Adventure Gamers - Forums

>cover window with stool
(putting the broken stool on the sill)
Are you trying to block the distraction from outside?  The stool pieces really can’t be balanced on the sill in a way that would work.

You are indescribably itchy.

>x pot
The pot is big and looks like pewter.  We’ve both been baffled at how heavy it is.  I wonder if the business school professor had the cactus specially repotted before he left just to make it more expensive for Madison to dispose of.

You are indescribably itchy.

>x gunk
It’s ink mixed with something grainy.  I don’t know what.  My guess is Marty bought it at one of those flea market tables that have children’s joke novelties on the left side and biological warfare starter kits on the right.

You’re looking out the window again.  The park is full now, pirates dancing with aliens, mole people chatting up zombies.

You are indescribably itchy.

>x clothes
I don’t know what the purple gunk is, but it’s certainly making you itch.

You are indescribably itchy.

Success!

>take off clothes
You place your clothes neatly next to the cactus.

So now you’re standing in your office naked, with a red binder clip on your nose and what looks like a furry three-legged space creature on your head.

You are ready to write now.  I can feel it.

>write
(first moving chair to desk)
The chair is back by the desk where it should be.

(then sitting on chair)
You start trying to write, but within a few minutes you are distracted by the scene out your window.  The park is full now, zombies dancing with pirates, aliens playing lawn darts with mole people.

(last try: distracted by goings-on outside)

>x window
(standing up first)
Your window is immediately behind your desk, about two metres high and one wide.  It has an old grey blind, which is raised.

The window sill is just below the back edge of your desk.

You look out the window.  The park is full now, pirates dancing with aliens, mole people drinking with zombies.

Primrose sings about how the boy asked her for ice cream and that she assumes he will either tell her about Jesus or try to recruit her into some multilevel marketing scheme. 

>x sill
The sill is behind and slightly below the desk.  It’s painted white.

>x blind
As I’ve already said, I wish the blind was more colourful.  It’s raised.  There’s a cord.

I don’t think you’re going to be able to figure out what the problem is with the blind from down here.  You’ll have to get onto the desk.

>pull cord
You pull the cord again and nothing happens.  I think you’ll have to get on your desk and look at the blind to figure out what’s wrong.

>get on desk
You climb onto your desk.  Be careful, banana squizzle.

>x blind
You can see what’s wrong with the blind now.  The little whatever is stuck.*  This is easy: you can just FIX it.

Primrose sings about how she is very quiet even in her dreams.  You have no difficulty ignoring her.

>*
Actual-Me of course knows precisely what the whatever is called.  I used the right term when I explained the workings of your blind to you at length on that napkin at WinkyDog.  Imaginary-Me is using “whatever” because you don’t remember.

>put stool on blind
(getting off the desk first)
You need to be holding the broken stool before you can put it on top of something else.

>get stool
I don’t know why you’d want to carry the broken pieces of the stool around the office.

>unfold origami
What?  I spent two full days making that.  I can’t see any reason why you’d want to unfold it.
 
>i
You’re carrying my itinerary, fake snow, a cap, a pen, a small chip, a bit of lilac thread, a rubber square, a lighter, an empty plastic bottle, a notebook and a stupendously intricate origami trophy, and you’re wearing the platyPod.

You also have gum in your ears and a binder clip on your nose.

>

>get on desk
You climb onto your desk.  Be careful, chutney.

You’re looking out the window again.  The park is full now, zombies dancing with pirates, aliens chatting up mole people.

>fix blind
You squint at the whatever for awhile and fiddle.  Squint, fiddle, still stuck.  I think when I said you could easily fix it what I really meant was that, if I were there, I could easily fix it.

Squint, fiddle, SNAP.  You did it!  Or, wait, maybe you broke it.

Looking closer, you’ve definitely broken the whatever.  Perhaps you’ve also fixed it.  I can’t tell.

>pull cord
You pull the cord and the blind lowers halfway, then stops.

>unfold trophy
You take the trophy I made for you and methodically unfold it.  I cannot decide whether to be exasperated or moved by how you are so careful not to tear it.  You’re now holding a crumply sign, about a metre square.

I was so excited to give you that trophy.  I know I said to do “whatever you must.”  It still hurts to watch what that “must” is taking from us.

Ultimately, yes, I understand.  Then again, I’m speaking just as your imaginary rendition of me.  Actual-Me was already fed up enough to buy a plane ticket; I’m not sure how you expect to explain this.

HUH? Now we can? Bad game! Bad game!

I’m going to do it, I’m not waiting for the command. 

>cover window with sign
(putting the crumply sign on the sill)
You put the sign on the sill.  The sign and the blind together now block the view out your window entirely.

>write
(first sitting on chair)
(getting off the desk first)
You write two more sentences.  I can tell you’re feeling more confident.  I knew you could do this.  You conclude the first paragraph with an especially provocative participle.  Then you hit enter and realise:

You have to pee.

Unbelievable.  This must be an anxiety thing.  You are killing me.

AAAAAHHHHHHHHRRRRRRGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!