Hunger Daemon
Sean M. Shore
apocalypse Comedy cover art cult flashback horror humor IFComp 2014 IFComp Game IFComp Winner Inform 7 Lovecraftian Miss Congeniality Winner multiple endings NightFloyd transcript parser religion walkthrough Xyzzy Awards 2014
It's not the end of the world, and you're to blame. Better get on that. But man, it sure would be nice to get a bite to eat first.
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...ilyaa nwagl geb tharanak r'luh hafh'drn kadishtu Hastur ftaghu nglui syha'hoth nilgh'ri f'phlegeth s'uhn, uln ooboshu gnaiih ftaghu f'ya bug kadishtu mnahn' shtunggliog shugg y'hah shugg chtenffnyth, nahafh'drn ep sgn'wahl llll navulgtlagln. Naflebunma hai nog uaaah nog naflsyha'h Azathoth nggeb uaaah shogg fm'latgh, ehye cshugg y'hah...

That's your Uncle Stu chanting, getting some occasional vocal backup from the other guys. They've been going on for the better part of two hours now. Prep-work for the big show tonight.
...sgn'wahl vulgtlagln stell'bsnaor syha'h gebyar nilgh'ri orr'e
uaaah uln, throd fm'latghyar vulgtm tharanak kn'a mg uh'e nglui, fm'latgh Cthulhu nglui k'yarnak li'hee mnahn' uh'e chtenff. Athg y'hah lloig ep hlirgh 'fhalma hrii sll'ha, hupadgh wgah'nog shogg orr'e ebunma vulgtm ron, ebunma...

There's really quite a bit of chanting at these things, and it can be a little repetitive. Some themes tend to recur pretty often. A lot of awakening and devouring, for starters.
...wgah'n orr'e uaaah ron hafh'drn mg n'ghft shagg ooboshuog
mnahn' r'luh naorr'e bug li'hee gnaiih Tsathoggua n'gha lw'nafh uh'e, n'ghftoth fm'latgh ckn'a hlirgh mnahn' uh'e ya goka. Li'hee naflshagg stell'bsna ilyaa y'hah, ph'ah li'heenyth f'geb...

The thing of it is, he's drawing out every single goddamned syllable. That "wgah'n" -- that took eleven seconds. If he were just reading it straight, we'd have been out of here in forty-five minutes, and you'd have the rest of your day back. But instead, he's doing all these vibratos and ululations, going over the same phrase over and over. It's enough to drive you insane.
...f'shugg s'uhn y-fhtagn gotha, ngthrod Shub-Niggurath y'hah
hupadgh uln k'yarnak nguaaah lloig gluinyth 'fhalma h'gof'nn ah grah'n ngfhtagn nw, ngshtunggli shugg n'gha ngnog, ngooboshu nastell'bsna naflr'luh s'uhn. F'n'gha naflorr'e ron ngphlegeth h'bug 'fhalma ep li'hee shagg...

There's a pause in the chanting. Suddenly, you hear a baleful gurgling, almost a roar, coming from deep below. It's your stomach. You missed breakfast, and now you're missing lunch, too. Azathoth's ample arse! How long is this ceremony going to take?

You're in the basement of a defunct little bistro in the West 7th neighborhood of Saint Paul. This is where your cult does most of its culting, on account of how your Aunt Sandy doesn't want any sacrifices in the house, and well, fair enough. Uncle Stu owns the building, so you're not squatting or anything, but he's kept the place in a state of perpetual Coming Soonedness, so that you all can do your thing here with no interference.

As I say, defunct bistro, so the restaurant-type stuff you'd
normally find here is mostly gone. In their place there's a group of guys wearing hooded robes, facing an altar at one end of the chamber. Your Uncle Stu has a lectern in front of him, atop which is a decrepit leather-bound book from which he is chanting. There's a wooden stair leading to the pantry above and a winged horror slumped in a folding chair in the corner.
Examine
You're in the basement of a defunct little bistro in the West 7th neighborhood of Saint Paul. The restaurant-type stuff you'd normally find here is mostly gone. In their place there's a group of guys wearing hooded robes, facing an altar at one end of the chamber. Your Uncle Stu has a lectern in front of him, atop which is a decrepit leather-bound book, from which he is chanting. There's a wooden stair leading to the pantry above and a winged horror slumped in a folding chair in the corner.
You examine the horror
It's a creature summoned from beyond the stars, beyond the depths of madness, to serve your uncle. It can scarcely even be described. To truly look upon it, to apprehend its features fully, would fracture one's mind.

That said, it's a tall, lumpy, yellowish humanoid guy with black eyes and some tendrils around the mouth. It's just sitting there on the chair.

...r'luh lw'nafh gnaiih ee ep bug nglui, ilyaa geb lw'nafh...
Examine book
It's the book that got your uncle started many years ago, when he came across it in a dig in Paraguay. It's at least a thousand pages long. A lot of the pages seem to have been inserted after the fact. You haven't spent a lot of time handling it, but when you have, the reddish leather on the cover has flaked off and stuck to your fingers. There's no title on it, and it's written in an ancient language that you still can't read, despite your uncle's best efforts.

You lean over to have a peek at the section that Stu is reading from. Dagon's dingus! He's still on page 13! We're going to be here all day. Maybe you can slip out discreetly and get your lunch from the fridge upstairs.

...ah hriioth vulgtm uln mnahn' shogg n'ghft nglui zhro...
Up
You tiptoe over to the stairs as gingerly as you can. Some of the other cultists give you a look of mild disapproval, leavened with jealousy at your having the courage to slip out first. No one says anything, though, and your uncle continues his chanting.

This is where all the food would be stored, if the bistro were open and functioning. There's a big fridge in the corner and many dusty shelves along the walls. A wooden stair leads down to the basement, and a doorway leads north to the kitchen.

On the dusty shelves are some pizza boxes and some cans of near-food.
You open the fridge
You open the fridge, revealing an unexpectedly empty Ziploc bag. The bag has the word "Barry" written on it with a black Sharpie, for all the good that did you. It used to enclose a sandwich. The sandwich is now presumably enclosed by Walter, who is the only one who's been up here. Where is that clown?
You get the bag
Taken.
You look at the pizza
They're from Papa Dimitri's on Hamline, from yesterday. They still smell faintly of pizza, which isn't helping you curb your hunger right now, even if the pizza wasn't all that great. The boxes are closed.
You open the pizza
Alas, all that remains are some greasy sheets of wax paper.
You examine near
You turn them to read the labels and wipe away some dust. They're food, I guess, but none of them can be eaten individually, or in combination. There's coconut milk, a can of chipotles in adobo, horseradish, a bottle of fish sauce, and sundry other substances which might be described as food-adjacent. None of them will address your hunger.
Go north
You make sure the fridge and freezer doors are shut and then head out.

This is the bistro's cramped kitchen. With your eye for detail, you notice a couple of things subtly out of place. For one thing, Walter is laid out on the floor. Also, the Ark of, um, Whatever, which he was guarding, is open and empty. The oven appears to be intact, for what that's worth, which is probably very little.

The door to the restaurant's office leads west, the pantry is to the south, and the dining room is to the north.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a Ziploc bag (open but empty)
a hooded robe (hood lowered) (being worn)
About yourself
You're Barry, just a regular guy in the service of the Great Old Ones. OK, "in the service of" might be a little strong. You haven't done much serving of late. You only show up for the high holidays and important rituals if you can help it.
You look at Walter
He's a big dude -- a monster, really -- and a friend of your uncle's. He's supposed to be keeping watch. Instead, he's sprawled out on the floor, face down, sleeping peacefully. There's a faint chemical whiff coming off him, as opposed to the usual aquavit. You're not a physician per se -- a second-year vet student, actually -- but as far as you can tell, he's not dying or anything, just knocked out.
You examine Ark
The Ark of Whatever -- Mythos names give you a headache -- is a large, ornate box, covered in raised pictograms in some ancient tongue. It's clearly very old, and somewhat alien-looking, and too big to schlep downstairs. It contains the great Heart of Something or other, the crucial object needed for your uncle's transformation ritual that takes place tomorrow. Or it did: the ark is open and empty.

You run your finger over the raised pictograms, wondering how the hell this could have happened. In order to even open the box, you'd need to have the combination, and press the symbols in the right --. Oh, Jesus. THIS IS YOUR FAULT.

It's a hot, sweaty day at the state fair. You're here along with perhaps a hundred thousand of your fellow Minnesotans, having spent the day gawking at the prize rabbits, admiring the butter sculptures of the dairy princesses, checking out the reliably liberal crop art, and consuming 4000 calories, much of it in the form of soybean oil.

A Month Ago at the State Fair, On Line for Bacon on a Stick
You're at the head of the line at the Fat Bacon stand, ready for your opportunity to give $5 in exchange for a piece of bacon on a stick. This is what your day has been missing.

Some teenagers are manning the booth.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a five-dollar bill
an all-important note that explains how to open the Ark of Gl'thub
You read note
It's the folded-up piece of paper on which is written the exact sequence of pictograms one presses to open the Ark of Gl'thub. It is not the only copy, thankfully.
You buy the bacon
You reach into your pocket, pull out the money, and hand it over to the girl. She hands you your bacon on a stick. It's not all that great. Meanwhile:

the all-important note that explains how to open the Ark of Gl'thub: Dropped.

At least, this is your best guess as to what happened, since the money and the note were in the same pocket. But more to the point, who would even have picked it up, with all the garbage floating around the state fair? Who would have noticed it? There's no way that anyone could make sense of it. It's just scribbles on a piece of paper. No big deal. Stu has another copy, so we're all good.

OK, maybe not. Crap. You need to make this right, like right now. Stu is going to eat you alive if he finds out that the Heart is gone, and that is literally. Oh man, oh man. Where to even start? Jeff! Jeff will know what to do. Better get over to the bookstore pronto, before Stu figures out what's happened.

This is a small professional kitchen. Although the pots and pans and smaller appliances are all gone, the oven is still functional, as long as your uncle keeps paying the gas bill. Also here, not part of the original decor, is the Ark of Whatever.

The door to the restaurant's office leads west, the pantry is to the south, and the dining room is to the north.

Walter is here, unconscious.
You go north
The old bistro had ten tables and seated about forty. The chairs are propped up on the tables upside-down and covered in dust. Large windows look out onto the street, but they're soaped up so that the public can't see all the important renovation work going on in here, which is to say none. The kitchen is to the south, the bathroom is to the west, and you can walk out onto the street to the north.

Hanging from the ceiling is a funky, thrift-store-looking chandelier.
You examine the chandelier
It's been painted white, which transforms it from "schlock" into "shabby chic."

As you look at the chandelier, your eye is drawn to a security camera, facing toward the front door and bathroom. A tiny red light on the camera is illuminated. A wire leads from the camera along the ceiling to the south, towards the kitchen.
Go south
This is a small professional kitchen. Although the pots and pans and smaller appliances are all gone, the oven is still functional, as long as your uncle keeps paying the gas bill. Also here, not part of the original decor, is the Ark of Whatever.

The cable from the security camera runs through here and into a small hole above the office door.

The door to the restaurant's office leads west, the pantry is to the south, and the dining room is to the north.

Walter is here, unconscious.
Go west
(first opening the office door)
(first unlocking the office door)
It's locked, and Uncle Stu presumably has the key that must fit in its oversized keyhole.
Go north
The old bistro had ten tables and seated about forty. The chairs are propped up on the tables upside-down and covered in dust. Large windows look out onto the street, but they're soaped up so that the public can't see all the important renovation work going on in here, which is to say none. The kitchen is to the south, the bathroom is to the west, and you can walk out onto the street to the north.

Hanging from the ceiling is a funky, thrift-store-looking chandelier.

You can see a small security camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling, and a thin black wire running from it.
You go west
With all the guys spending a lot of time in the restaurant, this tends to get used a fair bit. It has the usual accoutrements: toilet, sink, and the like. You can return to the dining room to the east.

There's a frosted window on the west wall, currently wide open.

Strangely, there's a filthy pillow on the floor underneath the window.
You examine the pillow
It's a regular pillow that has had a rough time lately, it seems.
It's yellowed from sweat, has black dirt all over it, and smells of garbage.
You get the pillow
Taken.
You go outside
This damp, quiet alley runs along the west side of the restaurant. It's littered with leaves and paved with gravel. Randolph Avenue is back to the northeast.

A window leads back east into the building. Parked right alongside, in a little spot reserved for employees, is your Saturn.
You go east
With all the guys spending a lot of time in the restaurant, this tends to get used a fair bit. It has the usual accoutrements: toilet, sink, and the like. You can return to the dining room to the east.

There's a frosted window on the west wall, currently wide open.
Flush toilet
You flush the toilet.
You go to the west
You climb out the window.

This damp, quiet alley runs along the west side of the restaurant. It's littered with leaves and paved with gravel. Randolph Avenue is back to the northeast.

A window leads back east into the building. Parked right alongside, in a little spot reserved for employees, is your Saturn.
Examine leaves
It's early autumn. Leaves are everywhere.
You examine the car
It's a 2001 Saturn sedan. The color, as represented to you by the dealership, is "grey bronze." Others with less sophisticated tastes might call it "brown." The paint job is marred by the presence of muddy footprints on the roof. Also, the trunk is open, and you definitely didn't drive here with it like that. Someone must have broken the lock on -- no, wait. There's no sign of forced entry. Whoever it was simply opened the trunk from the inside of the car, which you failed to lock. Awesome.
You look at the trunk
It's larger than it looks from the outside, one of the few aspects of the car that provides a pleasant surprise. It's open.

In the trunk are a flashlight and some Breaking Bad DVDs.

Not inside the trunk is your tire iron. It appears to have been stolen.
You look in the trunk
It's larger than it looks from the outside, one of the few aspects of the car that provides a pleasant surprise. It's open.

In the trunk are a flashlight and some Breaking Bad DVDs.
You get the flashlight
Taken.
You look at the dvds
They're Sam's, not yours, but you're in no mood to return them anytime soon. These are the very cool limited edition set, with the case shaped like a tank of methylamine. Thankfully the thief has left them.
You look in the car
The Saturn is empty.
You enter the car
You close the trunk and hop in.
Go northeast
Randolph Avenue (in the Saturn)
You're on Randolph Avenue, which stretches far to the west toward Highland Park and to the east towards the river. The part we're on here is firmly middle class, maybe on the low side. There are a lot of small close-set houses with minimally-tended lawns, pockmarked by the occasional commercial space, including your restaurant.

Your cult's shop, Unspeakable Books and Gifts, is located a few miles to the west. Jeff should be there; you should head over, ASAP. Carver's Cave is to the northeast. That's where you guys originally obtained the Heart, and is probably worth checking out. There's also an alleyway to the southwest. The dining room is to the south.
You look at the houses
Most of them are one-and-a-half stories, built in the 1950s, with the sharply-slanted roofs that are necessary in Minnesota. Some are better-maintained than others, but none will be appearing in Architectural Digest anytime soon.
You get the houses
In 2009, perhaps. Housing prices have rebounded, though, and you couldn't afford them all.
You go west
You drive off towards Highland Park for a couple of miles. You arrive at your destination a few minutes later.

Cleveland Avenue (in the Saturn)
You're on Cleveland Avenue outside a magic shop affiliated with your cult, wedged between an insurance agent and a Subway. A faded sign above the nondescript entrance to the north reads "Unspeakable Books and Gifts." A placard indicates that the shop is closed, but you can see that the lights are on. The bistro and Randolph Avenue are back to the east.

Standing out front is a sandwich board advertising an improbable and already completed Back to School sale. Or I should say, "B4ck to Scho l."

A mostly-deflated red balloon hangs limply from the sandwich board.
Leave
You get out of the Saturn. (Incidentally, you don't need to worry about closing or locking or unlocking the car. Just enter and exit. The locking and unlocking will be assumed. No one else will mess with your car, I promise).
You examine it
It's a plain red balloon. It's currently deflated.
You go north
You find the shop unlocked, strangely enough.

This is the front room of Unspeakable Books and Gifts. It's a "magic" shop for the pinks, the rubes who spell magick with a k. They come here to buy healing crystals and novelty Buffy-themed Tarot decks and books about UFOs and accessing their past lives. There's a long display case filled with various mystical knickknacks. There's also a large bookshelf crammed with hokey New Age titles. You can exit back onto the street to the south.
Inflate balloon
You inflate the balloon, carefully holding it closed with your fingers when you're done.
You squeeze the balloon
You squeeze the inflated balloon, and the air rushes out of it. It would probably be more fun to inflate it and simply let it go.
You look at the knickknacks
Pendants, crystals, amulets, "healing" magnets, and all manner of other crap. High profit margins, you're told.

Lying on the ground behind the display case, bathed in a strange yellow light, is your friend Jeff. He's apparently frozen in place. You half-expect him to suddenly spring to life like one of those annoying street performers, but it doesn't look like that will happen. Frozen Jeff is holding a partially open box, emerging from which is an enormous, otherworldly, terrifying-looking beetle, also motionless. Next to the two of them is a small ceramic oval. It seems to be the source of the strange yellow light, which also envelops an old computer monitor that's stashed back here for some reason. I have to say, this doesn't make for a welcoming retail environment.
You look at the monitor
It's an old, clunky, heavy tube-based piece of crap. It's bathed in the same yellow light as Jeff and the beetle.
You look at the beetle
It is huge, terrifying and probably deadly, covered in eyes and sporting oversized vicious mandibles. The box in which it was stored reads "Qua'ox" in tiny copper letters.
You look at the oval
It's a smooth little oval-shaped object, about the size of an ice cream sandwich. The terra cotta color suggests that it's ceramic, and therefore maybe fragile. There's a single rune on it, which might mean something if you had ever paid attention in Sunday school, but well, that could never happen. But you don't need a degree from Mythos Divinity School to realize that this thing is generating some kind of stasis field in which Jeff and the beetle are trapped.
You get the beetle
Looking at the beetle is as much as you want to do. In fact, you don't even want to do that.
Break oval
You smash the oval, and the yellow field dissolves. Jeff seems dazed for a moment as the magic releases him. The beetle, however, recovers very quickly. It senses your presence, and begins to leap towards your face!
You jump
You jump on the spot, fruitlessly. And also pizzalessly. Christ, you're hungry.

You throw your hands up to protect yourself, but it's no use. The beetle bears down on you, tearing at your face with its mandibles, until it reaches bone. And then it keeps going.
Duck
The beetle adjusts course to match.

You throw your hands up to protect yourself, but it's no use. The beetle bears down on you, tearing at your face with its mandibles, until it reaches bone. And then it keeps going.
You drop the balloon
You let go of the inflated balloon. It shoots wildly around the room as it deflates. The beetle's instincts kick in. It launches itself at the balloon, following it until it crashes into the bookshelf and lands on the floor. The beetle watches with interest, then returns its attention to you.

You throw your hands up to protect yourself, but it's no use. The beetle bears down on you, tearing at your face with its mandibles, until it reaches bone. And then it keeps going.
You look at your surroundings
This is the front room of Unspeakable Books and Gifts. It's a "magic" shop for the pinks, the rubes who spell magick with a k. They come here to buy healing crystals and novelty Buffy-themed Tarot decks and books about UFOs and accessing their past lives. There's a long display case filled with various mystical knickknacks. There's also a large bookshelf crammed with hokey New Age titles. You can exit back onto the street to the south.

Behind the counter, you can see Jeff and a nasty-looking beetle, motionless, bathed in a strange yellow light. A small terra cotta oval seems to be generating the light, which also encompasses a clunky old computer monitor.
Go downwards
(first opening the large bookshelf)
As you reach to open the large bookshelf, you lose your grip on the balloon, which shoots around wildly for a moment before dropping to the ground.
Go downward
(first opening the large bookshelf)

If there's a customer who really knows what he's talking about, Jeff brings him down here. He's got the place pimped out mad-scientist style, with beakers and tubes and the like. There's also a carved wooden bookshelf stuffed to capacity with tomes, grimoires, librams, and even the occasional "book." Stairs lead back up to the shop.

Sitting among the beakers and tubes is a latex glove.

On one end of the room, there's a shrine to the Chairman of the Board, the Big C himself, in all his tentacled glory.
You look at the shrine
It's a small-scale statuette of Great Cthulhu, waving his tentacles around in a threatening manner, with little people trampled under his feet. It's pretty sweet, even to a cafeteria cultist like yourself.
You examine the bookshelf
(the carved wooden bookshelf)
It's a heavy wooden bookshelf, with a lot of grotesque flourishes carved in, groaning under the weight of the volumes it contains.
Examine tubes
Typical Dr. Frankenstein or Herbert West stuff: bubbling flasks, wires, jars of strange fluids, and powders. You've got some lab experience, but you don't know what any of this stuff does. That's Jeff's department.
Look around
If there's a customer who really knows what he's talking about, Jeff brings him down here. He's got the place pimped out mad-scientist style, with beakers and tubes and the like. There's also a carved wooden bookshelf stuffed to capacity with tomes, grimoires, librams, and even the occasional "book." Stairs lead back up to the shop.

On one end of the room, there's a shrine to the Chairman of the Board, the Big C himself, in all his tentacled glory.
Up
This is the front room of Unspeakable Books and Gifts. It's a "magic" shop for the pinks, the rubes who spell magick with a k. They come here to buy healing crystals and novelty Buffy-themed Tarot decks and books about UFOs and accessing their past lives. There's a long display case filled with various mystical knickknacks. There's also a large bookshelf crammed with hokey New Age titles. You can exit back onto the street to the south.

Behind the counter, you can see Jeff and a nasty-looking beetle, motionless, bathed in a strange yellow light. A small terra cotta oval seems to be generating the light, which also encompasses a clunky old computer monitor.

You can also see a balloon here.
You get the monitor
You reach for the monitor, but receive a mild electric shock when you come in contact with the yellow light.
You read the monitor
It's an old, clunky, heavy tube-based piece of crap. It's bathed in the same yellow light as Jeff and the beetle.
You drop the balloon
You let go of the inflated balloon. It shoots wildly around the room as it deflates. The beetle's instincts kick in. It launches itself at the balloon, following it through the open bookcase and down the stairs!
Close bookcase
You push on the bookcase and the door clicks shut.
You examine jeff
Jeff's a fellow cultist, mid 40s, has an age-inappropriate hipster handlebar mustache. He's a bit more religious than you are, but this mostly takes the form of wanting to melt things and summoning creatures from the Outer Realms to help him move furniture into a new apartment. He's OK.

Jeff appears from behind the counter, rubbing his eyes. "Man, am I glad to see you," he says, as he surveys the scene. He holds out a fist expectantly. "Iä, dude! Great work!"
Fistbump jeff
You bump Jeff's fist, giving him an Iä in return.

(You could ask him about how he ended up in stasis or the beetle.)
You ask Jeff about the beetle
You ask Jeff about the beetle, and explain about its current location.

"Oh, man, that sucked pretty bad. Thanks again. I had the box up here because I was gonna mail-order it out to some brothers in Eau Claire. Nice work, dude. I can wrangle it with this," he says, producing a small whistle from his pocket. He puts it to his lips, and carefully opens the secret door once again. The beetle, apparently waiting right behind it, leaps out right at Jeff's face.
He blows the whistle. You hear nothing, but the beetle drops to the ground, legs up, motionless. Jeff scoops it up and puts it in an unbroken box. "Alright, we got that taken care of."

You could ask him about how he ended up in stasis.
You ask Jeff about the stasis
"I'm a dumbass, basically," says Jeff. "This girl comes in. I've never seen her before, so I figure she's a pink who's here to realign her aura or something. But she starts talking about Carver's Cave with some authority, so I'm wondering if maybe she's on the team but just from out of town. Then she produces the piece of paper you lost with the code to open the Ark of Gl'thub and asks for help in translating the symbols. And I'm like, dude. This can't be
right. So I tell her to hold on for a sec while I get something. I'm going to sic the Qua'ox on her, but she's too fast, and pushes me down. Next thing I know, she produces a Gothaullog stone and I'm frozen."

You could ask him about the young woman or the small oval.
You talk Heart of something
You mention to Jeff that you are pretty sure that his young woman snuck into the bistro, knocked out Walter, and made off with the Heart of Something.

"Holy crap!" he says. "She has the Heart of Unktahe? Does anyone else know?" You reply in the negative. "Alright, man, we've got to get that thing back, like, ASAP. Otherwise, we're both gonna end up on the slab. I've got a spell we can use to try to track her down. We'll need two things: some personal object of hers, and an image of some sort. See if you can get that stuff and bring it to me. I'll make preparations here."

You could ask him about Carver's Cave, the spell or Uncle Stu.
Go downward
(first opening the large bookshelf)

If there's a customer who really knows what he's talking about, Jeff brings him down here. He's got the place pimped out mad-scientist style, with beakers and tubes and the like. There's also a carved wooden bookshelf stuffed to capacity with tomes, grimoires, librams, and even the occasional "book." Stairs lead back up to the shop.

On one end of the room, there's a shrine to the Chairman of the Board, the Big C himself, in all his tentacled glory.
You look at the librams
There are hundreds of books here on all manner of occult topics. Only a few have titles on the spines. Most are bound in some sort of leather, the source of which you don't want to know. Others have ostentatious locks or other hardware to impress upon the reader how badass they (and by extension you) are. Naturally, old warhorses like the Necronomicon are represented, along with some rarer
stuff. You could CONSULT TOMES ABOUT something.
You consult the tomes about Heart
You flip through the tomes and eventually find reference to Unktahe. It is the great serpent-like creature revered in antiquity by local Native American groups as the Great Spirit of the Mississippi River. There are details here for summoning it -- yeah, yeah, been there, killed that -- and then a brief discussion of the properties of the creature. Its blood is highly acidic, burning through metal, wood and flesh with equal rapidity. The heart of Unktahe is a source of great power for anyone who might consume it. After the appropriate super-long and tedious ritual, one can eat it and assume the status of Vessel of the Old Ones. Which would be happening right now, if you weren't such a crap cultist.
You consult the tomes about Stu
The tomes wouldn't have anything on anyone currently alive. If there's anything Mythosy you want to look up, though, they might have something.
You consult the tomes about the beetle
You search the tomes, hoping that you can find something useful about this creature. Ah, here: it's Van der Wurff's Compendium of Otherworldly Fauna. And it's written in Yuggothic. Awesome. You had to learn that for your binding (essentially your cult mitzvah), but you've read approximately zero Yuggothic since then. Pressing on, you flip around the book until you find a picture of what you're looking for, then translate, painfully: "The Qua'ox is a beetle-like creature from..." blah blah blah, yeah, yeah, how do we defeat it? Oh, there we go: "The Qua'ox, like many predators, is particularly drawn by rapid, irregular movement, like that of potential prey. It is also attracted by the color red."
You consult the tomes about the azathoth
The books tell you what you remember from Sunday school: Azathoth is a blind idiot god at the center of the universe. Seems like the sort of thing you'd want to worship.
You consult the tomes about the oval
The Joy of Culting explains that it's a special stone used to immobilize things or people. Once activated, you need only break it to dispel the effect.
You consult the tomes about cave
Carver's Cave, as you already know, is a natural fissure underneath Saint Paul. The Lakota call it Wakan Tipi, or the House of
the Great Spirit. It's the Heart of the Great Spirit, Unktahe, which was stolen from the Ark.
You consult the tomes about Ark
You already know about the Ark of Gl'thub, but consult the books anyway. The Ark, you read, is a sort of mystical puzzle-box, useful as a vault or container for objects of great value, especially those that aren't exactly shelf-stable. To open the Ark, one must press the raised symbols on its surface in a very specific order, corresponding to the procession of the stars on the old Kadathian calendar. In theory, one must be well versed in Mythos cosmology to comprehend this sequence, but in practice, you really just need to visit the Minnesota State Fair at the right time and wait for a dumbass to drop the code. It doesn't actually say that last part.
You consult the tomes about the hastur
Like Candyman: you're not supposed to say the name, but you've done it plenty of times in the past. I don't think he cares.
You consult the tomes about the arkham
The Mecca of the Mythos; also home to a famous asylum for supervillains. Your group did a retreat there a couple of years ago. You went mainly for the clambake, and to meet cult women from around the world. "Crazy in the head, crazy in the bed" is the saying, but in practice it turns out to be "Crazy in the head, really violent and dangerous." From now on you're going to stick with normals.
Up
This is the front room of Unspeakable Books and Gifts. It's a "magic" shop for the pinks, the rubes who spell magick with a k. They come here to buy healing crystals and novelty Buffy-themed Tarot decks and books about UFOs and accessing their past lives. There's a long display case filled with various mystical knickknacks. There's also a large bookshelf crammed with hokey New Age titles. You can exit back onto the street to the south.

You can see a clunky old computer monitor and Jeff here.
You ask Jeff about the monitor
"Oh yeah," he says. "That's from the bistro. It was busted, so I tried fixing it. I think it's working now. You could bring it over if you're heading that way."
You go to the south
You're on Cleveland Avenue outside a magic shop affiliated with your cult, wedged between an insurance agent and a Subway. A faded sign above the nondescript entrance to the north reads "Unspeakable Books and Gifts." A placard indicates that the shop is closed, but you can see that the lights are on. The bistro and Randolph Avenue are back to the east.

Your Saturn is parked here.

Standing out front is a sandwich board advertising an improbable and already completed Back to School sale. Or I should say, "B4ck to Scho l."
Go east
You think about hoofing it all the way to Randolph Avenue, but realize that it will take too much time. You'd better drive there.
Enter
This is the front room of Unspeakable Books and Gifts. It's a "magic" shop for the pinks, the rubes who spell magick with a k. They come here to buy healing crystals and novelty Buffy-themed Tarot decks and books about UFOs and accessing their past lives. There's a long display case filled with various mystical knickknacks. There's also a large bookshelf crammed with hokey New Age titles. You can exit back onto the street to the south.

You can see Jeff here.
You enter the car
You get into the Saturn.
Go east
Randolph Avenue (in the Saturn)
You're on Randolph Avenue, which stretches far to the west toward Highland Park and to the east towards the river. The part we're on here is firmly middle class, maybe on the low side. There are a lot of small close-set houses with minimally-tended lawns, pockmarked by the occasional commercial space, including your restaurant.

Your cult's shop, Unspeakable Books and Gifts, is located a few miles to the west. Carver's Cave is to the northeast. That's where you guys originally obtained the Heart, and is probably worth checking out. There's also an alleyway to the southwest. The dining room is to the south.
You go to the northeast
You take West 7th into downtown, and from there, follow Mounds Boulevard along the river until you reach the edges of Indian Mounds Park.

Mounds Boulevard (in the Saturn)
You're on Mounds Boulevard at Cherry Street, a little east of downtown. "Mounds," because some Native American burial mounds are just down the road. It's a pretty nice fall tableau here: lots of colorful leaves, the Mississippi River below, acorns everywhere. You hate to think that whatever Stu has planned is going to ruin this.
The super-secret entrance to Carver's Cave is down the bluff towards the river, and Randolph Avenue is southwest.
You look at the leaves
When the leaves change here, it's really quite nice, but it's a very short window. When they're gone, the Cities are gray, brown and white until mid-April at least.
Go outside
You get out of the Saturn.
Go downwards
Making sure that no one is watching, you hop the railing and scramble down the bluff side as carefully as you can.

Super-Secret Entrance to Carver's Cave
You're much of the way down the bluff here. The mouth of Carver's Cave has long since been barricaded and then covered naturally with rocks and sediment, but your cult, like Gollum, knows the secret ways. Only the followers of the Old Ones can penetrate the mysteries of -- well, goddammit. The shrub that normally covers up the secret entrance is gone. Wait, not gone: crushed. A jagged boulder is in its place. There's only a narrow crack leading into the bluff side now. You can also head further up and down the bluff.
You examine the boulder
It's a fairly large hunk of sandstone that looks like it tumbled down the bluff and landed here on top of the unfortunate shrub. Instead of the shrub concealing the entrance, now you have the boulder mostly blocking it. If you had to guess, you'd say Walter's assailant probably had something to do with this.
You go inside
You try wedging yourself into the crack. You suck in your chest, twist your torso, turn your head, but it's no good. You rub up against the sides of the boulder and the rock wall, and can make no progress. Damn you, friction!
Go down
You're at the bottom of the bluff now, with the river directly before you. Protruding from the bluff is a small pipe. A stream of water emerges and drips into the river.

The entrance to the cave is above you.
You look at the pipe
Small is a relative term, I guess. But you couldn't fit in it, let's put it that way. Water trickles out of it into the river.
Drink water
Yeesh. Not unless you were dying of thirst.
You examine the water
A steady but unspectacular stream of water emerges from the pipe and drains into the river. It's probably outflow from the cave.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a clunky old computer monitor
a latex glove
some Breaking Bad DVDs
a flashlight
a filthy pillow
a Ziploc bag (open but empty)
a hooded robe (hood lowered) (being worn)
You raise the hood
You lift your hood, covering your features and making you look quite sinister.
Lower hood
You lower the hood, revealing your features once more.
You look in the pipe
The small pipe is empty.
You examine River
The banks -- at least those parts that are not given over to docks -- are lined with trees in the process of losing their leaves. Up here, the river is not nearly so impressively wide as it is in, say, St. Louis. On the other hand, it is cleaner. Well, cleanish.
Up
Super-Secret Entrance to Carver's Cave
You're much of the way down the bluff here. The shrub that normally covers up the secret entrance is gone. A jagged boulder is in its place. There's only a narrow crack leading into the bluff side now. You can also head further up and down the bluff.
You go north
You try wedging yourself into the crack. You suck in your chest, twist your torso, turn your head, but it's no good. You rub up against the sides of the boulder and the rock wall, and can make no progress. Damn you, friction!
You go to the kitchen
You head on over, leaving your car parked on Randolph Ave.

This is a small professional kitchen. Although the pots and pans and smaller appliances are all gone, the oven is still functional, as long as your uncle keeps paying the gas bill. Also here, not part of the original decor, is the Ark of Whatever.

The door to the restaurant's office leads west, the pantry is to the south, and the dining room is to the north.

The cable from the security camera runs through here and into a small hole above the office door.

Walter is here, unconscious.
You look at the oven
It's a nice brushed-metal model and has been kept tidy.
You open the oven
You open the oven. Perhaps there's a turkey roasting inside? That would be very helpful right now. Yeah, not so much. It's scrubbed clean and empty.
You go to the south
This is where all the food would be stored, if the bistro were open and functioning. There's a big fridge in the corner and many dusty shelves along the walls. A wooden stair leads down to the basement, and a doorway leads north to the kitchen.

On the dusty shelves are some pizza boxes (in which are some greasy sheets of wax paper) and some cans of near-food.
You get the wax paper
You take the sheets of wax paper. They're still quite slick and slippery.
You go north
This is a small professional kitchen. Although the pots and pans and smaller appliances are all gone, the oven is still functional, as long as your uncle keeps paying the gas bill. Also here, not part of the original decor, is the Ark of Whatever.

The door to the restaurant's office leads west, the pantry is to the south, and the dining room is to the north.

The cable from the security camera runs through here and into a small hole above the office door.

Walter is here, unconscious.
Go north
The old bistro had ten tables and seated about forty. The chairs are propped up on the tables upside-down and covered in dust. Large windows look out onto the street, but they're soaped up so that the public can't see all the important renovation work going on in here, which is to say none. The kitchen is to the south, the bathroom is to the west, and you can walk out onto the street to the north.

Hanging from the ceiling is a funky, thrift-store-looking chandelier.

You can see a small security camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling, and a thin black wire running from it.
You go to Mounds
You head on over, leaving your car parked on Mounds Boulevard.

You're on Mounds Boulevard at Cherry Street, a little east of downtown. "Mounds," because some Native American burial mounds are just down the road. It's a pretty nice fall tableau here: lots of colorful leaves, the Mississippi River below, acorns everywhere. You hate to think that whatever Stu has planned is going to ruin this.
The super-secret entrance to Carver's Cave is down the bluff towards the river, and Randolph Avenue is southwest.

Your Saturn is parked here.
You go downwards
Making sure that no one is watching, you hop the railing and scramble down the bluff side as carefully as you can.

Super-Secret Entrance to Carver's Cave
You're much of the way down the bluff here. The shrub that normally covers up the secret entrance is gone. A jagged boulder is in its place. There's only a narrow crack leading into the bluff side now. You can also head further up and down the bluff.
You remove the robe
You take off the hooded robe.
You rub  the wax paper on yourself
Wincing a little at the inherent grossness of this activity, you rub the greasy wax paper on your skin. You now smell vaguely like an old pizza, and you are noticeably oranger. On the plus side, you should have an easier time sliding through that narrow crevice.
Go inside
The grease from the pizza is just enough to enable you to contort your way in.

It is pitch dark, and you can't see a thing.
Inventory
You are carrying:
some greasy sheets of wax paper
a clunky old computer monitor
a latex glove
some Breaking Bad DVDs
a flashlight
a filthy pillow
a Ziploc bag (open but empty)
a hooded robe

And you're all greased up.
You turn on the flashlight
You crank up the flashlight a little, and then switch it on.

You're in Carver's Cave, a small natural fissure underneath Saint Paul. The Lakota called this place Wakan Tipi, the House of
the Great Spirit. It used to be accessible, a tourist attraction even. Every so often, the entrance would be lost in a rockslide, and the city would open it back up again, until finally they chose to block it off entirely.

There's a beach of sorts, and beyond that, a calm, dark pool extending into the blackness. Water laps gently near your feet, and there's an audible trickle from somewhere deep in the darkness. It's otherwise deathly quiet, and very chilly. You can leave to the south.

Lying on the beach is the hacked-up corpse of a giant serpent, marinating in a puddle of purplish blood.
You examine the corpse
It's the body of the Great Spirit, or one such Great Spirit, that your uncle summoned in order to kill and cut out its heart. That was another super-boring hours-long ceremony, but got pretty good at the end when it turned into some hardcore LARPing. Your buddy Jake got in the final blow with a replica Glamdring from the SkyMall catalog. The bad news is that the serpent's blood burned right through the sword. Anyway, your uncle then cut out the still-beating heart and put it in the Ark, where you assumed it was safe and secure, which it was, before your dumb ass got involved.

The serpent's purplish blood is pooled in and around the corpse.
You get the blood
You try to scoop up some of the blood with your bare hands, but the acidic goo burns you, and you abandon the attempt.
Inventory
You are carrying:
some greasy sheets of wax paper
a clunky old computer monitor
a latex glove
some Breaking Bad DVDs
a flashlight (providing light)
a filthy pillow
a Ziploc bag (open but empty)
a hooded robe

And you're all greased up.
You put the blood in the bag
(first taking the puddle of purplish blood)

You try to scoop up some of the blood with your bare hands, but the acidic goo burns you, and you abandon the attempt.
Wear glove
You put on the latex glove.
You get the blood
With your gloved hand, you carefully scoop some ichor into the Ziploc bag.
You look at the water
Calm, but not entirely still. There's a definite current flowing towards the south. The cave presumably drains in that direction.

A wrapper from a Baby Ruth bar floating just below the surface of the pool emerges from the darkness to the north, at the back of the cave. The current carries it to the south and out of view. Oh man, a Baby Ruth would be awesome right now.
Go south
You once again try to twist your way through the gap. As you contort yourself in, though, you notice that the Ziploc bag of ichor is caught on a particularly sharp edge of the rock. If you go any further, the bag will almost certainly tear in catastrophic fashion.
You put the bag in the water
You place the bag in the frigid water. It seems to be neutrally-buoyant, suspended a few inches under the surface. The current catches it, and it begins to drift towards the south wall of the cave.
You go south
With the pizza grease slathered on, and some creative shoulder movements and breathing, you manage to push your way through the crevice.

Super-Secret Entrance to Carver's Cave
You're much of the way down the bluff here. The shrub that normally covers up the secret entrance is gone. A jagged boulder is in its place. There's only a narrow crack leading into the bluff side now. You can also head further up and down the bluff.
Go down
You're at the bottom of the bluff now, with the river directly before you. Protruding from the bluff is a small pipe. A stream of water emerges and drips into the river.

The entrance to the cave is above you.

Deposited here underneath the pipe is that Baby Ruth wrapper you saw earlier.
You look in the pipe
The Ziploc bag has washed down here and clings to a rusty burr on the inside of the pipe.
You get the bag
As you grasp the open bag, you realize that it is now empty, or emptyish; there's a thin film of purple goo still clinging to the interior, but that's about it. Apparently the ichor is water-soluble.
Go upwards
Super-Secret Entrance to Carver's Cave
You're much of the way down the bluff here. The shrub that normally covers up the secret entrance is gone. A jagged boulder is in its place. There's only a narrow crack leading into the bluff side now. You can also head further up and down the bluff.
Enter
The grease from the pizza is just enough to enable you to contort your way in.

You're in Carver's Cave, a small natural fissure underneath Saint Paul. There's a beach of sorts, and beyond that, a calm, dark pool extending into the blackness. Water laps gently near your feet, and there's an audible trickle from somewhere deep in the darkness. It's otherwise deathly quiet, and very chilly. You can leave to the south.

Lying on the beach is the hacked-up corpse of a giant serpent, marinating in a puddle of purplish blood.
You get the ichor
With your gloved hand, you carefully scoop some ichor into the Ziploc bag.
Close bag
You close the Ziploc bag.
You put the bag in the water
You place the bag in the frigid water. It seems to be neutrally-buoyant, suspended a few inches under the surface. The current catches it, and it begins to drift towards the south wall of the cave.
You go south
With the pizza grease slathered on, and some creative shoulder movements and breathing, you manage to push your way through the crevice.

Super-Secret Entrance to Carver's Cave
You're much of the way down the bluff here. The shrub that normally covers up the secret entrance is gone. A jagged boulder is in its place. There's only a narrow crack leading into the bluff side now. You can also head further up and down the bluff.
Go down
You're at the bottom of the bluff now, with the river directly before you. Protruding from the bluff is a small pipe. A stream of water emerges and drips into the river.

The entrance to the cave is above you.
You get the bag
As you grasp the bag, it snags ever-so-slightly on a jagged edge of the pipe, but comes loose. There's now a tiny tear in the corner. It's not enough to cause any serious leakage, but you'll have to be careful. If you were to squeeze the bag, the blood would extrude, like frosting from a pastry bag.
Examine wrapper
Probably your favorite candy bar, but you rarely ever eat one.
You eat the wrapper
Desperate for empty calories, you start to eat the wrapper, praying to Great Nyarlathotep that some speck of caramel remains. Then you recall that the wrapper came here by way of a sewer. You put the wrapper down.
You get the wrapper
You already have that.
You go to the kitchen
You head on over, leaving your car parked on Randolph Ave.

This is a small professional kitchen. Although the pots and pans and smaller appliances are all gone, the oven is still functional, as long as your uncle keeps paying the gas bill. Also here, not part of the original decor, is the Ark of Whatever.

The door to the restaurant's office leads west, the pantry is to the south, and the dining room is to the north.

The cable from the security camera runs through here and into a small hole above the office door.

Walter is here, unconscious.
You put the ichor in the door
(the office door)
The Ziploc bag isn't open.
You squeeze the bag
You squeeze the bag, and some acidic goo extrudes from the torn tip, rather like a pastry bag. A tiny bit drips at your feet and sizzles. You probably want to make sure you're putting the goo somewhere useful.
You put bag in the lock
You manage to put the corner of the Ziploc bag into the keyhole. It's in fairly deep.
You squeeze the bag
You inject some of the purple goo directly into the office door lock. Immediately, an acrid smoke begins to waft from the door. You can hear the lock mechanism sizzling as it corrodes. When you withdraw
You squeeze the ichor on the lock
the bag, there's a jagged hole where the lock used to be. The bag itself becomes snagged in the molten metal and rips apart, so you throw it away.

You can't see any such thing.
Go west
(first opening the office door)

This is one of those miserable windowless back rooms you find in a restaurant or retail shop. You can imagine the kind of boss who might lair here. He's got a mustache, maybe a hairpiece too, and wears a wide, earth-toned tie. He smokes, probably cheap cigars. He's loud and abusive to his employees. As the place is not in use, he's not actually here, but his presence lingers nonetheless.

The office door leads back out east into the kitchen.

Sitting on a desk is a small, boxy security system. It seems to be lacking a monitor; in its place is a post-it note. A thin wire leads out of it and up through a hole near the ceiling. There's also a printer attached.
You examine the note
It reads: "Fixing the monitor. Sorry! -- Jeff".
You put the monitor on the system
You hook up the monitor to the security system and power it on.
You look at monitor
The system is composed of a central unit, probably some sort of internal storage for the feed. There are also several controls, the most interesting of which are the rewind button and the print button. There's also an ancient printer attached. The display is small and not exactly crisp. It's currently showing the empty and static dining room.
You get the image
Taken.

The charge on the flashlight gives out.
You put the dvds in the computer
You pop a disc into the security system at random. "Yeah, bitch! Magnets!" enthuses Jesse.

Oh wait, this thing has no input for a DVD. And it was manufactured in like 1985. Forget that happened.
You put the dvds in computer
You pop a disc into the security system at random. You laugh as Huell and Kuby lie down on an enormous pile of money.

Oh wait, this thing has no input for a DVD. And it was manufactured in like 1985. Forget that happened.
Look around
This is one of those miserable windowless back rooms you find in a restaurant or retail shop. You can imagine the kind of boss who might lair here. He's got a mustache, maybe a hairpiece too, and wears a wide, earth-toned tie. He smokes, probably cheap cigars. He's loud and abusive to his employees. As the place is not in use, he's not actually here, but his presence lingers nonetheless.

The office door leads back out east into the kitchen.

Sitting on a desk is a small, boxy security system. It displays the dining room in blurry black and white. A thin wire leads out of it and up through a hole near the ceiling. There's also a printer attached.
Go east
This is a small professional kitchen. Although the pots and pans and smaller appliances are all gone, the oven is still functional, as long as your uncle keeps paying the gas bill. Also here, not part of the original decor, is the Ark of Whatever.

The door to the restaurant's office leads west, the pantry is to the south, and the dining room is to the north.

The cable from the security camera runs through here and into a small hole above the office door.

Walter is here, unconscious.
Go north
The old bistro had ten tables and seated about forty. The chairs are propped up on the tables upside-down and covered in dust. Large windows look out onto the street, but they're soaped up so that the public can't see all the important renovation work going on in here, which is to say none. The kitchen is to the south, the bathroom is to the west, and you can walk out onto the street to the north.

Hanging from the ceiling is a funky, thrift-store-looking chandelier.

You can see a small security camera mounted in the corner of the ceiling, and a thin black wire running from it.
Go north
You're on Randolph Avenue, which stretches far to the west toward Highland Park and to the east towards the river. Your cult's bookstore is located a few miles to the west, Carver's Cave is to the northeast, and there's an alleyway to the southwest.

Sam's place is to the north, and the dining room is south.

Your Saturn is parked here.
You enter Saturn
You get into the Saturn.
You go north
Hague Avenue (in the Saturn)
You're outside your ex-girlfriend's place. She lives on a quiet, leafy side street, in a ground-floor apartment. You haven't been here or talked to her since the breakup a few weeks ago. You can head back to the bistro to the south, or the bookshop to the southwest.

To the north is Sam's front door. There's a prominent doorbell next to it.
You ring doorbell
You ring the bell. You hear footsteps, and then she appears at the door: Samiira Abdi, your girlfriend up until a few weeks ago. She was a really great catch, you recall with a sigh. Tall and lanky, smart, pretty with a distinctive East African nose, and for a couple of years, she skated with the Minnesota RollerGirls under the name Somali Hatchet, which is just impossibly sexy. Right now, she's sporting a look you've never seen outside of old family photos: a hijab. She doesn't seem all that thrilled to see you.

"Hi, Barry," she says, affectlessly. "What are you doing here?" -- she stops and sniffs for a moment -- "Besides wearing a pizza?"

(You could ask her about how she's doing or the hijab.)
You give the dvds to Sam
She takes custody of the discs and finally relents, handing over the clip. "Have fun drowning the world in blood. It was good to see you, Barry." With that, she retreats into her apartment and closes the door.
You go to store
You head on over, leaving your car parked on Cleveland Ave.

This is the front room of Unspeakable Books and Gifts. It's a "magic" shop for the pinks, the rubes who spell magick with a k. They come here to buy healing crystals and novelty Buffy-themed Tarot decks and books about UFOs and accessing their past lives. There's a long display case filled with various mystical knickknacks. There's also a large bookshelf crammed with hokey New Age titles. You can exit back onto the street to the south.

You can see Jeff here.
You give the image to Jeff
You hand it over. "Excellent. OK, now we just need to find something of hers."
You give the hairclip to Jeff
"Sweet!" says Jeff. "Alright, dude. Showtime." He gathers up some crap from behind the counter and leads you downstairs, to the shrine of Great Cthulhu, peace be upon him. Jeff starts by drawing a trapezoid on the wood floor with a piece of chalk. "Hey, better get your robe on," he says. "Make this all official-like. I think the big guys like it when we're dressed for the part." Seems reasonable, so you comply. "Sit on this side," he says, pointing to the wide end; he himself sits at the narrow end. OK, yeah, this is starting to come back to you now. He scrawls out an Elder Sign in the middle, and then lights a candle on either side of you. He dips into a bag of, well, it looks like red sand, but is probably something like granulated Shoggoth nightmares. Wait, no -- the bag is from Petco. Anyway, he sprinkles that around a bit, then places the printout of the woman and her hairclip in the center, on top of the sign. He grabs your hands and closes his eyes.

"OK, so now repeat after me: Ehye f'geb Tsathoggua wgah'n
k'yarnak gof'nn..."

"I forget Tsathoggua vogon kayak golfing..."

This goes on for much longer than you were hoping. Finally Jeff yells, "Iä! Iä!" The sand begins to swirl around until it resolves into the form of a street map. Wow, this is pretty bitchin'. You can feel power flowing through you.

"Barry, get ready! Watch for the spark!" At this, the image and the hairclip are consumed in brilliant green flames, accompanied by thick smoke. The fumes begin to sting your eyes and nose. You're tearing up, and you feel an insistent itch in your nasal passages. A sneeze is coming on. Hastur's hot hole, not now!
You hold nose
Mindful of the sand in front of you (not to mention Jeff, right in the line of fire), you let go of Jeff's hand and quickly cover your nose.

You can't suppress it any longer. Your head rears back involuntarily, brushing up against your lowered hood, and then propels forward. A one-hundred-mile-per-hour blast of air and snot launches itself from your nostrils. You manage to deflect the worst of it with your hands; the sand is still more or less intact. The bad news is that by breaking your connection with Jeff, you've interrupted the spell. The green flames from the image and hairclip die out in an instant. Whatever spark Jeff was talking about doesn't happen.

Jeff shakes his head. Well, that's that, I guess. You're never going to find another item of hers to use in the spell, at least not in time. But on the bright side, you'll get to the meet the Old Ones, after Stu gets a hold of you.
Inventory
You are carrying:
a Baby Ruth wrapper
some greasy sheets of wax paper
a latex glove (being worn)
a flashlight
a filthy pillow
a hooded robe (hood lowered) (being worn)

And you're all greased up.
Smell pillow
Garbage, for sure.

You can't suppress it any longer. Your head rears back involuntarily, brushing up against your lowered hood, and then propels forward. A one-hundred-mile-per-hour blast of air and snot launches itself from your nostrils. With nothing to stop it, or even blunt it, the sneeze scatters the colored sand everywhere. A tiny spark from the green flames shoots like a meteor and lands on the now-bare floor.

Jeff shakes his head. Well, that's that, I guess. You're never going to find another item of hers to use in the spell, at least not in time. But on the bright side, you'll get to the meet the Old Ones, after Stu gets a hold of you.
You sneeze
That's what you're trying to avoid.

You can't suppress it any longer. Your head rears back involuntarily, brushing up against your lowered hood, and then propels forward. A one-hundred-mile-per-hour blast of air and snot launches itself from your nostrils. With nothing to stop it, or even blunt it, the sneeze scatters the colored sand everywhere. A tiny spark from the green flames shoots like a meteor and lands on the now-bare floor.

Jeff shakes his head. Well, that's that, I guess. You're never going to find another item of hers to use in the spell, at least not in time. But on the bright side, you'll get to the meet the Old Ones, after Stu gets a hold of you.
You raise the hood
With your hands unavailable, you grab an edge of the hood with your teeth and make an exaggerated jerking motion with your head. The hood flops up over your face. Good enough.

You can't suppress it any longer. Your head rears back involuntarily, and then propels forward. A one-hundred-mile-per-hour blast of air and snot launches itself from your nostrils. Fortunately, the droopy oversized hood catches most of the impact. The sand is still more or less intact, and you've miraculously managed to keep hold of Jeff's hands as well. A tiny spark from the green flame shoots like a meteor and lands on the sand-map. Jeff, wiping a little snot from his face, peers closely at it. The spark is on the south side of Summit Avenue, between Hamline and Syndicate. That's where she is. Her house, maybe? Is she super-rich or something?

OK, so this is what's at Summit and Syndicate. You're
standing outside Mt. Zion Temple, which you've probably driven by eight thousand times, but never really noticed. It's a synagogue, I guess? It's certainly Jewish. There's a sign outside, with a blue Star of David, since faded to purple. The temple itself is a low, orange-brick mid-century modernist structure. Kowalski's supermarket is to the east, and the entrance to the temple is south. The restaurant is a drive to the southeast.

Your Saturn is parked here.

Streams of people approach the synagogue from all directions. They're dressed all fancy-like for the most part. Some carry brown grocery bags. Those with the bags are handing them to a volunteer standing outside a van parked out front.

There are several St. Paul police officers posted around the building. That's odd. I guess something important must be going on.
You look at the officer
They seem to be just standing there, occasionally smiling and saying hello to people as they walk in.
Go east
Every indication is that this Leah person is inside the synagogue.
You should start there. You can go to the supermarket and get some Ho-Hos after Stu has become chaos incarnate.
Go north
Saint Paul's a smallish city, but too big for you to just wander around in, especially today. From here, your best bets are south, southeast and east.
You go south
This is the main entrance of the synagogue. Directly in front of you, blocking access to what appears to be a fairly cushy lounge area, is a long folding table. Mounted on the wall to your right you can see a small wooden bin and a large wooden rack. The main sanctuary appears to be to the west, and you can exit to the north.

Sitting behind the table is an elderly woman. She seems to be taking tickets from people.
You examine bin
It's a small box mounted on the wall, which contains dozens of little black cloth circles. Ohhhhh. These are the, whatchacallit, beanies that Jews wear. Most people seem to have brought their own, but every so often someone picks one out of the box and puts it on.
You get the yarmulke
You grab a circle and put it on your head. You're feeling more Jewish already.
You examine rack
It looks vaguely like a towel rack, and in fact, there are things that look vaguely like towels hanging from it. OK, not really towels: they're clearly of a thin, smooth and not very absorbent material. Each one has lots of little tassels or fringes on the ends, and there's some Hebrew writing on one of the long sides. They are however, roughly towel-shaped, and have blue stripes in a very towelish pattern. I suppose "shawls" is more appropriate.
You go to the north
You're standing outside Mt. Zion Temple, which you've probably driven by eight thousand times, but never really noticed. It's a synagogue, I guess? It's certainly Jewish. There's a sign outside, with a blue Star of David, since faded to purple. The temple itself is a low, orange-brick mid-century modernist structure. Kowalski's supermarket is to the east, and the entrance to the temple is south. The restaurant is a drive to the southeast.

Your Saturn is parked here.

Streams of people approach the synagogue from all directions. They're dressed all fancy-like for the most part. Some carry brown grocery bags. Those with the bags are handing them to a volunteer standing outside a van parked out front.

There are several St. Paul police officers posted around the building.
You go west
The woman behind the table clears her throat. "Excuse me," she says. "Excuse me! Do you have a ticket?"

Wait, what? Ticket? You have to pay to worship? "Um, how much are they?"

"They're not for sale. They're sent out to members of the synagogue. Space is at a premium during the High Holy Days, you know."

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'm actually a member; I just forgot my ticket.
I'll go get it."

Great. With all the police around, breaking or sneaking in does not seem an option. Better find a ticket somehow.
Go north
You're standing outside Mt. Zion Temple, which you've probably driven by eight thousand times, but never really noticed. It's a synagogue, I guess? It's certainly Jewish. There's a sign outside, with a blue Star of David, since faded to purple. The temple itself is a low, orange-brick mid-century modernist structure. Kowalski's supermarket is to the east, and the entrance to the temple is south. The restaurant is a drive to the southeast.

Your Saturn is parked here.

Streams of people approach the synagogue from all directions. They're dressed all fancy-like for the most part. Some carry brown grocery bags. Those with the bags are handing them to a volunteer standing outside a van parked out front.

There are several St. Paul police officers posted around the building.

Sitting in the van amongst the bags is a wadded-up jacket.
You look at the volunteer
She's wearing a blue vest, designating her as an official person of some kind. From time to time, you can see people walk up and hand her a brown grocery bag full of canned goods.

You hear a clunk and a "D'oh!" Someone's bag has ripped, and cans of food are rolling down the sidewalk. The unfortunate person and the volunteer scramble to catch them and toss them into other not-quite-as-full bags sitting in the van.
Go east
This is the narrow, inadequate parking lot for Kowalski's supermarket. It's filled to capacity, as usual. The entrance to the supermarket is southeast, and the synagogue is back to the west.

There's a puddle of dirty water here.
Go southeast
This is Kowalski's, a Twin Cities chain of high-falutin supermarkets. Everywhere you look, there is food stacked floor to ceiling, and all of it looks good. You're near the produce, which is attractively lit with special tinted lights, so that the greens and reds are deeper and more alluring. There's a display of doughnuts in front of you, and by the registers you can see racks of candy bars, chips, cookies, and all sorts of horrible/delicious snacks. You desperately want them all. Fortunately for you, the bakery and deli sections are on the far end of the store, so that you can't smell them from here. You can exit to the northwest.

Each register has a stack of paper bags. You can probably take one without opposition.
You get the bag
You take a bag, and and you didn't even purchase anything! You're now part of the criminal element, I guess.
You eat the doughnut
Great and powerful Aqua Buddha, you are hungry. But you have no money and no time. You can eat later.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying:
a Kowalski's bag
a kippah (being worn)
a Baby Ruth wrapper
a latex glove (being worn)
a flashlight
a filthy pillow
a hooded robe (hood lowered) (being worn)

And you're all greased up.
You put the pillow in the bag
You put the filthy pillow into the Kowalski's bag.
You put the baby ruth wrapper in the bag
You put the Baby Ruth wrapper into the Kowalski's bag.
Go west
You're standing outside Mt. Zion Temple, which you've probably driven by eight thousand times, but never really noticed. It's a synagogue, I guess? It's certainly Jewish. There's a sign outside, with a blue Star of David, since faded to purple. The temple itself is a low, orange-brick mid-century modernist structure. Kowalski's supermarket is to the east, and the entrance to the temple is south. The restaurant is a drive to the southeast.

Your Saturn is parked here.

Streams of people approach the synagogue from all directions. They're dressed all fancy-like for the most part. Some carry brown grocery bags. Those with the bags are handing them to a volunteer standing outside a van parked out front.

There are several St. Paul police officers posted around the building.

Sitting in the van amongst the bags is a wadded-up jacket.
You examine jacket
It's a dark green jacket, probably belonging to the volunteer. It looks like a small piece of paper is poking out of a pocket.
You get the paper
The volunteer is standing right there. Maybe if she were distracted, and you were quick enough, you might be able to snag it, but not now.
Go east
This is the narrow, inadequate parking lot for Kowalski's supermarket. It's filled to capacity, as usual. The entrance to the supermarket is southeast, and the synagogue is back to the west.

There's a puddle of dirty water here.
You put the bag in puddle
You dip the bag into the puddle. It's now somewhat weakened, so you hold it from the bottom, to keep it from falling apart completely.
You give the bag to the volunteer
You approach the volunteer and she looks up at you.

"You might be misunderstanding the idea here. There needs to be shelf-stable food in it," she says.
You look at what you're carrying with you
You are carrying:
a Kowalski's bag (weakened)
a Baby Ruth wrapper
a filthy pillow
a kippah (being worn)
a latex glove (being worn)
a flashlight
a hooded robe (hood lowered) (being worn)

And you're all greased up.
You go to the kitchen
You head on over, leaving your car parked on Randolph Ave.

This is a small professional kitchen. Although the pots and pans and smaller appliances are all gone, the oven is still functional, as long as your uncle keeps paying the gas bill. Also here, not part of the original decor, is the Ark of Whatever.

The door to the restaurant's office leads west, the pantry is to the south, and the dining room is to the north.

The cable from the security camera runs through here and into a small hole above the office door.

Walter is here, unconscious.
You go south
This is where all the food would be stored, if the bistro were open and functioning. There's a big fridge in the corner and many dusty shelves along the walls. A wooden stair leads down to the basement, and a doorway leads north to the kitchen.

On the dusty shelves are some pizza boxes and some cans of near-food.
You put the cans in the bag
You put the cans of near-food into the Kowalski's bag.
You go to the parking lot
You head on over, leaving your car parked on Summit Ave.

This is the narrow, inadequate parking lot for Kowalski's supermarket. It's filled to capacity, as usual. The entrance to the supermarket is southeast, and the synagogue is back to the west.

There's a puddle of dirty water here.
Go west
You're standing outside Mt. Zion Temple, which you've probably driven by eight thousand times, but never really noticed. It's a synagogue, I guess? It's certainly Jewish. There's a sign outside, with a blue Star of David, since faded to purple. The temple itself is a low, orange-brick mid-century modernist structure. Kowalski's supermarket is to the east, and the entrance to the temple is south. The restaurant is a drive to the southeast.

Your Saturn is parked here.

Streams of people approach the synagogue from all directions. They're dressed all fancy-like for the most part. Some carry brown grocery bags. Those with the bags are handing them to a volunteer standing outside a van parked out front.

There are several St. Paul police officers posted around the building.

Sitting in the van amongst the bags is a wadded-up jacket.
You give the bag to the volunteer
You hand the bag over to the volunteer. She grabs it by the handles and turns around, when suddenly, but not unexpectedly, the bottom falls out. Cans spill out and begin rolling down the sidewalk. She starts chasing after them.
You get the ticket
With the volunteer scrambling around grabbing cans, you deftly lift the ticket from her jacket. You start to feel bad about this, but then comfort yourself with the thought that she's probably been to a zillion of these before. And she's wearing the blue vest, which is probably a Get Into Yom Kippur Free card anyway.

You make a show of tracking down a can or two, then hand them to her. "Thanks!" she chirps, then resumes her duties.
You give the ticket to the lady
You hand your ticket to the woman, and she smiles. "L'shana
tovah," she says, whatever that means. The flow of the crowd
whisks you into the sanctuary to the west.

This is the main sanctuary of the synagogue, decorated in soothing pastels. The business end is to the south: there's a raised area, with a podium, and behind that, there's a small flame burning adjacent to a small pair of doors set into the south wall. In front of the raised area there are rows of seats to accommodate the sizable crowd. You came in from the east, and it looks like maybe there's a way out to the south as well.

Leah must be somewhere in this crowd.

Standing behind the podium is a goateed man wearing white robes, chanting something. The rabbi, presumably. Next to him is what appears to be an animal horn.

...Ba-ruch a-tah A-do-nai...
You examine the crowd
You survey the assembled congregants. Lots of people of all ages, sizes, and unexpectedly, colors. Many of the boys are wearing the same sad uniform: a button-down shirt, khakis, and sneakers. Don't kids have suits anymore? Never mind that. Focus! Where is this Leah person? Better keep searching the crowd.

...E-lo-hei-nu, Vei-lo-hei a-vo-tei-nu, v'imo-tei-nu...
Search crowd
You continue scanning the crowd for signs of the intrepid pain in the ass who took the Heart. You don't see her, but you do see a kid reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows instead of his
prayer book. You can only silently salute his forethought.

...E-lo-hei Av-ra-ham, E-lo-hei Yitz-chak, Vei-lo-hei
Ya-a-kov...
You examine the bimah
It's not particularly noteworthy.

...Ha-eil Ha-Ga-dol Ha-Gi-bor v'Ha-No-rah Eil Eil-yon...
You go south
You need to find Leah and get the Heart first.

...go-meil cha-sa-dim to-vim...
You examine the crowd
Dammit, where is she? Then, at last, you spot her: she's up very close to the front, near the interior aisle, right in front of everybody. Of course she is. As unsuspiciously as you can manage, you thread your way through the crowd to arrive at an open seat just behind hers. It's her alright -- same height, same build, same freckles, same frizzy hair that you saw on the security system. You know, in person, she might be kind of cute. Focus! Anyway, she looks a little bored with the proceedings, truth to tell. She's checking her phone from time to time. She's no longer wearing the enormous many-pocketed trench coat. She does have a big canvas satchel with her, though.

...v'ko-nei ha-kol...
You examine the satchel
It's a big grayish tote bag which reads "Mojo Monkey" on the side. Oh my God, the apple fritters at Mojo Monkey. When all this is done, you absolutely need to get over to Mojo's and -- Cthulhu's cthornhole! Stay on target!

As you peer into the bag, you see what you can only assume is the Heart. There's a parcel, about the size of a Chicago softball, wrapped in newspaper, with visible streaks of blood. It's here with her! She hasn't had to time to stow it safely anywhere. Hell, she probably knows that that we're searching for it, and thinks that it's safer with her. Oh, this is seriously lucky. Now, perhaps you can ever-so-carefully take it out of the bag without her noticing...

...v'zo-cheir chas-dei a-vot v'im-a-hot...
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a filthy pillow
a kippah (being worn)
a latex glove (being worn)
a flashlight
a hooded robe (hood lowered) (being worn)

And you're all greased up.

...u'mei-vi ge-u-lah liv-nei v'nei-hem...
You put the pillow in the bag
You probably want to take something out of the bag, not put something in.

...l'ma-an sh'mo b'a-ha-vah,...
You get Heart
You bend down to pretend to tie your shoes, and checking that the coast is clear, you reach into the bag. Blindly, you paw around until you can feel the newspaper. Great Nyarlathotep, it's almost within your grasp. Just another inch and...

Suddenly, there's a scream from the entrance to the sanctuary. A policeman enters, takes a step, and falls over face-first. Striding in over him is your Uncle Stu. Oh no. He must've found Jeff, who must've spilled the beans. The rabbi stops his chanting, and everyone turns to Stu in shock and puzzlement. Stu is changed, and not subtly. He's grown considerably, and his skin, which seems thicker and tougher somehow, is an ashen gray. The ritual is almost complete. All he needs now is to consume the Heart. He raises his meaty fist; in it, you can see a blue crystal. He intones some words that you can't make out from here.

You hear, and then feel, a high-pitched hum: a wave of sickening energy, penetrating your skin, into your bones, into your skull. People all around you begin convulsing in pain.
You get Heart
With Leah crumpled and bleeding, you reach into the bag and grab the Heart. The wrapping falls off, and you're left with the cool, bloody mass in your hands. Although it is undeniably gross, it has the fine marbling of an aged, premium steak.

Leah doubles over in agony, along with almost everyone in the crowd. Damn, Stu is not the forgiving type.
You give Heart to Stu
You make a choice: you are a cultist, dammit. It's time to show these pinks what's what. Triumphantly, you hand over the Heart to Uncle Stu. He's completed every step of the ritual but the last one, and now his journey is complete. He puts a hand on your shoulder, gives you an exaggerated wink, and tears into the Heart with his suddenly-sharp teeth. With the first bite, he begins to grow more massive. His jaw unhinges like a great serpent's, and he swallows the rest of the Heart in one gulp. Tentacles emerge from his torso, and he bursts through the ceiling with a primeval roar. It is glorious, and you have made it possible. Iä! Iä!
You eat Heart
You seize upon an idea: the power can be yours, instead of Stu's. You take a tentative bite of the Heart, then another. The blood trickles down your throat, and instantly, you can feel your gnawing hunger abate. Power courses through you. As Leah and the other congregants crumple to the floor, you begin to thrum with otherworldly energy.
Stu looks up and sees you, sees that you've eaten the Heart. "No!" he hisses, and leaps toward you in desperation. You've ascended far beyond the likes of him, though. You snap his neck with your outstretched talons as easily as you would a breadstick. You feel an overwhelming surge as your form bursts through the ceiling of the synagogue, and your mind encompasses the stars and the ocean floor. Then a thought occurs to you: wasn't there supposed to be some sort of ritual to prepare for this? The explosion that tears through you demolishes much of Summit Avenue.
You go south
You choose to flee with the Heart. Stu won't get it, and neither will anyone else! You scramble over the fallen figures littering the sanctuary, and head south through the doorway. Somehow you find your way through a maze of corridors until you're outside. A cement truck lumbers down the street. Perfect! You take hold of the Heart, cock your arm and prepare to destroy the thing. Then Stu arrives, with a squad of police chasing close behind. "I'll take that," he growls, as he wrests the Heart away from you. With the first bite, he begins to grow even more massive. His jaw unhinges like a great serpent's, and he swallows the rest of the Heart in one gulp. Tentacles emerge from his torso, and he soon towers over the nearby buildings. It's pretty cool. Then he grabs you. Oh, right.
You give the pillow to Stu
Uncle Stu declines the offer.

Blood begins to drip from the rabbi's ears as your uncle invokes the power of the crystal. You see figures all around the sanctuary dropping to the floor. "Make it stop," Leah pleads, almost inaudibly over the infernal hum. She collapses to the ground, twitching, tears and blood streaking down her face. She looks up and recognizes you. Clearly terrified, she curls up into a tighter ball.
Inventory
You are carrying:
the Heart of Something
a filthy pillow
a kippah (being worn)
a latex glove (being worn)
a flashlight
a hooded robe (hood lowered) (being worn)

And you're all greased up.

Almost everyone in the sanctuary, except for you and your uncle, is on the floor writhing, or worse, completely still. Leah quivers involuntarily, her hands clutched around her ears, her eyes closed tight. She whispers, perhaps to no one in particular, "Help me!" Alright, Stu, you think. Point made. Let's skedaddle.
You put the kippah on Heart
Putting things on the Heart of Something would achieve nothing.

You stare, dumbstruck, as the last surviving members of the congregation quiver their last. Stu strides over their bodies triumphantly. Mission accomplished, I guess? You didn't expect him to take it all the way, but Stu has been waiting for this moment for quite a while. He's fired up and ready to roll. Glancing at you dismissively, he snatches the Heart and tears into it with his suddenly-sharp teeth. With the first bite, he begins to grow more massive. His jaw unhinges like a great serpent's, and he swallows the rest of the Heart in one gulp. Tentacles emerge from his torso, and he bursts through the ceiling with a primeval roar. It is glorious. Even though you lost the Heart to begin with, you did at least make an effort to retrieve it, and Stu is feeling magnanimous. You serve at his right tentacle for a brief while until the mood passes, and you are consumed.
You give Heart to Leah
Leah is too busy dying to accept the Heart.

You stare, dumbstruck, as the last surviving members of the congregation quiver their last. Stu strides over their bodies triumphantly. Mission accomplished, I guess? You didn't expect him to take it all the way, but Stu has been waiting for this moment for quite a while. He's fired up and ready to roll. Glancing at you dismissively, he snatches the Heart and tears into it with his suddenly-sharp teeth. With the first bite, he begins to grow more massive. His jaw unhinges like a great serpent's, and he swallows the rest of the Heart in one gulp. Tentacles emerge from his torso, and he bursts through the ceiling with a primeval roar. It is glorious. Even though you lost the Heart to begin with, you did at least make an effort to retrieve it, and Stu is feeling magnanimous. You serve at his right tentacle for a brief while until the mood passes, and you are consumed.
You give Heart to Leah
Leah is too busy dying to accept the Heart.

Blood begins to drip from the rabbi's ears as your uncle invokes the power of the crystal. You see figures all around the sanctuary dropping to the floor. "Make it stop," Leah pleads, almost inaudibly over the infernal hum. She collapses to the ground, twitching, tears and blood streaking down her face. She looks up and recognizes you. Clearly terrified, she curls up into a tighter ball.
You ask Leah about Heart
You couldn't have a conversation in this mayhem.

Almost everyone in the sanctuary, except for you and your uncle, is on the floor writhing, or worse, completely still. Leah quivers involuntarily, her hands clutched around her ears, her eyes closed tight. She whispers, perhaps to no one in particular, "Help me!" Alright, Stu, you think. Point made. Let's skedaddle.
You destroy Heart
Filled with disgust at what you're seeing, you have an idea: perhaps you can destroy the Heart before Stu can get hold of it. You put it on the floor and stomp on it as hard as you can. It's squished a little, but surely still edible, for certain values of "edible." So much for that. You pick it back up.

You stare, dumbstruck, as the last surviving members of the congregation quiver their last. Stu strides over their bodies triumphantly. Mission accomplished, I guess? You didn't expect him to take it all the way, but Stu has been waiting for this moment for quite a while. He's fired up and ready to roll. Glancing at you dismissively, he snatches the Heart and tears into it with his suddenly-sharp teeth. With the first bite, he begins to grow more massive. His jaw unhinges like a great serpent's, and he swallows the rest of the Heart in one gulp. Tentacles emerge from his torso, and he bursts through the ceiling with a primeval roar. It is glorious. Even though you lost the Heart to begin with, you did at least make an effort to retrieve it, and Stu is feeling magnanimous. You serve at his right tentacle for a brief while until the mood passes, and you are consumed.
Burn Heart
You have an idea: perhaps you can burn the Heart! You rush the stage, and place the Heart over the open flame. The Heart begins to warm up a little, but you can see at this pace that it won't burn up in any reasonable amount of time. Hell, if anything, you're just making it more appetizing for Stu.

You stare, dumbstruck, as the last surviving members of the congregation quiver their last. Stu strides over their bodies triumphantly. Mission accomplished, I guess? You didn't expect him to take it all the way, but Stu has been waiting for this moment for quite a while. He's fired up and ready to roll. Glancing at you dismissively, he snatches the Heart and tears into it with his suddenly-sharp teeth. With the first bite, he begins to grow more massive. His jaw unhinges like a great serpent's, and he swallows the rest of the Heart in one gulp. Tentacles emerge from his torso, and he bursts through the ceiling with a primeval roar. It is glorious. Even though you lost the Heart to begin with, you did at least make an effort to retrieve it, and Stu is feeling magnanimous. You serve at his right tentacle for a brief while until the mood passes, and you are consumed.
Break glass
You break the glass (on the second try) and kiss your bride. The assembled crowd claps and hollers in approval. Even the winged horror gives a celebratory screech.

Let's get to the reception; you're starving.
You get Torah
You box up the ark of the Torah and ship it to a giant warehouse amidst thousands of similar crates. Top men will be assigned to study it. Top. Men.

Awakened from this momentary reverie, you recall that the ark is just a cupboard built into the wall of the sanctuary, and cannot be taken.

You stare, dumbstruck, as the last surviving members of the congregation quiver their last. Stu strides over their bodies triumphantly. Mission accomplished, I guess? You didn't expect him to take it all the way, but Stu has been waiting for this moment for quite a while. He's fired up and ready to roll. Glancing at you dismissively, he snatches the Heart and tears into it with his suddenly-sharp teeth. With the first bite, he begins to grow more massive. His jaw unhinges like a great serpent's, and he swallows the rest of the Heart in one gulp. Tentacles emerge from his torso, and he bursts through the ceiling with a primeval roar. It is glorious. Even though you lost the Heart to begin with, you did at least make an effort to retrieve it, and Stu is feeling magnanimous. You serve at his right tentacle for a brief while until the mood passes, and you are consumed.
Swim
The headline in tomorrow's Pioneer Press: Area Man, Unable to
Drop Heavy Robe for Some Reason, Drowns.
You drop the robe
You probably want to hang onto it. You can't be a proper cultist without it.