THE ARCHIVES OF ZORK
A fake interactive text adventure game.
ZORK is a registered trademark of Infocom, Inc., or something.
Revision 9 / Serial number e^(i*pi)

Pinnacle
It is pitch black. You are likely to be eaten by a grue.

Pinnacle
Moves: 0 Score: 0
> turn on light
I can't see any light here!

Pinnacle
Moves: 1 Score: 0
> light match
I don't know the word "match".

Pinnacle
Moves: 2 Score: 0
> search wall
Which wall do you mean, the granite wall or the surrounding wall?
> granite
There is no granite wall here.

Pinnacle
Moves: 3 Score: 0
> inventory
You are empty-handed.

Pinnacle
Moves: 4 Score: 0
> shout
Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!

Pinnacle
Moves: 5 Score: 0
> light me
You sputter dimly at first, but soon are a servicable source of light.
Pinnacle
You are standing at the top of a ramp that winds, helix-like, down the wall of a vast cylindrical chamber whose floor is lost in the darkness far below. A wrought-iron railing prevents you from teetering over the edge. Along the ramp, the stone walls are lined with dark wooden shelves, each packed with books. Between each shelf sits a plant in a clay pot, typically a dumb cane, cactus or palm, while on top of the shelves are philodendrons. Ivy curls along the wall.

Pinnacle
Moves: 6 Score: 10
> down
Shelves
A high wing-backed chair faces the shelves here. Next to it is a circular glass-topped table with three wrought-iron legs. The shelves continue out of sight below.
On the table are a brown ceramic tea pot, a cracked mug bearing a portrait of Sylvester McCoy, and a plate of gingerbread men.
The tea pot contains:
..........A quantity of jasmine tea

Shelves
Moves: 7 Score: 10
> examine chair
You see nothing unusual about the chair.

Shelves
Moves: 8 Score: 10
> sit on chair
What a comfy chair!

Shelves, seated
Moves: 9 Score: 20
> drink tea
You attempt to maneuver the pot's spout into your mouth, but succeed only in spilling hot tea on your chest.

Shelves, seated
Moves: 10 Score: 20
> pour tea into mug
Done.

Shelves, seated
Moves: 11 Score: 20
> drink tea
Mmmm! It really hits the spot.

Shelves, seated
Moves: 12 Score: 40
> examine shelf
A papyrus scroll, covered in elegant black hieroglyphics, catches your eye.

Shelves, seated
Moves: 13 Score: 40
> read scroll
You don't have the scroll!

Shelves, seated
Moves: 14 Score: 40
> get scroll
You can't reach that from here.

Shelves, seated
Moves: 15 Score: 40
> stand. get scroll. sit.
Ok.
Taken.
What a comfy chair!

Shelves, seated
Moves: 18 Score: 40
> read scroll
"The Love is Dead"
'This was written one fall evening in 1999 on a cocktail napkin at Givanni's, when I didn't have a book with me and needed some way to keep entertained while waiting at the bar for my lasagna to arrive. I began with the half-assed notion of producing something for No Shame Theatre, a local tradition Friday nights, to try and impress some cute thespians. Instead, I purged myself of some lingering angst from the summer by converting it into absurdity. (I hesitate to call it comedy, since you, dear reader, might not find it amusing.) See if you can tell which bits are autobiographical, which exaggerated, and which invented.'
First Draft
Second Draft

Shelves, seated
Moves: 19 Score: 50
> eat cookie
I don't know the word "cookie".

Shelves, seated
Moves: 20 Score: 50
> eat men
If you want to lick dick, just say so already.

Shelves, seated
Moves: 21 Score: 50
> eat gingerbread
Ouch! You chip a tooth on the rock-hard cookie.

Shelves, seated
Moves: 22 Score: 50
> I thought you said you didn't know the word "cookie"?
Shut up.

Shelves, seated
Moves: 23 Score: 50
> Stand.
Ok.

Shelves
Moves: 24 Score: 50
> get gingerbread
Taken.

Shelves
Moves: 25 Score: 55
> down
Sheep
The ramp here grows slightly uneven underfoot; short, stubby grass grows from the cracks between stone blocks. Between two shelves, a rusted iron spigot protrudes from the wall, and from it trickles a stream of water, tinkling like crystal chimes as it hits the floor and runs off over the ramp's edge.
A sheep stands on the other side of the rivulet blocking the way, unmoving, its mindless sheep eyes fixed on you.

Sheep
Moves: 26 Score: 55
> examine sheep
It appears to be a normal sheep, except for its unnatural stillness and a strange red glint you can half-see in its eyes. You cannot be sure, but it looks as though the sheep isn't even breathing.

Sheep
Moves: 27 Score: 55
> examine shelf
This shelf is packed with fliers and pamphlets; you see titles like 'Amoebic Dysentery and You', 'Give God a Great Big Hug', and 'Sexual Fantasies of the Victorian Age'. (This last appears to be a single blank page.)

Sheep
Moves: 28 Score: 55
> search pamphlets
Amongst the junk and dross, you find a little grey pamphlet with friendly red lettering.

Sheep
Moves: 29 Score: 55
> get grey pamphlet
Taken.

Sheep
Moves: 30 Score: 60
> read pamphlet
"The Haldeman-Julius Series in Impractical Thaumaturgy #3,472: BLEEM
The BLEEM spell: Turn self into a Sony Playstation emulator"

Sheep
Moves: 31 Score: 60
> down
As you cross the stream, the sheep jerks into motion. Its lips curl back to reveal a set of wickedly pointed canines, and its face twists into a mask of diabolic fury, or as near as a sheep can get. It launches itself at your throat, infusing its cry of 'baaaah' with an inexplicably menacing quality. You fall back across the stream; as the sheep attempts to cross it, it recoils as though it hit an invisible wall. It stalks along the trickle of water once or twice, hissing at you but seemingly unable to go any further, before returning to stand placidly immobile once again.

Sheep
Moves: 32 Score: 60
> examine sheep
It's a vampire, sure enough. You find yourself strangely drawn to its vacant livestock eyes, almost like still, silent pools in which you may drown...You jerk yourself awake as you're about to stumble across the stream, and steel yourself against further hypnotic trickery from the diabolical sheep.

Sheep
Moves: 33 Score: 60
> search for crucifix
You can't see any crucifix here.

Sheep
Moves: 34 Score: 60
> examine gingerbread
The men are almost featureless, rounded lengths of gingerbread. Of their appendages, only the arms stand out from the body, out to either side. They give the gingerbread men an almost crucifix-like shape.

Sheep
Moves: 35 Score: 60
> show gingerbread to sheep
The sheep recoils as you flash the crucifix-shaped cookie, then sniffs the air twice and relaxes. It seems to smirk at you, if sheep are capable of such a thing.

Sheep
Moves: 36 Score: 60
> search shelves
A dusty leather-bound octavo catches your eye, the words "HOLY BIBLE" embossed on its spine in gold.

Sheep
Moves: 37 Score: 60
> get bible
Taken.
As you pick up the volume, the sheep begins to shuffle nervously.

Sheep
Moves: 38 Score: 60
> read bible
As you open the Bible, you see that someone has eviscerated it. The spine and cover of a Bible have been grafted on to a scholarly treatise written in a neat calligraphic hand on vellum by some impious character.
'This was the major, and only really decent, paper I wrote for Interpretation of Literature in November 1999. My instructor, a Mr Banash, spent most of the semester trying to get us to analyse works in terms of gender, race, social class, sexuality, and postmodernistic self-referentialism. I threw together whatever I could think of to keep him satisfied. This was the one paper we had free reign on. Originally I wanted to do Lolita, my favourite work by far of those we'd read, but there was simply too much novel for me to narrow it down far enough. Fortunately, salvation presented itself, in the form of Ignacio Matte Blanco and Jorge Borges. I wondered what would happen if you mixed the two.'
The Library of Blanco

Sheep
Moves: 39 Score: 70
> beat sheep to death with gingerbread man
The sheep looks quite surprised as you reduce it to a bloody pulp.

Sheep
Moves: 40 Score: 80
> examine corpse
It looks like a perfectly ordinary gingerbread-flavoured vampire sheep's corpse to me.

Former Sheep
Moves: 41 Score: 80
> down

As you take a step further down the ramp, the stone beneath your feet fractures with a sickening groan. A spiderweb of cracks spreads through the slab, and before you can move you are falling into the infinite dark in a cloud of dust and jagged rubble.
Falling
This is another fine mess you've gotten us into.

Falling
Moves: 42 Score: 80
> scream
Mommy!

Falling
Moves: 43 Score: 80
> fly
No matter how much you flap your arms, you seem unable to achieve any meaningful quantity of lift.

Falling
Moves: 44 Score: 80
> wait
You are becoming rather bored.

Falling
Moves: 45 Score: 80
> bleem
The pamphlet disappears as you cast the spell. You are now a Sony Playstation emulator.

Falling
Moves: 46 Score: 80
> play Final Fantasy VIII
Oh, I see how you are. Interactive text-based adventure games not good enough for you, eh? I suppose you need *graphics* to have a good time, computer animations full of texture and detail that knock the polygons of Final Fantasy VII into a cocked hat, whose movie clips make real life seem pale and flimsy in comparison to their smooth pixellated bounty? Well, you won't get out of this so easily, Cholmondeley. Graphics? Ha! To the pits of Hell with thee, until you can develop a proper appreciation for words and their powers as imaginitive stimuli!
Waiting Room
A little part of your sanity dies inside you as you look around this nightmarish cavern. The rock walls burn ochre in the sourceless red light of this place; they seem to bend and intersect in ways that defy geometry. Rivulets of something like blood trickle down from unfathomable heights, dripping endlessly into seething cracks in the floor...Or do they bubble obscenely up from the cracks, to crawl endlessly up the walls? Strange glyphs and inscriptions adorn every surface, seeming to make a sort of half-sense you cannot quite grasp. Everything around you seems to shift and blur, as if matter, gravity, even perspective were fluid. There is a frosted glass door to the south, with 'H.P.Lovecraft' painted across it in neat letters. A megalithic archway leads north.
There is a group of mathematicians here, smiling at you genially.

Waiting Room
Moves: 46 Score: 80
> examine mathematicians
They look like perfectly ordinary mathematicians to me. One of them is wearing no trousers. Another has happy pants. They all have no social skills and wear sock suspenders. Happy Pants has a magazine under his arm, which he and the others occasionally pass back and forth and giggle at like schoolboys.

Waiting Room
Moves: 47 Score: 80
> hello, sailors
The mathematicians smile and nod, and invite you to a conference on operator algebras.

Waiting Room
Moves: 48 Score: 80
> give gingerbread to Happy Pants
The mathematician accepts your offering, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the cookie's fractal structure. As he does so the magazine slips from under his arm. The mathematicians are too distracted by talk of Hausdorff dimensions to notice.

Waiting Room
Moves: 49 Score: 90
> get magazine
Taken.

Waiting Room
Moves: 50 Score: 90
> read magazine
This appears to be a lurid glossy magazine called 'Sex and Violence'.
'The sex sketch was originally supposed to be a scene from a full-length play, which I'd tried to write in the spring of 2000 after being encouraged to do so by a friend who'd enjoyed "The Love is Dead" (which, now that I think of it, is a pretty crap title and a pretty crap line). It was going to be about a well-meaning but ill-fated schoolteacher, Frank, who's treated as life's pisspot and is rapidly running out of reasons to live until he begins to win back his self-respect and sense of empowerment through murder. It all started because I wondered how many corpses you could squeeze into one apartment while crossing a bridge. The play never materialised because I soon realised that I'm shit at playwriting. The violence sketch was a contextless, meaningless joke that popped into my head in the Ped Mall one evening when I was trying to work on the murder play. The same friend who'd encouraged me to try a play to begin with came across these fragments one afternoon and persuaded me to convert them into more potential No Shame pieces.'
Five Seconds of Sex
Five Seconds of Violence

Waiting Room
Moves: 51 Score: 100
> save
Insert save disk and then enter file name.
(Default is an indecipherable scribble in the script of the Voynich Manuscript): Oh, please. That's just silly.
Ok.

Waiting Room
Moves: 51 Score: 100
> south
Lovecraft's Office
A tall, stooped, greying man with a lantern jaw and no lips sits behind an ancient Georgian writing-desk, lit by a guttering oil lamp. The desk is covered in pages of crabbed handwriting. Cats mill about everywhere underfoot.
Lovecraft looks up as you enter. 'Ah, there you are at last. There's something I'd like to show you. It's my latest work. I hope you like it; it's...a romantic musical comedy. I call it "Young Shoggoths in Love".'
Your head explodes as Lovecraft begins to sing in a quivering falsetto.
****YOU HAVE DIED****
Your score is 100 (total of an undetermined number of points), in 52 moves.
This gives you the rank of Namby-Pamby Little Girly-Boy.
Restore, restart or quit: > restore
Insert save disk then enter file name.
(Default is a small dung beetle.): Oh, please. That's just silly.
Ok.

> inventory
You are carrying:
A papyrus scroll
One last gingerbread man
A gutted Bible
A glossy magazine

Waiting Room
Moves: 52 Score: 100
> ask happy pants about Lovecraft
I don't know the word "about".

Waiting Room
Moves: 53 Score: 100
> plug ears with papyrus
With a little saliva and a lot of kneading, you work fragments of the papyrus scroll into your ears. You are now quite deaf.

Waiting Room
Moves: 54 Score: 100
> south
Lovecraft's Office
A tall, stooped, greying man with a lantern jaw and no lips sits behind an ancient Georgian writing-desk, lit by a guttering oil lamp. The desk is covered in pages of crabbed handwriting. Cats mill about everywhere underfoot.
Lovecraft looks up as you enter. He says something you can't make out, and then appears to start singing as he reads from a manuscript before him. His Adam's apple bobs distressingly.

Lovecraft's Office
Moves: 55 Score: 100
> examine desk
The desk is covered with the 1,783,592 letters Lovecraft has written to his various correspondants since arriving on this plane of existence. Postal service being what it is in Hell, he had received but one epistle so far during his stay. It consists of three sheets of typewritten parchment paper-clipped together.

Lovecraft's Office
Moves: 56 Score: 100
> take parchment
Taken.

Lovecraft's Office
Moves: 57 Score: 100
> read parchment
'Dear H.P., I met God the other day...'
'I was sitting in the Ped Mall on Sunday, 16 July 2000, when I noticed a herd of Mennonites passing out leaflets. Before I knew it, I'd finished my first short story. I'd tried others before, but never finished one because they were all crap. "Mennonites", however, is crap, but finished crap at least, and moderately funny crap. You'll note my inconsistent use of tenses here, which I rectified in my next short story. Most of the exchange between Winston and God was written one restless evening in the Tobacco Bowl in August; before that, I'd left an awkward blank to be filled in later. Wow, a finished product. What a buzz.'
Mennonites

Lovecraft's Office
Moves: 58 Score: 110
> open desk
Dodging Lovecraft, who appears to be quite wrapped up in his singing, you open the desk drawer to reveal a fountain pen, three doughnuts, and the Bird of Space.

Lovecraft's Office
Moves: 59 Score: 110
> examine bird
The Bird of Space is 'a slim conventionalised bird of carv'd and polish'd horn, with a black lacquer'd surface. It is a typical specimen of the carving of Yankee sailors in the India trade a century ago--made under the influence of Sino-Japanese craftsmanship traditions. It stands as if pois'd for flight thro' gulphs beyond the galaxy'.

Lovecraft's Office
Moves: 60 Score: 110
> get bird
The Bird of Space crows angrily at your touch. Flexing its lacquer'd wings, the statuette flies off into the unfathomable gulphs of extragalactic space, but not before pausing to defecate upon your head.

Lovecraft's Office
Moves: 61 Score: 110
> examine dung
You had no idea that statuettes were capable of producing dung. This specimen appears to be a small, pill-shaped radioactive ceramic pellet, slightly warm to the touch.

Lovecraft's Office
Moves: 62 Score: 110
> get dung
Taken.

Lovecraft's Office
Moves: 63 Score: 120
> north
Lovecraft, adjusting his powdered periwig, hurries after you, clutching reams of sheet music.
Waiting Room
As Lovecraft enters the room, the mathematicians smile and nod at him, wiggling their walrus moustaches. You see Lovecraft, encouraged by this sign, clear his throat and begin singing again from the first verse. The mathematicians' heads burst like overripe melons, sending a shower of blood, cerebral tissue, and eyeglasses spraying over the room and its contents. Since the rock walls already dripped blood, this makes little difference.

Waiting Room
Moves: 64 Score: 120
> search corpses
A thorough inspection of the pockets, wallets, and body cavities of the former mathematicians turns up a random assortment of compasses, protractors, slide rules, and chalk, which you discard. You also find a matchbook, happy pants, and an overripe melon.

Waiting Room
Moves: 65 Score: 120
> examine matchbook
'Hilbert's Hotel: always room for one more.' There appears to be a further inscription inside the cover:
'This is the result of a differential geometry course I took in the fall of 2000, when I was introduced to the world of derivations, cotangent bundles, manifolds and differential forms, all conspiring to create a branch of mathematics devoid of any trace of the fun or intellectual stimulation that makes mathematics worth doing. It's like category theory, so artificial, contrived and abstract (in a different way than set theory or algebra, that is) that it means absolutely nothing at all to you when you do it In my rage and pain, I crafted this on 19 September 2000, as another possible No Shame piece. This is one of the few things I'm truly happy with As for the ending of the first draft...well, I was under a lot of stress at the time.'
Mathematics Ruins Lives (the first try)
Mathematics Saves Lives (the second try)

Waiting Room
Moves: 66 Score: 130
> examine melon
When you touch it, it bursts like, well, an overripe melon. What did you expect?

Waiting Room
Moves: 67 Score: 130
> examine pants
The happy pants are dun-coloured and well-pleated, and look as if they'd go with any blazer. Just looking at them makes you feel happy and chirpy and all-over good. You do a little jig in place.

Waiting Room
Moves: 68 Score: 130
> give pants to Lovecraft
Lovecraft accepts your gift dubiously, slipping the happy pants on over his knee-breeches and stockings. As soon as he zips the fly, a miraculous transformation seems to sweep over him: his customary Melancholy slips entirely from his Face, replac'd by a strange Elation, even Joy. His lantern-jaw'd Face convulses in a wholly unaccustom'd Grin of Mirth. He capers, he jigs, he kicks up his very Heels, his powdered Periwig and Sheet-Musick slipping to the Ground. Lovecraft dances about in a circle, plants a manly Kiss upon your Lips, and skips off to the north, wholly seiz'd by relentless Humour.

Waiting Room
Moves: 69 Score: 130
> take wig and music
Taken.

Waiting Room
Moves: 70 Score: 130
> read music
Among the pages of 'Young Shoggoths in Love', lost in the jumble, you come across a strange sheet of silvery metal foil, embossed with Japanese ideograms, with a squiggle of red ink in the margins:
'One Thursday in mid-September 2000, I popped down to the Ped Mall to have a look 'round before I took a walk. I wound up sitting there on a bench scribbling in my notebook until it became too windy and dark to continue, when I retired into a convenient coffee shop. After a total of four or five hours, I had produced a complete short story, which I revised and typed up on Saturday before I ushered at Riverside Theatre. That makes two stories in one lifetime. When you're hot, you're hot. It is a crude and simple thing, but represents a substantial improvement for me. I'm getting noticably better when it comes to form and flow. I've also developed a fascination for writing in the present tense; so few people seem to. Who knows, after a few more years of practice, I might be ready to try and sell a novel, if my inspiration holds up that is. An improbable dream I know, but a pleasant one, so I think I'll keep it.'
Evil Dot Com

Waiting Room
Moves: 71 Score: 150
> north
The Gates of Hell
Lovecraft has left a trail of rose petals, soap bubbles and butterflies leading through a set of titanic gates set into the forbidding stone wall. Noxious fumes fill the air, irritating your eyes, and strange, shadowy flames seem to dance behind the veils of mist. The gates themselves are terrifying structures, huge iron slabs encrusted with bloody spikes, thick chains, countless locks, and pointless rivets. Seven serpents' heads poke from the stone surrounding them, breathing poison and flame. Seven slime-encrusted tentacles writhe around the jamb, their suckers hungry for prey. A seven-headed, seven-armed, seven-nippled, seven-penised giant swings a mighty club, guarding the gate. In one hand he holds the leashes of two and a third howling, gnashing Cerberi (that's the plural of Cerberus, in case anyone cares).

The Gates of Hell
Moves: 72 Score: 150
> enter gates
When you step up, the serpents spew, the tentacles lash, the Cerberi snarl, and the giant pulls out your earplugs--your ears immediately echoing with the cries of the damned--to inform you that you just aren't cool enough to enter Hell, not like that guy with the phat pants. He beats you unconscious with one giant phallus. You awaken, embarassed and sore, glad that your mother wasn't there to see it.

The Gates of Hell
Moves: 73 Score: 150
> examine walls
Someone has chalked an inscription here: 'Hell is being trapped forever in a room with your friends. -Jean-Paul Sartre'. Beneath this, someone else has inscribed 'Hell is being trapped forever in a room with Jean-Paul Sartre. -his friends'.

The Gates of Hell
Moves: 74 Score: 150
> examine gate
There is no way around it. None at all. Don't even think about trying it. Really. I mean it.

The Gates of Hell
Moves: 75 Score: 150
> wear wig
You place the powder'd Periwig upon your Head; a sudden Air of Dignity o'ercomes you. Doubt not that the Chicks dig it.

The Gates of Hell
Moves: 76 Score: 150
> enter gate
'Dig the wig,' the giant winks at you as he ushers you through, with the Cerberi, the serpents and the tentacles all limp and flaccid, unlike the giant.
The Drawing-Room of Hell
Lovecraft's trail of joy continues across the Persian carpets of this ornate walnut-panelled chamber, only to be disrupted by the sweeping broom of a slack-jawed, vacant-eyed maid whose trembling hands are the only signs of sensation or feeling left in her withered form. Doors lead off to the north, east and west. Chairs and tables litter the floor, themselves overflowing with brandy snifters, decanters, humidors, great wads of money used as lavatory paper, and prophylactics. Tall oak bookshelves line the walls, filled with thick leather-bound tomes. A multitude of cats lounge here lasciviously, looking somehow sodomised. What terrible atrocities have been caused by those happy pants? We can only pray we never know.

The Drawing-Room of Hell
Moves: 77 Score: 160
> examine books
All of them appear to be fake, there only to make the proprietor look sophisticated. There is a compact disk wedged between two shelves with a glossy and colourful booklet, bearing on its cover a mustachioed Welsh face with twin chins and a carefree smile in a straw boater.

The Drawing-Room of Hell
Moves: 78 Score: 160
> take booklet
Taken.

The Drawing-Room of Hell
Moves: 79 Score: 160
> read booklet
'This popped into my head on the first of December, 2000, in the chill evening when I was on my way to No Shame Theatre. The name had been the first thing I came up with. A friend had mentioned some time before that I should find a new nickname for myself, and for some unfathomable reason the first thing I thought of was "Cat Molester Jones". The name haunted me, and I grew quite obsessed, trying desperately to think up some merry misadventures for Mr Jones, since he was in my head screaming to get out and seek fame and fortune. Hmm, I pondered. Perhaps he could be wanted for tax evasion. Perhaps he could be helping to tame the wild frontiers of the British Empire in Liverpool. None of it quite gelled, however, until Friday night. Then suddenly, there it was. I didn't have a pencil with me, for the first time in months. I practically sleep with one of the things. And whole sentences were materialising in my mind. Fortunately I was able to hold them mostly in place until I got home and rattled it all off in about ten minutes while half-asleep.'
Cat Molester Jones

The Drawing-Room of Hell
Moves: 80 Score: 170
> sodomise cat
I'm not going to play with you any more if you keep that up.

The Drawing-Room of Hell
Moves: 81 Score: 170
> construct a crude 'gun-type' fission bonb from the radioactive dung pellets, three cigars, a decanter of brandy, and a cat
With a little work and cleverness, you manage to convert a fluffy Persian cat into a serviceable nuclear weapon.

The Drawing-Room of Hell
Moves: 82 Score: 200
> west
The Conservatory of Hell
This greenhouse appears to have been designed by an architect usually specialising in Gothic cathedrals. The ceilings are high and vaulted, the walls buttressed, thick columns sprouting from the floor like weeds. Everything here is composed of thousands of tiny panes of glass. Nothing is visible outside, not the slightest trace of light. The only illumination comes from your own faint phosphorescence and that of the plants, rank after rank of plants in glass troughs, growing thick and lush. Orchids, mostly. But evil orchids. 'Cause they're glowing. Oooh, spooky. The light glistens on the glass in odd, shifting patterns. Archways lead off to the east and north.

The Conservatory of Hell
Moves: 83 Score: 200
> examine orchid
It appears to be an Odontoglossum of some variety, with rich red starfish-shaped blossoms and a faint but pleasant scent. But it's evil.

The Conservatory of Hell
Moves: 84 Score: 200
> pick orchid
You pop an orchid into your buttonhole. But it's still evil. Evil, I tell you, evil! Evil!

The Conservatory of Hell
Moves: 85 Score: 200
> throw gingerbread man at wall
The glass shatters as the gingerbread man strikes it; the entire room begins to tremble, dreadful cracks spreading across the glass surfaces, until with an almost painful crash everything disintegrates into razor-sharp shards, the entire conservatory raining down around you. You are impaled on one particularly large shard as it plunges from the ceiling, not unlike Patrick Troughton on the church steeple in The Omen. People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, you know. Or cookies. Throw socks next time.

The Conservatory of Hell
Moves: 86 Score: 200
> north
The Billiards Room of Hell
Here stands a fairly ordinary pool table and a rack of cues. This entire chamber is upholstered in obnoxious green baize, making it quite, quite evil. Exits lead off to the south, east and west.
V.I.Lenin is here.

The Billiards Room of Hell
Moves: 87 Score: 200
> play pool with Lenin
You have a pleasant and companionable game with the leader of the Russian Revolution. He beats you by three balls, and does a victory dance, the Froog, to rub it in.

The Billiards Room of Hell
Moves: 88 Score: 200
> impale Lenin on glass shard
You throw yourself at Lenin, impaling him on the glass shard that still protrudes from your body. He dies a messy and unnecessary death. His corpse is now stuck to your chest immovably, heave as you might.

The Billiards Room of Hell
Moves: 89 Score: 200
> search Lenin
Rooting through Lenin's pockets, you find a cocktail napkin scribbled on in Cyrillic with a cheap biro, and the destiny of the human race.

The Billiards Room of Hell
Moves: 90 Score: 200
> read napkin
'This was my first thingy of the Twenty-First Century, springing full-blown from my head on the eighth of January. I believe it began some two weeks before, a few days after my twenty-first birthday. I was out celebrating with a friend and had one or two drinks. After the bars closed and we returned to his apartment, I spent a few hours standing outside his bedroom door preaching the Glorious Socialist Revolution while he tried to sleep. I told him that I'd be Lenin, and he could be Trotsky...'
I am Lenin

The Billiards Room of Hell
Moves: 91 Score: 210
> east
The Elvis Impersonators' Lounge of Hell
Countless Elvis impersonators of all shapes and sizes, young Elvises (Elvi? Elves?), old Elvises, fat Elvises, thin Elvises, bloated rhinestone Elvises, all milling around with cheeseburgers and heroin. Lovecraft has been here; you can see traces of his trail of soap bubbles and romantic violin music. Doors lead south, east and west.

The Elvis Impersonators' Lounge of Hell
Moves: 92 Score: 210
> hello, Elvis
'Why, hello, Lenin. That glass shard must be new; it looks good on you.' Zounds, Lenin's corpse must make an admirable disguise.

The Elvis Impersonators' Lounge of Hell
Moves: 93 Score: 220
> east
The Bathroom of Hell
The bathroom is largeish, and covered in spotless white tiles. A crystal chandelier hangs overhead, bathing everything in a luxurious glow. Potted palm trees stand in the corners. A jacuzzi is sunken into the floor; a shower and commode stand against one wall. On the opposite wall, next to the sink, is a bidet. But it's evil. Exits lead west and north.

The Bathroom of Hell
Moves: 94 Score: 220
> wash genitals
Lenin's corpse is in the way.

The Bathroom of Hell
Moves: 95 Score: 220
> north
The Golem Room of Hell
Golems and golem-related paraphernalia stand in every corner of the domed sandstone chamber, clay figures in every stage of completion and dismemberment. The dome overhead is etched with constellations and astrological sigils, while the floor is covered in chalk pentagrams and braziers pouring forth choking clouds of smoke. There is a stone slab in the centre of the chamber serving as a work bench, piled high with Talmudic writings, Kabbalistic lore, and matzo. Archways lead off to the south and northwest.

The Golem Room of Hell
Moves: 96 Score: 220
> search lore
You find matzo, a dreidel, Golda Meir and a massive clay tablet graven with ancient Hebrew characters.

The Golem Room of Hell
Moves: 97 Score: 220
> read tablet
'Early on in the spring semester of 2001, I noticed that my Electronics professor, who shall remain nameless, looked sort of...puffy. Pasty. Almost doughy. And his mouth was twisted down in an oddly cruel manner. I couldn't stand the man. The thought that immediately leapt into my mind was, "Gee, you know, he looks like an evil golem creature made of dough who eats babies." I shared this observation with a classmate, who agreed. Being as I am a rather obsessive person, I soon began thinking about golems far more than was healthy for me. On 20 March 2001, this obsession finally exploded into madness, and I crafted this at the Tobacco Bowl. Mr William Caudy was invaluable in inadvertantly offering constructive criticism to me, while being bitter and angry at all English majors everywhere. I threw in the Tales to, as he put it, "develop my ideas" more, and also to show off my Latin and my strange fixation on God. I think it's pretty darned funny.'
Golem

The Golem Room of Hell
Moves: 98 Score: 240
> northwest
The Family Room of Hell
For some reason, the family room, an unimpressive enclosure of faux wood panelling and matching sofas facing an unwieldy entertainment system, is filled with barbed wire dildos. Doors lead southeast and south, and a staircase ascends in one corner.
Mr and Mrs Hitler are sitting on a sofa, flipping through a massive art tome. 'Lenin, how are you?' they greet you.

The Family Room of Hell
Moves: 99 Score: 240
> kill Hitler with orchid
You kill Hitler with your orchid. Somehow. The orchid is evil, after all. It can do things like that. Mrs Hitler swoons.

The Family Room of Hell
Moves: 100 Score: 240
> defile Hitler
You render the corpse of the former leader of the Third Reich into soap, and market it under the brand name of Fascist Spring.

The Family Room of Hell
Moves: 100 Score: 240
> get art book
Taken.

The Family Room of Hell
Moves: 110 Score: 240
> read art book
'The first of these, "The Conductor", came to mind on Sunday, 1 April 2001 while I was walking downtown for a bite to eat. Electrocution suddenly leapt to mind. Electrocution, and sex. I sketched out the draft over a turkey, avocado, cream cheese and sprout sandwich. It isn't particularly funny, is it? "The Hitlerscope" has a vastly more interesting history. One Tuesday, 3 April, I was lounging around after my Electronics lecture trying to decide what to do for my special project. To pass the class I needed to design and build my own simple, practical electrical circuit. Being as I am completely incompetent, this was somewhat discouraging. I hit upon the idea of building a Hitlerscope, since nobody could prove that it didn't work. Unless they were Hitler, in which case I'd simply turn them in to the Israeli authorities and live the rest of my life as a beloved celebrity. Since I'd been on a Hitler-related-humour-binge, I decided to shape this idea into comedy, drawing additional inspiration from Mr Montalk. I originally hoped to create a whole cycle of Hitler pieces, maybe twelve in all, but none of the other ideas I came up with were very inspirational. I mean, "Hitler in the Sky with Diamonds"? What kind of an idea is that?'
The Conductor
The Hitlerscope

The Family Room of Hell
Moves: 111 Score: 250
> up
The COMINTERN of Hell
Leaders of the Communist movement from throughout history are gathered here in the Final Meeting of the Communist International, in a room resembling a miniature hotel convention centre decorated with Soviet and Chinese flags. Karl Marx and Fredrick Engels are swapping jokes with Groucho Marx and Robert Engels, co-author with David Lynch of the superb film Fire Walk With Me. Mao Zedong is making sock puppets with Josef Stalin. Stairs lead down.
Rosa Luxemburg spots you from across the room, and approaches angrily. 'Lenin, I am outraged by your emphasis on nationalism and independence in the Communist movement. Don't you see that those are merely other tricks the bourgeoisie use to oppress the masses? I cannot allow this COMINTERN to continue. Your stranglehold on world communism ends here, Lenin!' Rosa sinks into a fighting crouch, preparing to obliterate you with her super-secret ninja powers. Suddenly, as she is about to leap, a screaming dervish whirls into the room, engaging Rosa in a fantastic battle of martial arts prowess quite impossible to describe. Why, 'tis Lev Trotsky, Lenin's right-hand man! In their ferocious struggle, the pair blast through the western wall, revealing a secret passage.

The COMINTERN of Hell
Moves: 112 Score: 250
> west
The Secret Passage of Hell
This is a fairly typical secret passage, dark, dank, stone, mossy. Lovecraft has been here, leaving a trail of laughter and bluebirds of happiness. The passage slopes up to the east, and down to the west.

The Secret Passage of Hell
Moves: 113 Score: 250
> west
The passage eventually deposits you in...
The Jordan-Hölder Theorem
This famed theorem in algebra states that if a group G has a composition series (a finite sequence G = G₀ > G₁ > ... > G_n = {1} of nested subgroups, with G_i+1 normal in G_i, stretching from G itself to {1}, all of whose factor groups G_i/G_i+1 are simple), then the length of the series is an invariant property of G. C. Jordan proved in 1868 that the orders of the factor groups of a composition series depend only on G and not on the composition series chosen; O. Hölder in 1889 went on to prove that the factor groups themselves, up to isomorphism, also do not depend on the composition series, completing the proof that all composition series for a group are equivalent. You stand between the fourth and fifth lines of the proof. Lovecraft's spoor of uncheck'd Levity leads off to the south.
There are a Corollary and the derived series for the dihedral group D_2n here.

The Jordan-Hölder Theorem
Moves: 114 Score: 250
> examine corollary
'Ever since I felt inspired to write the original "Golem", I'd yearned to write "Golem II: The Bionic Vapour Boy" because it is the name of a song from Mr Bungle's "California" album. Unfortunately, I was fresh out of ideas. On Wednesday, 4 April 2001, I had to research a paper for my Latin class, went to work out afterwards, and then, somewhat knackered, decided to stop in at the Tobacco Bowl (a coffee shop and tobacconist's, very popular amongst Iowa City's unhip) for a cup of tea to refresh myself before going home. After doodling a bit about the death of the Greek gods, I decided to tackle the problem of "Golem II" again. I could use a name, I thought. Since I'd just studied Roman sexual morality, I decided on Irrumatus (a perfect passive participle; put politely, it means 'One who has been face-freaked'). We'll need another character, I supposed. Why not call this one Susan? I call everyone Susan. Let's make Irrumatus a loser high school teacher, and the Bionic Vapour Boy his creation for the purposes of world domination. It seemed natural to me. Then I recalled a notion I'd had about a year ago, mentioned previously in the annotation to "Five Seconds of Sex". I had at one time considered writing a play about a schoolteacher, pissed on by life, who regains his self-respect through murder. I'd thought to include a scene where he met his mentor, a former professor, who had lost his tiny mind and run off to operate Big Bob's Burger Barn in the wilderness. I appropriated the idea and made it good, and thus did Professor Knob, based on my Intermediate Mechanics professor, come into being. Perhaps you don't find it as funny as the original. If you don't, then screw you. I like it.'
Golem II: The Bionic Vapour Boy

The Jordan-Hölder Theorem
Moves: 115 Score: 275
> examine series
The dihedral group D_2n is the symmetry group for the regular n-gon. It is generated by two elements, call them £, the clockwise rotation by (360/n)º, and $, reflection about an arbitrary axis of symmetry. It is fairly easy to see that $£$ = £^-1, from which it follows in short order that the commutator subgroup is <£>, the cyclic subgroup generated by £. <£> is abelian, so its commutator subgroup is {1}. Therefore the derived series for D_2n is D_2n > <£> > {1}, making D_2n a solvable group.

The Jordan-Hölder Theorem
Moves: 116 Score: 275
> get series
Taken.

The Jordan-Hölder Theorem
Moves: 117 Score: 275
> south
Blue
You are in blue.

Blue
Moves: 118 Score: 275
> read blue
'In early April 2001, I had a paper due for my Latin poetry class. I chose to do mine on sexuality in the Augustan age of Rome. In the course of my quite fascinating research, I came across a number of poems of Catullus with some homoerotic, both positive and negative, language or content. None of the translations I found really did a fair job, however. These are poems that somehow don't generally get taught in the classroom. On the ninth and tenth of April, while waiting to hear the results of the Departmental Latin Exam, I busied myself with translating three of them, trying my best to make the translations as lewd as Catullus's originals. The first was written in response to a pair of gentlemen who called Catullus a sissy; the second is a rather sweet love poem to a boy named Juventius; the third is a bawdy anecdote related to a friend. I tried to keep my translations to eleven syllables a line, like the originals, but I'm not poet enough to get the meter right. In the first poem, you'll notice I split two of Catullus's lines up into four of my own; I couldn't pack in the right level of connotation in just two lines. Hence the "ass pony".'
Improba Carmina Catulli

Blue
Moves: 119 Score: 282.7938
> out
The Deepest Sulphurous Fiery Pits of Hell
Here in the very bowels of Hell, where gouts of fire and brimstone jet at random from the pocked, scorched rock floor and a rain of blood sprinkles down from the ceiling above, invisible behind choking toxic clouds, and billions of damned souls cry out 'Silent Night' in a blasphemous chorus, here, where leads the road paved with good intentions, the very living rock has been twisted as if a living thing in pain into a giant throne studded with skulls all still somehow alive or at least aware, at the heart of all that is foul.
Satan is here, sitting on the throne.
H. P. Lovecraft is here.

The Deepest Sulphurous Fiery Pits of Hell
Moves: 120 Score: 282.7938
> examine Lovecraft
Lovecraft still wears the Happy Pants; a look of angelic bliss spreads across his face, and despite the oppressive evil of this place, an aura of sweetness and light still clings to him. 'All you need is love,' he tells the Prince of Darkness.

The Deepest Sulphurous Fiery Pits of Hell
Moves: 121 Score: 282.7938
> examine Satan
You see nothing special about the Satan.

The Deepest Sulphurous Fiery Pits of Hell
Moves: 122 Score: 282.7938
> kill Satan
What do you want to kill Satan with?
> again
A trap door opens.

The Deepest Sulphurous Fiery Pits of Hell
Moves: 123 Score: 282.7938
> what the hell?
Oops. Must be a bug in the code.

The Deepest Sulphurous Fiery Pits of Hell
Moves: 124 Score: 282.7938
> kill Satan with fission bomb
The cat squeals as you hurl it through the air with two subcritical masses of uranium in its bodily cavities. It strikes Satan, and the explosive charges send both masses crashing together. The uranium achieves critical mass, and a chain reaction begins. Within nanoseconds comes the explosion, light and heat and pressure unbearable from a blast more terrifying and dangerous than anything Hell could offer. Satan is obliterated, not even his bones surviving the detonation at ground zero. You and Lovecraft both survive, protected by the power of the Pants, with little more than a sunburn.

The Deepest Sulphurous Fiery Pits of Hell
Moves: 125 Score: 3e7
> remove Lovecraft's pants
Kinky. You pull the Happy Pants off of Lovecraft, who, let's be very clear about this, is still modestly clad in his knee-breeches underneath. The glow of perpetual ecstacy fades from his face; he looks around at the ruins of Hell, his lantern jaw set manlyly, as he contemplates the fundamental insignificance of humankind and its creations. He snatches his wig from your head and dons it as a vast cosmic plan takes form in his fertile mind. 'This is a realm of unreality, a land of fiction; everything here, even the physical laws, is subject to the will of the operator. A creative mind could turn this place into anything. Anything...' Lovecraft steps into the void left by Satan, bending reality to his rational atheist will. Hell warps and fades, dissolving into 454 Angell Street, Providence, Rhode Island...'There can be only one,' Lovecraft declares as he pushes you through the trap door. You fall.
Falling
Again...

Falling
Moves: 126 Score: 3e7
> wear happy pants
You feel nothing but a sudden erection. Cheering up Lovecraft must have overloaded the pants' powers.

Falling
Moves: 127 Score: 3e7
> cushion self with Lenin
You position the corpse of Lenin, still stuck to your chest with a glass shard, beneath yourself to absorb the oncoming impact...With an almighty splat, you hit the ground. Lenin explodes, but you appear to have survived.
Restroom
This is a fairly ordinary restroom, with a pair of urinals, two stalls, and two enameled sinks, with soap and paper towel dispensers on the wall.

Restroom
Moves: 127 Score: 3e7
> clean up
You clean off the blood, glass, bits of Lenin, and assorted other debris that have adhered to your body and clothes as best you can, give your hair a rinse, and do your nails. Eventually you look almost normal again.

Restroom
Moves: 128 Score: 3.000000000000000000000001e7
> search stalls
Someone has left an Ace double paperback sitting on a roll of toilet paper in the lefthand stall.

Restroom
Moves: 129 Score: 3.000000000000000000000001e7
> take paperback
Taken.

Restroom
Moves: 129 Score: 3.000000000000000000000001e7
> examine paperback
This cheap and thin paperback volume, its glue binding already giving way, has a lurid and overblown illustration on both the front and back covers, the publishers having squeezed two different works into one volume. The pages are dogged and yellowing, and smell pleasantly of used book.

Restroom
Moves: 130 Score: 3.000000000000000000000001e7
> read paperback
'These, like so much else, are the products of April 2001, surely a month that shall live in something or other. For "The Man Who Sold The World", I started off with a title and an image of the Salesman, which was inspired by a concert poster I saw stapled up on a telephone pole of possibly the world's most gormless performer. "Mr Bastard" grew from my desire to have someone order coffee "Black. As black as my heart," a line which I believe originated with my pal Graham (though his heart is not in fact black). I was forced to invent, on the 17th and 18th, rudimentary stories to go with them...There's no point to them, really, just an idle whim and a chance to exercise my descriptive prose skills. I love describing things. Plot just gets in the way.'
The Man Who Sold The World
Mr Bastard

Restroom
Moves: 131 Score: w
> save
Insert save disk and then enter file name.
(Default is an indecipherable scribble in the script of the Voynich Manuscript): Oh, please. That's just silly.
Ok.

Restroom
Moves: 131 Score: w
> quit
Your score is w (total of a transfinite number of points), in 131 moves.
This gives you the rank of an m x n matrix over a field, which is n minus the nullity.
Are you sure you want to quit?