Anyhow, here we are, proud to present "Choose Your Own Three Hour Adventure" by the monomaniacal fellow who holds the record for the most released games in the Adrift text adventure language (and possibly in any language), David Whyld, who endorses this conversion. This adventure shouldn't take three hours to play -- it was written as part of a competition to see how great a game people could make in only three hours. Three hours can get you a small quantity of functional code, or enormous amounts of goofy writing flimsily bound together with mere wisps of programming (nonetheless a pain in the neck to implement only two variables' worth of choices in a CYOA environment. A few low-variable CYOAs have been ported to the Kindle the same way -- essentially including a redundant copy of the entire gamebook for every combinatorial degree of complexity -- which bloats the file size up to that of a phone book, but which happily due to its redundant content compresses back down neatly. Still, a happier task for computers than for hand-crafting websmiths.)
It was written in the Adrift language, which though not designed to output choose-your-own-adventure types of games (rather the >ASK SAILOR ABOUT MONKEY kind) can still be hacked well enough to make them happen -- we'll be seeing a few of them here. I don't have any further details about the competition (oh wait, now I do -- the 2006 Adrift Hourglass Competition, in which it placed 8th of 13 games, no doubt due to cruel and prejudiced anti-CYOA sentiment), though my suspicion is that this was one of its stand-out breakaway entries.
The whimsical characters all originate from earlier games Mr. Whyld has worked on, which goes a certain distance (but admittedly no further) toward explaining them. (A suspiciously autobiographical game designer character is also present.) Suffice it to say that should your curiosity be piqued to learn more, there is a wider literature available to draw upon, though admittedly not in this conveniently Google-able gamebook format. You'll need an Adrift interpreter for text adventure (or interactive fiction) games -- Gargoyle is a good recommendation, as you can use it to play games across numerous formats, including Adrift, TADS which we've already seen, the Z-Machine, and plenty of others.
. . .
01
I open my eyes.
It's still dark! Am I blind? Or -
No. What's that in front of me? It's... it's...
It's a coffin lid! Dear gods, someone has buried me. And they didn't even have the decency to wait for me dying first!
. . .
02
I shout. If anyone hears me, they do a damn good job of pretending otherwise.
. . .
04
It should be impossible for one man to dig himself out of a coffin with nothing but his bare hands, but it's surprising what you can do when the thought of all that soil coming crashing down on you is foremost in your mind.
So I smash the coffin, claw my way through the soil beyond, burst through into the garden above... and then lie there, gasping, and thank my lucky stars that I survived that.
When I've finished gasping and struggled to my feet, I take a look around. I'm in a garden at the back of a large building, perhaps some kind of castle.
. . .
03
I offer a prayer up to whichever God it is that looks out for unfortunate chaps who have been buried alive.
Unfortunately, He doesn't seem to be inclined to help me.
. . .
05
I approach the castle, wary in case whoever lives inside is responsible for their attempt to bury me alive. I don't have a weapon, so I'll need to rely on my skill, ingenuity and common sense. Fortunately, I have oodles of all three.
I climb some steps to the main doors of the castle and, perhaps not surprisingly, find them locked. But, and this is surprising, there is a half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature standing before me with a trident clutched in its inhuman hands.
"Got outta the grave, did you?" it grunts. "Well, you ain't gettin' back inside till you beat me in hand to hand combat."
It also has eight hands.
"And if I choose not to fight you?" I ask.
The half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature laughs. "Then you ain't goin' anywhere."
. . .
06
Deciding cowardice is my best option, I turn tail and flee from the castle as far as I can. Unfortunately I don't get very far before tripping over a log, striking my head on a stone, landing face first in a spot of bother that a particularly foul dog must have left behind and wishing I'd never got out of bed this morning.
Some time is spent groaning.
. . .
07
I wait for something to happens.
It rains on me. Maybe someone up there is trying to tell me something.
. . .
08
So we fight. It's an uneven fight considering this thing weighs five times what I do, is twice as tall, has eight hands, is armed and is wearing indestructible body armour (did I mention the indestructible body armour before? I didn't? Oh, my bad) and I'm unarmed. The half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature beats me around the head several times until my once amazing good looks are reduced to just way above average.
"Ready for another whacking?" it laughs, brandishing the trident.
. . .
09
"Before we fight," I say, "we ought to discuss the rules."
The half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature frowns. "What rules?"
"The rules of combat, my dear ma- er, half-man, half-goat, half-bulldogcreature. If we don't fight by them, then the fight isn't a fair and just one."
The half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature frowns some more.
"Okay. What rules?"
"Well, first of all there is- Say, I bet that trident's awful heavy. Why don't you lay it down so you don't strain your arms holding it?"
"Yeah, good point," says the half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature and lays down the trident. "So these rules...?"
"Yes, the rules of- Hey, I bet you're really hot in all that armour."
"Well, now that you mention it-"
"You should loosen it a bit, yes right there at the neck, so you can let a bit of fresh air in."
"I'll do that. Collar loosened. Okay, the rules- gugughghyjyjyjyj!"
"The rules be damned," I say as I swipe the thing's head off with the trident it dropped. It might have possessed half the qualities of a man, a goat and a bulldog, but it had the brains of a flea.
- Head into the castle.
- Look for an alternative entrance.
- Strip the half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature and take its place.
. . .
10
I stand there and do nothing. The half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature grunts at me then whacks me over the head with its trident.
"Ow!" I cry. "That hurt! You never said you were going to hit me!"
"I never said I wouldn't hit you either," points out the half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature. Which, annoyingly, is perfectly accurate. "So, you gonna fight me now?"
"Will you hit me again if I don't?"
It considers. "Well... let's just say that if I were a betting half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature, I wouldn't bet on it not happening."
. . .
11
Still clutching the trident, I stride into the castle. It's a shadowy and grimplace inside, some kind of haunted house of hideous horror no doubt. I peer about myself, noticing a corridor in one wall, a door in another and a flight of steps leading up. Each one looks equally grim and forbidding.
. . .
12
After expending so much effort in getting the better of the half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature, I go hunting around for another entrance.
I don't find one.
. . .
13
The half-man, half-goat, half-bulldog creature doesn't have any clothes and so stripping it is a little difficult to say the least.
. . .
14
The corridor reaches a dead end at a wall where a rotund fellow with a shock of reddish hair can be seen. He's banging frantically away on a laptop and muttering to himself, bizarre words that probably make little sense.
. . .
15
I fling the door open, wondering what will be behind it, and find myself looking at... a wall. A rather boring and ordinary wall with nothing out of the ordinary about it at all.
Aside from the suit of body armour hanging there, of course. Knowing a good suit of body armour when I encounter it, I quickly slip it on and feel so much more protected than before.
A noise from the steps alerts me and I decide it's high time I found out what was up there.
. . .
16
Heart in mouth (not in the literal sense thankfully), I ascend the steps, trident held out before me. There is a flash of light when I reach the top and I find myself stepping forward into... a bedchamber. On the bed is lying a rather rotund fellow dressed in the traditional garb of the vampire.
. . .
17
The moment I approach the figure, he looks up at me, mutters "damnation! Why can't these malodorous fools realise a genius needs PEACE AND QUIET to work!" and snaps his fingers.
My surroundings change.
I am back in the entrance to the castle again, only this time the corridor exit is gone. In its place is an "OUT OF ORDER" sign.
. . .
18
"The name's Bob," he says, furiously typing away. "You may have heard of me. I'm the best writer of text adventures in the world. Everyone says so."
"Everyone?"
He shrugs. "Everyone, no one. Something like that. But I don't worry about their opinions because, let's face it, anyone who plays Bottom Burps IV and doesn't like it clearly hasn't got a clue what they're talking about it. Say, would you like to appear in my game?"
. . .
19
He appears to be writing a text adventure. "It's called Spot The Train," says the man. "It involves you, an avid train spotter, having to spot no less than 3,41 different makes of train as they pass, in real time, througha train station. Get all 3,41 and you win a prize."
"What kind of prize?"
"Spot The Train 2: This Time With More Trains! Sure to be another winner. Say, would you like to appear in my game?"
. . .
20
"Yes," I say.
At once, my surroundings change and I find myself standing at the side of a train track wearing a cagoule and carrying a pair of binoculars.
A train goes rushing past and, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a neon sign which states "1 DOWN. 3,171 TO GO!"
It's looking like a long day.
. . .
21
"No," I say, too late, as my surroundings change and I find myself standing at the side of a train track wearing a cagoule and carrying a pair of binoculars.
A train goes rushing past and, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a neon sign which states "1 DOWN. 3,171 TO GO!"
It's looking like a long day.
. . .
22
Clearly this was the correct decision to make when faced with such a dangerously mad character. I turn and run back to the entrance of the castle again, only this time the corridor exit is gone. In its place is an "OUT OF ORDER" sign.
. . .
23
Clearly forgetting everything I know about vampires, I lunge forward and stab this one in the chest with my trident.He blinks, opens his mouth in surprise and looks at the trident protruding from his chest.
"Oh bother," he mutters. "Another damn vampire killer. I guess I'll have to fang you in the throat now even though I'm a little reluctant to do so."
I try to back away, but his hand shoots out, grabs hold of me, draws me down towards him and then turns my head to one side.
"Try not to struggle too much," he murmurs.
"Will it hurt less that way?"
"No," he says. "But less blood will be wasted this way..."
His fangs dig deep.
. . .
24
The vampire awakens at my touch.
"Ah, hello," he says, blinking up at you. "The name's Hubert but I prefer Lord Sinister. What are you doing in my summer retreat?"
"I don't know," I confess. "I woke up in a grave out back, buried alive, and then made my way in here. I was looking for whoever did it."
Hubert/Lord Sinister nods. "Ah, it'll be Sophie you need to speak to."
"Sophie?"
"Yes, poor girl. She had an adventure years ago, a big one, but she's got so impatient waiting for another that she's taken to going out and causing mischief for other people. It's more than a spot of bother, but what can you do?"
"Kill her?" I suggest.
"That's one option, but I'd prefer to sit her down and give her a good talking to instead. Anyway, no doubt you'll be wanting to know where she is. See that puzzle in the corner?"
"The one that involves arranging 2,015 blocks of slightly varying colour into the correct order based on size, weight and interior dimensions?"
"That's the one. Solve it and you'll find out where she is."
I look at the puzzle. And frown. "Isn't it a bit of a lame puzzle?"
Hubert/Lord Sinister nods. "'Fraid so. But it's the only way you'll get to deal with Sophie and the consequences of her actions so you'll have to solve it all the same."
. . .
25
Alas, exits seem to be in rather short supply.
. . .
26
Easier said than done. I get 2,014 of the blocks into the correct order based on size, weight and interior dimensions, but I'm damned if I can figure out where the last one goes.
"The last one's always the real stinker," says Hubert/Lord Sinister. "Even this clever chap called Barney who passed through here had a problem with it. Too many choices, I think."
"And not enough decisions."
"Oh yes. And way too few options for my likely."
. . .
27
It's difficult to cheat at this kind of thing, but I manage it somehow.
. . .
28
"My advice?" Hubert/Lord Sinister frowns. "Well, I'm no superhero when it comes to these things, but if I were you, I'd-"
And he proceeds to solve the puzzle for me.
. . .
29
A moment later (what happened between isn't really worth mentioning), I find myself leaving the lair of the vampire and stepping into... a cottage in the English countryside. It looks quite a pleasant little place. If given a second chance at life, I might well choose something like this myself.
A sign on one wall indicates that the owner, Mrs Moog, is currently out but total strangers are advised to open the door and come inside anyway.
. . .
30
Deciding there is no point in ignoring the kind offer on the sign, I open the door - and trigger the bomb rigged up behind it.When the smoke and the flames have disappeared, I find myself lying on the ground, feeling like I've been kicked, hit, punched and beaten to within an inch of my life. But I didn't die at least. I suppose I ought to be grateful for that.
I feel like lying here for a year or so, but know that I can't. I need to get into that cottage and deal with the little terror who tried to bury me alive.
Into the cottage I go.
. . .
31
I ring the bell. At once, the door opens.
Puzzled over this bizarre lapse in security, but nevertheless pleased to have the problem of the closed door solved, I step into the cottage.
. . .
32
A strange thing happens when I try to turn around and walk away: I see the same cottage still before me. I turn away again, and still the cottage is there. Clearly, some kind of powerful magic is at work here. I had best be careful. My very soul, my very mortality, could well be at risk.
. . .
33
"I was bored!" says a petulant voice from ahead. "I mean, ker-rist! How much longer have I got to wait to have another adventure?"
"You think you've got it hard?" says another voice, this old older and more detective-like. "I've been waiting twice as long!"
"You're all better off than me," mutters another voice. "I never even got an adventure. He got bored partway through and didn't bother finishing it-"
I step into a large open room. The three people - a little girl, a grizzled detective, and a teenage boy with a telescope - turn to stare at me.
"What the heck are you doing here?" the little girl - Sophie - screams. "I buried you good 'n' proper! You oughta be dead!"
"Well, I survived," I say. "And you, missy, are in for one damn good telling off."
I half expect the detective and the teenager to try and stop me but they both back off instead.
"Just you and me, Sophie," I say.
She sighs. "Well, I beat that evil chaos lord so I shouldn't have much trouble with you." She rolls her sleeves up and clenches his tiny hands into fists. "Come on then, give us your best shot."
. . .
34
I don't feel at all nervous about the outcome of this fight. She is, after all,a little girl and I am, after all, a fully grown man. I shouldn't have much trouble with her if all she's got to fight with are her fists-
Oh. And the gun.
"What?" she says, as she points said gun at my head. "Did you think I was going to fight fair?"
It's possibly a rhetorical question because before I can answer she pulls the trigger and paints the wall behind me a different shade of red.
. . .
35
"Look," I say, "I'm sure there's no need for violence and if we just-"
A bullet whizzes past my head, missing by 0.5 of a millimetre.
"Aw, you moved!" Sophie protests.
It seems talking to her isn't going to work.
. . .
36
I'm not fighting a little girl, I think. No way. She might be a terror, she might be downright despicable, but that doesn't change the fact that she's still barely nine years old and so-
The bullet hits me square between the eyes.
"Can you believe that?" says Sophie as I collapse dead at her feet. "He just stood there and let me shoot him! What a lamo!"
. . .
37
"Tell you what," I say, "why don't I introduce you to a friend of mine who can write you an adventure a day for your rest of your life?"
Sophie's eyes light up."You mean that? Really?"
I nod. "Of course." I take her hand. "Now, where did Bob get to...?"
Well done, you've finished the game!
Hooray for you, congratulations, good show, etc, etc, etc.
Overall, you got a score of 14 out of a maximum possible 14.
. . .
38
The corridor reaches a dead end at a wall where a rotund fellow with a shock of reddish hair can be seen. He's banging frantically away on a laptop and muttering to himself, bizarre words that probably make little sense.
. . .
39
Heart in mouth (not in the literal sense thankfully), I ascend the steps, trident held out before me. There is a flash of light when I reach the top and I find myself stepping forward into... a bedchamber. On the bed is lying a rather rotund fellow dressed in the traditional garb of the vampire.
. . .
40
The moment I approach the figure, he looks up at me, mutters "damnation! Why can't these malodorous fools realise a genius needs PEACE AND QUIET to work!" and snaps his fingers.
My surroundings change.
I am back in the entrance to the castle again, only this time the corridor exit is gone. In its place is an "OUT OF ORDER" sign.
. . .
41
"The name's Bob," he says, furiously typing away. "You may have heard of me. I'm the best writer of text adventures in the world. Everyone says so."
"Everyone?"
He shrugs. "Everyone, no one. Something like that. But I don't worry about their opinions because, let's face it, anyone who plays Bottom Burps IV and doesn't like it clearly hasn't got a clue what they're talking about it. Say, would you like to appear in my game?"
. . .
42
He appears to be writing a text adventure. "It's called Spot The Train," says the man. "It involves you, an avid train spotter, having to spot no less than 3,60 different makes of train as they pass, in real time, througha train station. Get all 3,60 and you win a prize."
"What kind of prize?"
"Spot The Train 2: This Time With More Trains! Sure to be another winner. Say, would you like to appear in my game?"
. . .
43
Clearly this was the correct decision to make when faced with such a dangerously mad character. I turn and run back to the entrance of the castle again, only this time the corridor exit is gone. In its place is an "OUT OF ORDER" sign.
. . .
44
The vampire awakens at my touch.
"Ah, hello," he says, blinking up at you. "The name's Hubert but I prefer Lord Sinister. What are you doing in my summer retreat?"
"I don't know," I confess. "I woke up in a grave out back, buried alive, and then made my way in here. I was looking for whoever did it."
Hubert/Lord Sinister nods. "Ah, it'll be Sophie you need to speak to."
"Sophie?"
"Yes, poor girl. She had an adventure years ago, a big one, but she's got so impatient waiting for another that she's taken to going out and causing mischief for other people. It's more than a spot of bother, but what can you do?"
"Kill her?" I suggest.
"That's one option, but I'd prefer to sit her down and give her a good talking to instead. Anyway, no doubt you'll be wanting to know where she is. See that puzzle in the corner?"
"The one that involves arranging 2,0115 blocks of slightly varying colour into the correct order based on size, weight and interior dimensions?"
"That's the one. Solve it and you'll find out where she is."
I look at the puzzle. And frown. "Isn't it a bit of a lame puzzle?"
Hubert/Lord Sinister nods. "'Fraid so. But it's the only way you'll get to deal with Sophie and the consequences of her actions so you'll have to solve it all the same."
. . .
45
Alas, exits seem to be in rather short supply.
. . .
46
Easier said than done. I get 2,038 of the blocks into the correct order based on size, weight and interior dimensions, but I'm damned if I can figure out where the last one goes.
"The last one's always the real stinker," says Hubert/Lord Sinister. "Even this clever chap called Barney who passed through here had a problem with it. Too many choices, I think."
"And not enough decisions."
"Oh yes. And way too few options for my likely."
. . .
47
It's difficult to cheat at this kind of thing, but I manage it somehow.
. . .
48
"My advice?" Hubert/Lord Sinister frowns. "Well, I'm no superhero when it comes to these things, but if I were you, I'd-"
And he proceeds to solve the puzzle for me.
. . .
49
A moment later (what happened between isn't really worth mentioning), I find myself leaving the lair of the vampire and stepping into... a cottage in the English countryside. It looks quite a pleasant little place. If given a second chance at life, I might well choose something like this myself.
A sign on one wall indicates that the owner, Mrs Moog, is currently out but total strangers are advised to open the door and come inside anyway.
. . .
50
Deciding there is no point in ignoring the kind offer on the sign, I open the door - and trigger the bomb rigged up behind it.When the smoke and the flames have disappeared, I find myself lying on the ground, feeling like I've been kicked, hit, punched and beaten to within an inch of my life. But I didn't die at least. I suppose I ought to be grateful for that.
I feel like lying here for a year or so, but know that I can't. I need to get into that cottage and deal with the little terror who tried to bury me alive.
Into the cottage I go.
. . .
51
I ring the bell. At once, the door opens.
Puzzled over this bizarre lapse in security, but nevertheless pleased to have the problem of the closed door solved, I step into the cottage.
. . .
52
A strange thing happens when I try to turn around and walk away: I see the same cottage still before me. I turn away again, and still the cottage is there. Clearly, some kind of powerful magic is at work here. I had best be careful. My very soul, my very mortality, could well be at risk.
. . .
53
"I was bored!" says a petulant voice from ahead. "I mean, ker-rist! How much longer have I got to wait to have another adventure?"
"You think you've got it hard?" says another voice, this old older and more detective-like. "I've been waiting twice as long!"
"You're all better off than me," mutters another voice. "I never even got an adventure. He got bored partway through and didn't bother finishing it-"
I step into a large open room. The three people - a little girl, a grizzled detective, and a teenage boy with a telescope - turn to stare at me.
"What the heck are you doing here?" the little girl - Sophie - screams. "I buried you good 'n' proper! You oughta be dead!"
"Well, I survived," I say. "And you, missy, are in for one damn good telling off."
I half expect the detective and the teenager to try and stop me but they both back off instead.
"Just you and me, Sophie," I say.
She sighs. "Well, I beat that evil chaos lord so I shouldn't have much trouble with you." She rolls her sleeves up and clenches his tiny hands into fists. "Come on then, give us your best shot."
. . .
54
I don't feel at all nervous about the outcome of this fight. She is, after all,a little girl and I am, after all, a fully grown man. I shouldn't have much trouble with her if all she's got to fight with are her fists-
Oh. And the gun.
"What?" she says, as she points said gun at my head. "Did you think I was going to fight fair?"
It's possibly a rhetorical question because before I can answer she pulls the trigger and-
And things would doubtless have gone really bad for me then if I didn't have a full suit of armour on me. As it is, the bullet hits my helmet and bounces off.
"Damn!" Sophie cries, stamping her feet in frustration. "That's hardly fair!"
I level the trident at her. "You were saying...?"
. . .
55
"Look," I say, "I'm sure there's no need for violence and if we just-"
A bullet whizzes past my head, missing by 0.5 of a millimetre.
"Aw, you moved!" Sophie protests.
It seems talking to her isn't going to work.
. . .
56
I stab her in the heart and-
And everything stops. Everything. It's like this whole world is actually a computer program that someone has halted.
"Oh dear," says a voice. "That wasn't supposed to happen."
A figure steps into the room. He's tall, gangly, got curly hair and glasses. And he looks a bit miffed.
"In fact, I'm a bit more than miffed, I'm completely blanked off right now," says the figure. "Yes, you heard me. Blanked off. And don't think that just because the automatic censor is changing my blanking words that I'm any less blanked off. Blank! You." He takes a step towards you. "You just stabbed dead a young girl. What have you got to say for yourself?"
"Er... she was nasty," I say, feeling that this response just isn't going to cut it with him.
I'm right.
"You complete blank. In fact, you're worse than a blank. You're a blank. Even a blank! What do you think this is - yet another damn fantasy adventure where you can just go around indiscriminately murdering little girls as you see fit?"
"Oh no," I groan, "not another fantasy adventure."
The figure puts a hand on my shoulder and says, "it's game over for you, pal."
. . .
57
You're dead. Oh dear. I'm guessing that wasn't quite the ending you were hoping for, right? Well, not to worry.
- You can always restart the game if you like.
. . .
58
"I won't kill you," I say. "I'm not that much of a villain. Here." I offer her my hand. "Come on, Sophie, I'm sure if we put our differences aside, we can work things- ow."
"Myself," says Sophie, "I'd have gone for something a bit louder than 'ow' if I'd just had my hand cut off."
I'd nod my head in agreement if not for the fact that I'm currently lying on the floor, bleeding profusely, and it's all I can do to keep from howling.
"Sucker!" Sophie says with a girlish laugh.
. . .
59
Sophie frowns. "I was bored, y'know. I had an adventure, and a really long one, in 563 and I was supposed to have another one in 564 and then another in 565, but they never happened. So I got bored and decided I'd just start burying people alive in order to give me something to do. Sorry," she adds sheepishly.
. . .
60
"Tell you what," I say, "why don't I write an adventure for you?"
Sophie frowns. "Well, it would be nice. But you know what would be even nicer?"
"What?"
There is a sudden pain in my stomach.
"That," says Sophie.
I look down. There seems to be a knife protruding from my guts.
I slip to my knees, feeling my mortality slipping away, and then I'm past concerns about knives and treacherous little girls...
. . .
61
The corridor reaches a dead end at a wall where a rotund fellow with a shock of reddish hair can be seen. He's banging frantically away on a laptop and muttering to himself, bizarre words that probably make little sense.
. . .
62
I fling the door open, wondering what will be behind it, and find myself looking at... a wall. A rather boring and ordinary wall with nothing out of the ordinary about it at all.
Aside from the suit of body armour hanging there, of course. Knowing a good suit of body armour when I encounter it, I quickly slip it on and feel so much more protected than before.
A noise from the steps alerts me and I decide it's high time I found out what was up there.
. . .
63
Heart in mouth (not in the literal sense thankfully), I ascend the steps, trident held out before me. There is a flash of light when I reach the top and I find myself stepping forward into... a bedchamber. On the bed is lying a rather rotund fellow dressed in the traditional garb of the vampire.
. . .
64
The moment I approach the figure, he looks up at me, mutters "damnation! Why can't these malodorous fools realise a genius needs PEACE AND QUIET to work!" and snaps his fingers.
My surroundings change.
I am back in the entrance to the castle again, only this time the corridor exit is gone. In its place is an "OUT OF ORDER" sign.
. . .
65
"The name's Bob," he says, furiously typing away. "You may have heard of me. I'm the best writer of text adventures in the world. Everyone says so."
"Everyone?"
He shrugs. "Everyone, no one. Something like that. But I don't worry about their opinions because, let's face it, anyone who plays Bottom Burps IV and doesn't like it clearly hasn't got a clue what they're talking about it. Say, would you like to appear in my game?"
. . .
66
He appears to be writing a text adventure. "It's called Spot The Train," says the man. "It involves you, an avid train spotter, having to spot no less than 3,60 different makes of train as they pass, in real time, througha train station. Get all 3,60 and you win a prize."
"What kind of prize?"
"Spot The Train 2: This Time With More Trains! Sure to be another winner. Say, would you like to appear in my game?"
. . .
67
Clearly this was the correct decision to make when faced with such a dangerously mad character. I turn and run back to the entrance of the castle again, only this time the corridor exit is gone. In its place is an "OUT OF ORDER" sign.
. . .
68
The vampire awakens at my touch.
"Ah, hello," he says, blinking up at you. "The name's Hubert but I prefer Lord Sinister. What are you doing in my summer retreat?"
"I don't know," I confess. "I woke up in a grave out back, buried alive, and then made my way in here. I was looking for whoever did it."
Hubert/Lord Sinister nods. "Ah, it'll be Sophie you need to speak to."
"Sophie?"
"Yes, poor girl. She had an adventure years ago, a big one, but she's got so impatient waiting for another that she's taken to going out and causing mischief for other people. It's more than a spot of bother, but what can you do?"
"Kill her?" I suggest.
"That's one option, but I'd prefer to sit her down and give her a good talking to instead. Anyway, no doubt you'll be wanting to know where she is. See that puzzle in the corner?"
"The one that involves arranging 2,0115 blocks of slightly varying colour into the correct order based on size, weight and interior dimensions?"
"That's the one. Solve it and you'll find out where she is."
I look at the puzzle. And frown. "Isn't it a bit of a lame puzzle?"
Hubert/Lord Sinister nods. "'Fraid so. But it's the only way you'll get to deal with Sophie and the consequences of her actions so you'll have to solve it all the same."
. . .
69
Alas, exits seem to be in rather short supply.
. . .
70
Easier said than done. I get 2,038 of the blocks into the correct order based on size, weight and interior dimensions, but I'm damned if I can figure out where the last one goes.
"The last one's always the real stinker," says Hubert/Lord Sinister. "Even this clever chap called Barney who passed through here had a problem with it. Too many choices, I think."
"And not enough decisions."
"Oh yes. And way too few options for my likely."
. . .
71
It's difficult to cheat at this kind of thing, but I manage it somehow.
. . .
72
"My advice?" Hubert/Lord Sinister frowns. "Well, I'm no superhero when it comes to these things, but if I were you, I'd-"
And he proceeds to solve the puzzle for me.
. . .
73
A moment later (what happened between isn't really worth mentioning), I find myself leaving the lair of the vampire and stepping into... a cottage in the English countryside. It looks quite a pleasant little place. If given a second chance at life, I might well choose something like this myself.
A sign on one wall indicates that the owner, Mrs Moog, is currently out but total strangers are advised to open the door and come inside anyway.
. . .
74
Deciding there is no point in ignoring the kind offer on the sign, I open the door - and trigger the bomb rigged up behind it.When the smoke and the flames have disappeared, I find myself lying on the ground, feeling like I've been kicked, hit, punched and beaten to within an inch of my life. But I didn't die at least. I suppose I ought to be grateful for that.
I feel like lying here for a year or so, but know that I can't. I need to get into that cottage and deal with the little terror who tried to bury me alive.
Into the cottage I go.
. . .
75
I ring the bell. At once, the door opens.
Puzzled over this bizarre lapse in security, but nevertheless pleased to have the problem of the closed door solved, I step into the cottage.
. . .
76
A strange thing happens when I try to turn around and walk away: I see the same cottage still before me. I turn away again, and still the cottage is there. Clearly, some kind of powerful magic is at work here. I had best be careful. My very soul, my very mortality, could well be at risk.
. . .
77
"I was bored!" says a petulant voice from ahead. "I mean, ker-rist! How much longer have I got to wait to have another adventure?"
"You think you've got it hard?" says another voice, this old older and more detective-like. "I've been waiting twice as long!"
"You're all better off than me," mutters another voice. "I never even got an adventure. He got bored partway through and didn't bother finishing it-"
I step into a large open room. The three people - a little girl, a grizzled detective, and a teenage boy with a telescope - turn to stare at me.
"What the heck are you doing here?" the little girl - Sophie - screams. "I buried you good 'n' proper! You oughta be dead!"
"Well, I survived," I say. "And you, missy, are in for one damn good telling off."
I half expect the detective and the teenager to try and stop me but they both back off instead.
"Just you and me, Sophie," I say.
She sighs. "Well, I beat that evil chaos lord so I shouldn't have much trouble with you." She rolls her sleeves up and clenches his tiny hands into fists. "Come on then, give us your best shot."
. . .
78
I don't feel at all nervous about the outcome of this fight. She is, after all,a little girl and I am, after all, a fully grown man. I shouldn't have much trouble with her if all she's got to fight with are her fists-
Oh. And the gun.
"What?" she says, as she points said gun at my head. "Did you think I was going to fight fair?"
It's possibly a rhetorical question because before I can answer she pulls the trigger and-
And things would doubtless have gone really bad for me then if I didn't have a full suit of armour on me. As it is, the bullet hits my helmet and bounces off.
"Damn!" Sophie cries, stamping her feet in frustration. "That's hardly fair!"
I level the trident at her. "You were saying...?"
. . .
79
"Look," I say, "I'm sure there's no need for violence and if we just-"
A bullet whizzes past my head, missing by 0.5 of a millimetre.
"Aw, you moved!" Sophie protests.
It seems talking to her isn't going to work.
. . .
80
Sophie frowns. "I was bored, y'know. I had an adventure, and a really long one, in 563 and I was supposed to have another one in 564 and then another in 565, but they never happened. So I got bored and decided I'd just start burying people alive in order to give me something to do. Sorry," she adds sheepishly.
