In Search of Velocitas fictus
Jacqueline A. Lott
SpeedIF August 2007 walkthrough
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Saturday, 25 August, 2007

I have already written much. Volumes, in fact, but now that I am here, standing on the brink of discovery - and I truly feel that I am indeed on the cusp - I think it only appropriate that I look back down the path which has brought me to this moment. As I sit here, next to the fantastic glass pyramid of the Cour Napoleon at the Louvre, waiting to rendezvous with Professeur LeFou, I am tingling with anticipation...

...perhaps all hope is not lost for the North American Velocitas fictus. Perhaps.

A pseudo-serious (not really) SpeedIF by Jacqueline A. Lott

Professeur LeFou stated in his e-mail that he would meet you here, near the famous glass pyramid, at about this time. He should be here any moment.

(NOTE: First time players of this game might want to type "about," and if you ever get stuck, you can get a walkthrough by typing "hint." Amusez-vous!)
About you
You're looking your best. In fact, you sort of have that sexy-librarian thing going on that all the IF boys seem to adore.
You look at the tourists
People bustle to and fro, some are professionals, most are tourists, some of them are Americans who stick out like sore thumbs. You try to blend in between some unobnoxious, quiet French people and a potted plant, until you realize that Professeur LeFou might not notice you hiding there.
You examine the plant
It is a very nice potted plant.
Wait
Time passes.
You search the plant
You find nothing of interest.

A tall, thin man with an equally thin moustache separates himself from the crowd. As promised in his e-mail, he is wearing a striped shirt and a black beret, and - to distinguish himself clearly from among the other Frenchmen - he carries a bottle of red wine, some cheese, and a baguette. Just to be truly unique, he also has a croissant. You are fairly certain that this must be Professeur LeFou, when he speaks and removes all doubt...

"You. You must be ze lovely one zat zey 'ave told me about, hm? I 'ave eenjoyed all our correspondence electronique, ma chou." All your bookish sensibility flies out the window, and you manage little more than a school girl giggle in reply.

"Ma cherie, I 'ave somezing pour vous. Let me take you to a secret place, where I can tell you everyzing."

He tosses aside the burden of his food and wine and holds out his hand. Still tittering with girlish laughter and mesmerized by his incredible charm, you take his strong, masculine hand and he leads you into the pyramid, down into the museum, through a series of twisty little passages, all alike, eventually to a darkened hallway where he enters a well-concealed door. Pulling you through the doorway, you have just enough time to figure out that this isn't a research lab it's a... a broom closet?!
You look around
The door slams shut and darkness falls. You can no longer see "Professeur LeFou," but you can smell his cologne and feel his hot breath on your cheek.

"Ma puce, ma petite, 'ow I 'ave burned for zis moment togezer..." You feel his weight press against you, pushing you backward toward the wall, where you clumsily and somewhat painfully fall against what feels like some shelving. You reach out a hand to steady yourself, and your fingers wrap themselves around a fairly heavy object, which you take.
You hit the man with the object
LE SMACK! You nail the amorous Frenchman up the side of the head. He collapses limply to the floor.

"What's that you say, Creepy French Guy? Tastes like defeat? You bet it does."

Odd thing - you could swear that, as he fell, you heard something roll across the floor. You get down on your hands and knees and, after a bit of searching, come up with a tiny flashlight... merci a dieu!
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a flashlight
a heavy object
You examine the flashlight
A tiny flashlight, which must have fallen out of "LeFou's" pocket when he fell to the ground.

The flashlight is currently switched off.
You turn on the flashlight
You switch the flashlight on.

You are in a medium-sized broom closet somewhere in the Musee du Louvre. Well, it reminds you of a broom closet but now that the lights are on you honestly don't see any booms. Or cleaning supplies, for that matter. Just a bunch of junk. and clutter.

You can see the man you mistook for Professeur LeFou here.
You look at man
"Professeur LeFou" lies on the floor, lifeless and growing colder by the second.
You look at the junk
You search through the odds and ends. It seems to be the sort of eclectic stuff you could reasonably find in a broom closet at the Musee du Louvre... there's a magazine on how to tame the fearsome wild mountain goats found in the remote reaches of Southeastern Alaska, and a seemingly ancient manuscript by some guy named Becher about a fifth fiery element called "phlogiston" that makes things burn, and...

Wait, what's this?! A teeny, tiny man. A homunculus, if you will. He seems to be seated at a very small computer. As you stare at him in amazement, the homunculus notices you, "Oh, hello. Gosh, you're not an American, are you? I've been stuffed in this closet forever, but I've been using the time as much as I can to write speed IFs. Want to play some of them>  They're really quite terrible..."

"You... you're a... you're a Velocitas fictus!" you stammer.

"Well, that's my Latin name. And I take it you're a... wait, let me guess... Homo sapien? Do you like IF?"

You can't believe it. You missed your meeting with LeFou, had to fight off that creepy imposter, and you figured your quest had failed. But here he is - a tiny ray of hope in a dingy, grimy broom closet. "How 'bout I buy you some 9-dimensional creme brulee, then we head back to America, little coder?" you ask.

His tiny smile is all the answer you need.
Look around
You are in a medium-sized broom closet somewhere in the Musee du Louvre. Well, it reminds you of a broom closet but now that the lights are on you honestly don't see any booms. Or cleaning supplies, for that matter. Just a bunch of junk. and clutter.

You can see the man you mistook for Professeur LeFou here.