: You put the paper in unshred
response: You put the scrap into the unshred-o-matic.
action: You go to the south
response: You step outside and find yourself under a clear, disturbingly puple sky, where yellow lightning flashes silently in dark, grey clouds. The air is humid and humming with life. Almost invisible, transparent insects swirl round your head, and in the distance, some unseen birds chirp and flutter.The hut and it's surroundings seem to be inside some sort of transparent energy dome.

Short, green grass extends to the foot of the protective dome. In the middle of this meadow sits a pen. Mountains  border on the dome to the east, and there seems to be a small pond to the west.

A stout, plump lizard sits in the middle of pen, eyeing you warily.

The lizard backs away suddenly, as if scared by your movements, and starts to hiss.
action: Go east
response: You are near a pond of yellowish water.

Dead at your feet lies some sort of black creature.

And there it sits, in the middle of the pond - the Jark.
action: You examine Jark
response: A jark is a jark is a jark.
action: You examine creature
response: The creature is small, shorter than you, and pitch black. It has an oblong head, no ears, tiny black eyes, and sharp, black teeth clearly visible behind a lipless mouth. It has a name tag saying hr. Ah, the guy they told you about at the job center. He's clearly dead, though, and therefore somewhat unhelpful.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are carrying:
HR
a scrap
a dream diary
a bowl
a Roz pyramid
a bronze key
a toilet roll
a wooden slingshot
action: You look around
response: You are near a pond of yellowish water.

And there it sits, in the middle of the pond - the Jark.
action: You take Jark
response: You touch the Jark, and die a  jarkingly, horrible death, additionally discgracing your whole field of work.
action: Invert Jark
response: You skillfully invert the Jark, rendering it harmless.
action: You put Jark in bowl
response: You put the Jark into the bowl.
action: You ask Roz about the cukrovinca flour
response: "Oh, it's made from rocks. Not healthy for humans, I've heard. But neither is poison gas, eh?"
action: Sally
response: The Roz pyramid brightly says "Teleport activating now!"
You have a moment of vertigo, and suddenly you're elsewhere.

This is a cramped hollow inside some kind of mechanism. Cogwheels poke your ribs as the smell of machine oil assaults your nostrils. A rusty hatch leads out into the fresh air.

And yet, someone must be spending a lot of time in here, because there's a small cot resting on a couple of planks.

On the small cot is a Sally pyramid.
action: Leave
response: A quiet albeit windy retreat.

A metal machine, taller than you are, is here with a math book wedged underneath it.
action: Jojo
response: The Roz pyramid brightly says "Aye-aye!"
You have a moment of vertigo, and suddenly you're elsewhere.

This hut, wherever it may be, is made of thick glass, distorting the outside to something like a watercolor painting. A foam rubber mattress and a wardrobe seem to be the only bits of furniture. The doorway outside is south.

In the middle of the hut sits an old-fashioned oven. It is connected by loose wires, through a hole in the ceiling, to some sort of dish on top of the hut.

In a corner sits a robot. It looks like an old TV-set with metal tentacles attached. Inside, through a glass window, you can see one of the pyramids.
action: You go to the south
response: Short, green grass extends to the foot of the protective dome. In the middle of this meadow sits a pen. Mountains  border on the dome to the east, and there seems to be a small pond to the west.

A stout, plump lizard sits in the middle of pen, eyeing you warily.

The lizard backs away suddenly, as if scared by your movements, and starts to hiss.
action: You look at the lizard
response: You see nothing special about the lizard.

The lizard looks at you longingly and starts to hiss.
action: Go west
response: Some rocks have fallen from the Mountains outside the dome, building one of those rocky landscapes where climbing children hopefully fall and break their little necks. Stupid brats.

A smaller rock lies a few feet apart from the others.
action: You examine the rock
response: It's a rock the size of a fist, powdery, but hard.
action: Go east
response: Short, green grass extends to the foot of the protective dome. In the middle of this meadow sits a pen. Mountains  border on the dome to the east, and there seems to be a small pond to the west.

A stout, plump lizard sits in the middle of pen, eyeing you warily.
action: You go south
response: You can't go that way.

The lizard snaps at its own tail.
action: Invert lizard
response: You can only do that to Jarks!
action: Sally
response: The Roz pyramid brightly says "Roger that!"
You have a moment of vertigo, and suddenly you're elsewhere.

This is a cramped hollow inside some kind of mechanism. Cogwheels poke your ribs as the smell of machine oil assaults your nostrils. A rusty hatch leads out into the fresh air.

And yet, someone must be spending a lot of time in here, because there's a small cot resting on a couple of planks.

On the small cot is a Sally pyramid.
action: Go east
response: Knowing there's a cushy landing, you leap down into the pit.

This room is mostly occupied by a large pile of shredded paper. There aren't any obvious exits, but the north wall is entirely occupied by the backside of a large machine.
action: You examine the funnel
response: It's presumably for spewing paper fragments out of the shredder and into the room.
action: You go north
response: You squeeze your way through the hatch and eventually come out the other side.

This is a big open area. Hundreds of beings of all heights, colors, eyestalkitude and tentaclosity are wandering around, visiting little booths, and waving bits of paper, but mostly they're standing in line.

The room (and the crowd) stretches out in all directions except south, where the whole wall is taken up by the giant shredder. Nearby you notice a small, unstaffed booth.

"Only four years?" a green chimpanzee says to a blue chimpanzee. "They'll never take anyone with that little."
action: You put the rock in Shredder
response: You squeeze the rock into one of the tubes, ignoring the looks from the surrounding beings. The shredder makes some horrible gnashing noises, but  you think you heair a faint sputtering from the Shredder room.
action: You go south
response: You squeeze your way through the hatch and eventually come out the other side.

This room is mostly occupied by a large pile of shredded paper. There aren't any obvious exits, but the north wall is entirely occupied by the backside of a large machine.

A neat heap of Cukrovinca flour is on top of the other heap.
action: You take the flour
response: You easily scoop it into your hand.

Taken.
action: You put the flour in the bowl
response: You put Cukrovinca flour into the bowl.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying:
HR
a scrap
a dream diary
a bowl
Cukrovinca flour
a Jark
a Roz pyramid
a bronze key
a toilet roll
a wooden slingshot
action: Go north
response: You squeeze your way through the hatch and eventually come out the other side.

This is a big open area. Hundreds of beings of all heights, colors, eyestalkitude and tentaclosity are wandering around, visiting little booths, and waving bits of paper, but mostly they're standing in line.

The room (and the crowd) stretches out in all directions except south, where the whole wall is taken up by the giant shredder. Nearby you notice a small, unstaffed booth.

"No, no, that won't do at all," says an interviewer at one of the booths to a gelatinous blob. "I'm afraid chuffling certification is an absolute requirement for any job here." The blob jiggles unhappily and oozes away. The interviewer shrugs and shoves the blob's resume into a nearby tube, where it's immediately sucked out of sight.
action: You get in the line
response: You get into the line, and wait. And wait, and wait. Eventually you reach the front, where you are scrutinized by a sort of mutant crab-zebra thing. "WHERE'S YOUR RESUME?" it roars. "GET OUT OF HERE!" To the accompaniment of menacing pincer snaps and glares from the other interviewees, you slink out of the line.
action: You examine the HR
response: The creature is small, shorter than you, and pitch black. It has an oblong head, no ears, tiny black eyes, and sharp, black teeth clearly visible behind a lipless mouth. It has a name tag saying hr. Ah, the guy they told you about at the job center. He's clearly dead, though, and therefore somewhat unhelpful.

Two aliens get into an argument over who was next in line. The debate is resolved when the smaller one unhinges its jaw surprisingly far and eats the other.
action: Jojo
response: The Roz pyramid brightly says "Gotcha, boss!"
You have a moment of vertigo, and suddenly you're elsewhere.

This hut, wherever it may be, is made of thick glass, distorting the outside to something like a watercolor painting. A foam rubber mattress and a wardrobe seem to be the only bits of furniture. The doorway outside is south.

In the middle of the hut sits an old-fashioned oven. It is connected by loose wires, through a hole in the ceiling, to some sort of dish on top of the hut.

In a corner sits a robot. It looks like an old TV-set with metal tentacles attached. Inside, through a glass window, you can see one of the pyramids.
action: You ask Roz about the HR
response: Famous Jark inverter. Helped some dude escape somewhere.
action: You ask Roz about the lizard
response: "Stop talking and do something interesting!"
action: Go north
response: This hut, wherever it may be, is made of thick glass, distorting the outside to something like a watercolor painting. A foam rubber mattress and a wardrobe seem to be the only bits of furniture. The doorway outside is south.

In the middle of the hut sits an old-fashioned oven. It is connected by loose wires, through a hole in the ceiling, to some sort of dish on top of the hut.

In a corner sits a robot. It looks like an old TV-set with metal tentacles attached. Inside, through a glass window, you can see one of the pyramids.
action: You examine Jojo
response: (the robot)
You see nothing special about the robot.
action: You look at the pyramid
response: (the Roz pyramid)
It's a pyramid-shaped piece of metal which, surprisingly, can talk. For instance, right now it says "Quit starin' at me and get on with things!"
action: Go south
response: Short, green grass extends to the foot of the protective dome. In the middle of this meadow sits a pen. Mountains  border on the dome to the east, and there seems to be a small pond to the west.

A stout, plump lizard sits in the middle of pen, eyeing you warily.
action: You hit the lizard
response: You try a little shadow boxing in the direction of the lizard.
action: You kill the lizard
response: You try a little shadow boxing in the direction of the lizard.

The lizard snaps at its own tail.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying:
HR
a scrap
a dream diary
a bowl
Cukrovinca flour
a Jark
a Roz pyramid
a bronze key
a toilet roll
a wooden slingshot
action: You throw Roz at the lizard
response: You lack the nerve when it comes to the crucial moment.
action: Invert lizard
response: You can only do that to Jarks!

The lizard blinks.
action: You drop the HR
response: Dropped.
action: Sally
response: The Roz pyramid brightly says "Aye-aye!"
You have a moment of vertigo, and suddenly you're elsewhere.

This is a cramped hollow inside some kind of mechanism. Cogwheels poke your ribs as the smell of machine oil assaults your nostrils. A rusty hatch leads out into the fresh air.

And yet, someone must be spending a lot of time in here, because there's a small cot resting on a couple of planks.

On the small cot is a Sally pyramid.
action: Smell
response: It smells nasty in here. The sooner you get back out into the fresh air, the happier you'll be.
action: You move the planks
response: Those are fixed in place.
action: You take the book
response: As you move the book, the metal machine rocks scarily. You instantly desist.
action: You jump
response: Not after four p.m., no way. This is the time where you can act dignified again.
action: Go west
response: Really, this was just a glorified hallway. You used to like places like this. Tiles and cinderblocks. No-nonsense, nothing gaudy. They do just what they promise: take you from room to room without asserting themselves. But something's gone terrible wrong. The whole floor is lousy with confetti, thick as snow and almost painful to look at. The door is ajar, swinging a bit in the breeze.
action: You go to the north
response: Every last inch of wall space here, save for the window, is plastered with needless decor: nature caricatures, inspirational glurge, posters with cartoon letters and plus signs. The floor's no better; the brats didn't pick up when Miss Lauren told them to pick up and now it's cluttered with gaudy plastic. The books are tossed into the carpet square pile and someone's dripped tempera paint onto every table. And there's more, it seems, every second. Leaves and dirt by the doorway. Shredded paper that's not in the waste bin.
action: You take all
response: small metal pyramid: Taken.
Cukrovinca flour: You easily scoop it into your hand.

Taken.
Jark: Taken.
leaves: Not without your gloves, and you're not sure where you left those. Of course.
paper: That's hardly portable.
books: You dig through the pile a bit, but it just collapses in on itself. Ugh.
tables: They're hardly portable.
window: That's hardly portable.
posters: You'd love to. It'd be nice to see the walls look crisp again. But yo u're forbidden to, and close enough to being fired as it is.
toys: You pick up a toy and stack it in the bin, but by the time you get back to the pile there just seem to be more. What fool decided to make toys reproduce?
bin: You're not really in good enough standing with Miss Lauren to try replacing it again.
action: You take the confetti
response: There's too much of it.
action: You search it
response: You sift through the confetti, but find nothing but more of it. What were you hoping for? Gold?
action: Sally
response: The Roz pyramid brightly says "Roger that!"
You have a moment of vertigo, and suddenly you're elsewhere.

This is a cramped hollow inside some kind of mechanism. Cogwheels poke your ribs as the smell of machine oil assaults your nostrils. A rusty hatch leads out into the fresh air.

You can see a small cot (on which is a Sally pyramid) here.
action: You ask Roz about the cookie
response: "As I said, Jojo went a little flaky in exile."
action: You ask Roz about Jojo
response: "Jojo, she left us. Wanted a solitary life, on one of those empty backwater planets. Guess you could visit her, if you need a vacation. I think I should've mentioned her oath of silence. Sorry."
action: You ask Roz about the razor blades
response: "Those things are so useful!"
action: You ask Roz about about the confetti
response: "Confetti is so pretty. I like all the colors mixed together."
action: You ask Roz about the marbles
response: "You're a wicked shot with those things! I'll have to tell Leon to get us some more."
action: Hiss
response: You hiss. The lizard suddenly gives you bedroom eyes and lays an egg.
action: You take the egg
response: Taken.

The lizard backs away suddenly, as if scared by your movements, and starts to hiss.
action: You put the egg in the bowl
response: You insert the last ingredient and shake the bowl a bit. Wow, thanks to the astonishing qualities of the jark, you now have some delicious dough.
action: You look at the dough
response: It's some dough, greenish in color.
action: Go north
response: This hut, wherever it may be, is made of thick glass, distorting the outside to something like a watercolor painting. A foam rubber mattress and a wardrobe seem to be the only bits of furniture. The doorway outside is south.

In the middle of the hut sits an old-fashioned oven. It is connected by loose wires, through a hole in the ceiling, to some sort of dish on top of the hut.

In a corner sits a robot. It looks like an old TV-set with metal tentacles attached. Inside, through a glass window, you can see one of the pyramids.
action: You put the bowl in the oven
response: The oven is closed.
action: You open oven
response: You open the oven.
action: You put the bowl in the oven
response: You put the bowl into the oven.
action: You close the oven
response: You close the oven.
action: You examine the oven
response: It is old, spotted with rust, but surprisingly clean. It has a single button. In it you see a bowl.
action: You open the oven
response: You open the oven, revealing a bowl.
action: You look in the bowl
response: In the bowl is a cookie.
action: You examine the cookie
response: Hm, it looks delicious beyond words. So there you go then.
action: You give the cookie to Jojo
response: (the robot)
(first taking the cookie)
One of the tentacles graps the cookie eagerly. Something inside the machines starts to rattle and click, and then an unseen opening spits out more green continous paper. It reads
THANKS - NOW CAN FEED LIZARD - DUCK.
As you try to bring the image of the lizard together with a duck, the wardrobe behind you squeaks and something hits you quit hard in the back of the head.
"Tarquin!" shouts Roz in your hand.
action: You examine the wardrobe
response: It's a blue, wooden wardrobe. It looks too small to store all of the stuff one may need, but maybe it's bigger on the inside.
action: You look around
response: This hut, wherever it may be, is made of thick glass, distorting the outside to something like a watercolor painting. A foam rubber mattress and a wardrobe seem to be the only bits of furniture. The doorway outside is south.

In the middle of the hut sits an old-fashioned oven. It is connected by loose wires, through a hole in the ceiling, to some sort of dish on top of the hut.

In a corner sits a robot. It looks like an old TV-set with metal tentacles attached. Inside, through a glass window, you can see one of the pyramids.

You can also see a small metal pyramid here.
action: You examine the metal pyramid
response: (the small metal pyramid)
You see nothing special about the small metal pyramid.
action: You take it
response: Taken.

Suddenly a swirl of energy engulfs you, and an HR-tinged voice beckons your very being.

Bare white painted walls make up three sides of this room. The fourth, which happens to be the northern wall, is taken up by a large pair of glass doors.

You can see a large pair of glass doors here.
action: Author
response: Scene 6, "Bureaucracy", was written by Mark J. Musante.
action: You ask Roz about Tarquin
response: "Good old Tarquin.He's the smart one. Well, not as smart as me. Anyway,  he tried to investigate the machine, but I can't reach him anymore."
action: You examine the doors
response: Although they're glass, they're frosted over so you can't see through them. There is a giant letter H on the left door, and a giant letter R on the right.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying:
a bowl
HR
a scrap
a dream diary
a Roz pyramid
a bronze key
a toilet roll
a wooden slingshot
action: You open the doors
response: You open the large pair of glass doors.
action: Go north
response: This is the nerve center of the Human Resources operation. The room's vastness is matched only by the amount of noise being generated. People are walking everywhere and you're constantly ducking and weaving to avoid being bumped into. You think you can see a disused cubicle off to the northeast.

You can see a large pair of glass doors here.
action: Go northeast
response: This cubicle has seen better days, but at least it's out of the way of all the madness outside. A desk and a couple of chairs are here.

You can see an office chair (empty) here.
action: You look at the desk
response: A large green metal desk. There's nothing on it.
action: You sit on the chair
response: You get into the office chair.
action: You put HR on the desk
response: You put HR on the desk.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying:
HR
a bowl
a scrap
a dream diary
a Roz pyramid
a bronze key
a toilet roll
a wooden slingshot
action: Go southwest
response: HR Central (in the office chair)
This is the nerve center of the Human Resources operation. The room's vastness is matched only by the amount of noise being generated. People are walking everywhere and you're constantly ducking and weaving to avoid being bumped into. You think you can see a disused cubicle off to the northeast.

You can see a large pair of glass doors here.
action: Go north
response: You push off into the throng of passers-by, and skilfully guide your new hot-rod through the vast HR cubicle maze. Or, y'know, maybe the workers here are just avoiding the maniac on the chair. Eventually you make a wrong turn and the wheels catch on the threshold of an office doorway. The chair tips over and you're dumped onto the floor.

As you slowly get up, you hear the door swing shut behind you.

Unlike the cubicles outside, this office has a real door and a real window. The noise of the HR worker bees outside is almost completely shut out. You look around in wonder, and see a desk, a chair, some paintings on the wall, and a fake potted plant.

Before you can react, a question is shot at you like an arrow that's, um, question-mark shaped.

"Who the hell are you?" asks the questioner in a booming voice.

You spin around to see a large and imposing man turn towards you, a sweaty hand clicking the door carefully shut. You stammer out an introduction and the man relaxes (just a little).

"Ah," he says. "I am Mr Hokensox. Your resume was sent along by one of our lobster-horses."

"Oh, I thought it was a crab-zebra," you venture.

"Ah, no, although they do like to get stripe tattoos, don't they?
Have a seat and we'll get your forms sorted and set up your orientation schedule."

You can also see a small wooden chair here.
action: You sit on the chair
response: (the small wooden chair)
You sit uncomfortably down in the wooden chair and look up at Mr. Hokensox.

He peers more at the papers in his hand and says, "I see that you
used to be a teacher. You should fit in quite well here. We have numerous people who act like kids. Ha ha."

You smile weakly, thinking that you have landed somwhere very much like where you left.

"Hmm... Okay, please have these forms filled out by your orientation, which starts in one hour."

Mr. Hockensox hands you forms XY11, UT18 and TB06.
"Now," says Mr Hokensox, "let me show you to your new workplace."

Mr Hokensox puffs around the desk and unlocks the door. He leads you out into the main office again, and then through a maze of cubicles. You try to concentrate on the path you take, but soon you're hopelessly lost. He stops abruptly in front of a cubicle that looks like every other one. "Here you are, cubicle number 78-33183. I'll leave you to get settled in and fill out those forms. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

Before you can draw in a breath, Mr Hokensox turns and leaves with such a speed that defies his size, leaving you alone clutching your forms.

Four grey walls. At least the school had some more color than this. They haven't even had time to put a desk in here yet, nor a chair.
The corridor leads out to the southeast.
action: You look at the xy11
response: It's a blank sheet of paper with XY11 at the top scribbled in crayon.
action: You look at the ut18
response: It's a blank sheet of paper with UT18 at the top scribbled in magic marker.
action: Examine tb06
response: It's a blank sheet of paper with TB06 at the top scribbled in finger paint.
action: You ask Roz about forms
response: "That's boring."
action: You go southeast
response: There is nothing but cubicles as far as you can see to the north and southwest. Your cubicle lies to the northwest.
action: Go north
response: You head north through the maze and find yourself at a wall, which you follow. A little farther down the wall, you find an opening, which you duck into.

As you take in the filth and splendor that is the break room, you hear from behind you, "Oh hi! You must be the new person!"

You spin around to see someone (something?) walking toward you. It's hard to tell behind the pile of papers this person is carrying.

"I'm Ferd. I've been assigned as your orientation guide!"
action: You examine Ferd
response: Almost as wide as he is tall, Ferd looks at you with a very wide grin that seems to take up most of his face. It's hard to see the rest of him because of the pile of paper he's carrying.
action: You ask Ferd about ut18
response: There is no reply.

Ferd suddenly belches in an uncomfortable-looking way, then taps his chest (or so you assume, behind the pile of papers). "Guess my ticker's acting up again," he says.
action: You ask Ferd about Ferd
response: There is no reply.

"I hope it doesn't explode again," Ferd says. "Destroyed most of the planet I was on. They had to clean up for years!"
"Oh no!" Roz says. "This is a job for George!"
action: You ask Roz about George
response: "Sorry, what? I was thinking about what I'm going to do for my next game."
action: George
response: The Roz pyramid says "Here goes nothin'!" You have a moment of vertigo.
An enormous metal pyramid suddenly appears in mid-air and falls on Ferd, squashing him flat. There is a muffled explosion but it barely takes out any walls and, at least in some sense,