Adventure Gamers - Forums

Oscar - 30 October 2016 03:26 PM

“Don’t rightly know. Just something I do. Same way as I know there’s 69,105 railroad ties between here and Muskogee. Ma said I was some kind of idiot savage.”

I wonder which is worst, the in-joke or that I recognized it right away. (I can’t get the link to work, but Wikipedia has an article about the number 69,105 and how it has appeared in several Infocom games in the past.)

>stand on bench

>stand on bench
You can’t! A pastor is passed out on it. There’s no room for you.

eriktorbjorn - 01 November 2016 06:29 AM

Oscar - 30 October 2016 03:26 PM

“Don’t rightly know. Just something I do. Same way as I know there’s 69,105 railroad ties between here and Muskogee. Ma said I was some kind of idiot savage.”

I wonder which is worst, the in-joke or that I recognized it right away. (I can’t get the link to work, but Wikipedia has an article about the number 69,105 and how it has appeared in several Infocom games in the past.)

>stand on bench

I knew there was something about that number! Let’s try the other old Infocom trick:

>xyzzy
You ponder your life.

For a brief moment, you wonder if your situation is but a painting in the mind of an artist; a meditation on form, an impression of rural life on the verge of industrialization as abstracted in the modern style.

On the other hand, you may just have some indigestion.

>cut vine with spur
That don’t work none. What kind of crazy talk is you up to?

Muddy scrapes some dust off his boots.

>open can with spur
Muddy cranes his neck to see what you’re doing. He’s never seen someone open a can with heel spurs. You slide the spur into the groove along the top of the can, and wiggle it back and forth. The can revolves, and the lid is nearly sawn off. It is hard to tell which of you is more surprised that this worked.

[Your score has just gone up by five]

Back in the office, the deputy looks tired.

>cut gray bar with spur
It’s already open.

The window sounds like the obvious way out, but I get the impression it’s too high up to get - or even look - through. Or can we look through it?

>look through window

Can we keep the pastor off the bed long enough that we can climb it to get a better view?

>put spur in pocket

>score
You have so far scored 5 out of a possible 24

>look in can
The can is full of beans.

Pastor Pete rolls back and forth on the bench.

>show can to muddy
Muddy takes a look at the can of beans and says, “Mmm. I love beans.”

>show can to pete

Suddenly, Pastor Pete leaps up and rants, “The unmatched sock is a WARNING for those who can see it. For each and every unmatched sock, there is another unmatched sock, which I say unto you, matches it. So too, the epitome of man’s moral corruption. Lo, though the sock may be unmatched, it need not be thrown out. What separates the sock from the pot holder? Nothing more than its fortune and perhaps some insulation. In this way, the upstanding and righteous may become common kitchen accoutrements, but for clean living, adequate FIBER, and a firm conviction in the conscientious daily application of an approved DENTIFRICE”. He then collapses on the bench again and falls fast asleep.

Back in the office, the deputy sniffles loudly and wipes his nose on his sleeve.

>show can to deputy
The deputy seems put out, but looks over at the can of beans and says, “Beans is good for the heart.”

Muddy tugs down on his vest, which had ridden up a bit.

Maybe we can push the pastor on the floor and then stand on the bench

> push pastor
> stand on bench

Can we annoy the deputy by playing the harmonica multiple times?
> play harmonica

Can we maybe eat the the beans?
> eat beans

>push pastor

Suddenly, Pastor Pete leaps up and rants, “What a wok is SPAM! Hot, nubile raisins, how if it is not feckless tea? INFORM and mooing hot espresso at a mere apple? INACTION cowlick angles? Incomprehension, how’d you like a cod? The bow tie unfurled, the parabola ovum nibbles; and yacht to my wad isthmus queen tennis oft dost? MY CANDLE LIGHTS ME NOT, Norway man knees air; throw by your Somali lint use, eat meat, seize Sue”. He then collapses on the bench again and falls fast asleep.

>stand on bench
You can’t! A pastor is passed out on it. There’s no room for you.

>play harmonica
The deputy cringes, as you blow not only the notes that are built into the harmonica, but every note in between as well. He stands up, shoves the warrant into his pocket, and grabs a bottle of whiskey off the cabinet.

“I declare: that’s just the worst thing I ever heard in my life. It’s enough to drive a man to drink.” To prove it, he takes a mighty swig from the whiskey bottle and wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve. The deputy puts his fingers in his ears and tries to ignore you.

You keep playing.

The deputy balls his hands into fists and trembles with annoyance, “I’m going to the saloon to listen to some real music, from some real talented lady folk of the female persuasion.” The deputy walks out the front door in a huff.

“You should hear me play piano,” you remark, but he’s already out of earshot.

[Your score has just gone up by one]

Muddy says, “Nice one.  Hey—I reckon I saw that screw up there wiggle a bit when you played the harmonica. I didn’t say nothing on account what the deputy was here.”  He points to a screw holding in one of the cell bars.

Muddy stares out the window.

>eat beans
When you were a child, you remember visiting your cousins, who all liked beans. Your aunt insisted that if they could eat beans, so could you. You choked on them, and coughed them up, and they made fun of you. Since then, you don’t even like the way they smell. The beans, that is. Actually, your cousins are kind of rank too.

Nonetheless, your stomach is growling and you could do with a meal.

[You have dealt with a repressed childhood memory in a constructive manner, your score just went up by two points]

The deputy pokes his head back in the office and remarks, “I’ve about had enough of you characters. You can stew in your own juices here. I got important things to do over yonder in the saloon. But I reckon I would be dairy licked to leave you jokers alone.”

The deputy grabs a dinner bell from the hook where it hangs next to the office door, and he rings the bell slowly a few times. Nothing happens. He rings it again. Minutes go by and the deputy waits impatiently. Finally, a fat bloodhound waddles leisurely through the doorway, tempted by the dinner bell.

The deputy reaches into his pocket and retrieves a scrap of beef jerky. He pitches it into the dog’s bowl, and the bloodhound gobbles it down. The deputy leads his mangy old dog towards the office’s strange-looking steam boiler and ties him to it with a leash.

“This here’s Flash, my hunting dog. I got to warn you that he can be vicious when he gets riled up, so don’t cross him.” Flash slowly slumps down next to the boiler, enjoying the heat. His heavy eyes close, and drool drips from his toothless mouth.

“Flash here’s apt to rip your throat out if you so much as look at him funny, but I got him hooked up here to the sheriff’s fancy steam contraption.” The deputy narrows his eyes distrustfully. “If you boys were so stupid as to make for the jailhouse door, ‘ol Flash would yank that lever and set off the steam whistle on the roof. The sheriff installed it special for me, so as I can come when he wants me. I can hear that halfway across town, and if’n I do hear it, then you’ll have to deal with me *and* Flash.” The deputy gives Flash one last pat on the head, swigs the whiskey one more time, and departs for the saloon.

Great, we’ve got a bit more leeway

Let’s continue eating beans
> eat beans
> eat beans

Does the harmonica really unscrew the screw?

> play harmonica

>l
Jail Cell
The small jail cell is brick on three sides, metal bars on the other, with a tightly locked gate. A small window is set into the brickwork above your head. Through the jail bars you can see the sheriff’s office.

Muddy leans against the wall.

In the corner of the cell, a disheveled man in a black suit is stretched out on a crude wooden bench and is snoring loudly, oblivious to your presence.

A dented food bowl sits on the office floor, only a few feet from the jail bars.

In the office you can also see Flash.

“That worked out well,” says Muddy proudly.

“Yeah,” you agree, “but my ears are still buzzing from that sound.”

>x bowl
A beat-up mining pan full of dents and scratch marks. The bowl seems to be nailed (yes, nailed!) to the office floor.

Muddy drums his fingers against the wall.

>i
You’re carrying a spur, a can of beans, a spoon, a hunk of meat, a stool, a pamphlet, a tin, a harmonica, your pocketwatch, your hat, and a scrap of paper. You are wearing your pants, overcoat, left boot, and right boot.

Flash sneezes, but somehow he manages to do it slowly.

>eat beans
The beans disgust you even more than the rancid meat.

[The thought is enough to make you lose a point.]

Pastor Pete shakes and twists spasmodically.

>undo
jail cell
You done backtracked some.

>play harmonica
Tentatively, you blow a few notes. The bars in the jail cell rattle sympathetically.

“Look at that, boy”, Muddy laughs, “I swear that screw up there holding that bar is wiggling loose!”

Pastor Pete shakes and twists spasmodically.

>again
Again, the room resonates with the rich and vibrant tones of a bagpipe connected to the blowhole of a beluga whale.

Muddy points excitedly towards the top of the gray bar, “When you played, that screw worked its way out more. It’s like you got some kind of sonic screwdriver or something! I think one more time will do it.”

>again
The screw vibrates out of the ceiling, rebounds off the concrete floor in a shower of sparks, and rolls under the deputy’s desk. A hollow gray tube falls loose from the upper reaches of the jailbars and lands at your feet.

“You done it!” shouts Muddy.

Cool, we now have a stool
> x gray tube
> screw gray tube on stool

Do we keep losing points if we continue eating the beans?

> eat beans

Also what happen if we eat the rancid meat?
> eat meat

>get tube
You grab the bar.

You hold it lengthwise and stare down its hollow shaft at Muddy. He looks back at you.

“Don’t that just beat all,” ponders Muddy.
[Your score has just gone up by one]

>put it in stool
You flip the stool over and wiggle the hollow gray tube into the empty socket. It fits perfectly and remains in place when you let go of the bar, but you think you could yank the gray bar out again if you needed it. You now have a stool with three even legs: two wood, one metal.

Outside, there is a brief cloudburst. The wind comes right behind the rain.

>drop stool
Ditched.

>stand on stool
Muddy holds it steady as you climb up. Your head is now even with the top of the window.

Pastor Pete rolls back and forth on the bench.

>look through window
The jail is at the end of a long street. Directly across the street is a saloon, which is open, unlike the stores on both sides of the street that have pulled down their shades for the evening. Below the window there is a covered barrel; you can almost touch its top. Just to the left of the window, a berry-covered vine has grown up the side of the building, and pokes in the window, lying on the narrow window sill.

Up in the sky, you notice a couple of hungry, circling vultures.

>eat meat
When your eyes refocus, you can see Muddy leaning over you, his face an expression of concern.

“You done fainted, Rick. Flat out like a board. Didn’t say nothing, at all. Just went down like a hog at a rodeo”.

giom - 01 November 2016 09:18 AM

Do we keep losing points if we continue eating the beans?

Yes.