text: > Look around
  Bathroom of the Meatpacking Plant  (Chris Jones) (in the stall)
  You're inside the bathroom stall, which is one of those big accessible ones. There's a surprisingly clean porcelain toilet sitting invitingly in the center of the stall, with some toilet water in the open bowl.
  
  Unfortunately it looks like some jackass has removed and run off with the flush handle dealie that one normally uses to flush a toilet, and you can't see a lid on the tank, so the toilet looks out of commission at the moment unless you can find a way to address that.
  
  Next to the toilet, there's one of those grab bars set into the wall. Next to that, there's a little door to what appears to be a janitor's closet, if the word "Janitor" on the door is any indication. Next to that, there's a medicine cabinet. And all around those things
  are graffiti. Just tons and tons of graffiti. Speaking of: on the back of the stall door, someone scratched the words "I Told You Not To
  Use The Shitter, Broseph". Below that on the door, someone has inscribed the Elder Sign.
  
  You can see a pentagram edge on the floor just outside the stall here.
  
  > examine the pentagram
  Just your run of the mill pentagram. About six feet across, artfully carved into the floor. You know. Perfectly normal pentagam. Perfectly normal bathroom.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  a shower knob
  a real weird handwritten note you found in the back of a vintage
  issue of Juggs Magazine (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a vintage issue of Juggs Magazine
  a bloodstained witch-knife (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a bottle of Pepto-Bismol
  a rad wizard lighter (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a candle shaped like a hand (of which a finger is on fire) (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a copper amulet (being worn)
  an a worn out, decaying picture (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a little stoppered vial of blue liquid (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a battered yellow JogMaster (being worn)
  a slip of paper (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a calfskin coat (being worn)
  a pewter box (smelling faintly of mildew) (open but empty)
  a silver urn (smelling faintly of mildew) (open but empty)
  a pair of reading glasses (being worn)
  a cold spot on your collarbone (haunting you) (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a book list (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a golden apple (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a FFFFFFFF punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a 923647F1 punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a C353F128 punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a 0B46E931 punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an AE9B711D punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a 00A02209 punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a can of salt (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a blank punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  the Journal of Edwin Cragne (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an Isole Perdute (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a Lettera Segreta (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a Prurito Notturno (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a Piccoli Uomini Blu (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a rusted toolbox (smelling faintly of mildew) (open)
  a jar of old keys (open)
  a splintery wooden key
  an ornate bronze key
  a frosty blue key
  an intricately folded origami key
  a silver and ivory key
  a jar of screws (open but empty)
  a teapot (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a scrap of paper (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a snowglobe (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a black fountain pen (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a mallet (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a metal flask (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pinch of snail paste (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an Italian magazine cutting (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a police report ("Francine Cragne") (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a note from a seesaw (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a piece of chalk (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a black box (smelling faintly of mildew) (open but empty)
  a shard (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a broken silver amulet (smelling faintly of mildew)
  red-rimmed porcelain plates (smelling faintly of mildew)
  red-rimmed porcelain cups (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a spray bottle that used to contain fungicide (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a gallon jug of white vinegar (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pair of garden shears (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a rusty flathead screwdriver (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a trophy for a dog race (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a black business card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a rusty piece of metal (smelling faintly of mildew)
  some yellowed newspapers (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an employee ID card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a long hooked pole (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a grimy rock (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a backpack features guide (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a trolley schedule (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pamphlet of home listings (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an antique locket (smelling faintly of mildew) (closed)
  a wad of cash (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a repaired page (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a waterproof flashlight (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a filthy rug (smelling faintly of mildew)
  Daniel Baker's note (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pull-string doll (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a glass jar containing an insect (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a half-full styrofoam coffee cup (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a familiar gold wristwatch (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pair of stone earplugs (being worn)
  a trolley pass (being worn)
  a Jansport backpack (being worn and open)
  a hidden pocket (open but empty)
  a key pocket (closed)
  a book pocket (closed)
  a side pocket (closed)
  a trash pocket (closed)
  a gold jacket (being worn)
  a giant milkweed leaf (being worn as a mask)
  
  > put the candle in pentagram
  You put the lit candle shaped like a human hand on top of the pentagram. That doesn't seem like a good idea but okay.
  
  The pentagram suddenly blazes alight with ghostly blue flame! And also something starts glowing in the toilet bowl, in the stall. Weird.
  
  > look at the bowl
  A standard porcelain commode. Suspiciously clean for a meatpacking plant bathroom, although it's probably covered in a thin layer of invisible meat debris like everything else in this plant. The bowl is open, containing some kind of luminiferous æther. The luminiferous æther appears to have replaced the normal toilet water when you activated the pentagram. It's glowing slightly, bathing the stall in a panalopy of alien colors that have no terrestrial equivalents. It appears that the toilet is currently unflushable due to the fact that some obnoxious fuck ran off with the flush handle. Also, there is a sign taped to the toilet that has printed on it: "Caution! Danger! Subatomic structure of toilet EXTREMELY compromised! Localized failure of the strong nuclear force may occur! Use is unadvised!
  -maintenance, and then farther down on the sign in a different
  hand: "RIP JON I TOLD YOU NOT TO SHIT HERE!". Troubling
  signage, to say the least.
  
  > search it
  In the toilet bowl is some kind of luminiferous æther.
  
  > examine the aether
  It's some manner or other of luminiferous æther, the kind that astronomers and Greek philosophers used to think that space was filled with. They were wrong about it being in space but apparently sometimes it is in toilet bowls? Anyway, it appears to have replaced the normal toilet water. It's glowing slightly, flickering through a series of sickly alien colors that have no terrestrial equivalent.
  
  > get it
  You're not sure how? It's kind of insubstantial to everything except gravity and light, at least if Newton was right. And even if you could just grab it, that would still require you to stick your mitts up to the elbow into the toiletbowl of a meatpacking plant.
  
  > look at closet
  You see nothing special about the janitor's closet.
  
  The boneless horse oozles and schlorps around the stall, occasionally smacking it with a hoof, still making car engine noises. "Br-RN-NN-NN-NN-NN!". The Elder Sign holds. For now.
  
  > read the handwritten note
  It has some writing on it in gothic script, which says:
  
  Edward! Stop leaving the damn candle on the pentagram when you're
  not using the toilet-portal. I'm tired of the meatpacking proletariat falling ass-first into orbit around my [mustard stain] and
  dying there every week. And I'm already burning through a truly astounding quantity of baby souls to maintain a bathroom in two spacetime locations at once, much less keep a five-million-mile wormhole open for every sausagewright that can't be arsed to read a sign on the work toilet. So again: keep the candle off the pentagram and don't open up any more portals!
  
  Also, it is absolutely imperative that you get that demonic
  monster out of the bathroom pipes before it kills again, lest we be caught. Since it is an unliving abomination that cannot die, I recommend banishment: use the [ketchup stain] spell on the
  vellum [more ketchup] scroll; it's on my bookshelf. As my
  apprentice you should have the magickal skill to cast the spell on the horse without your [whiteout, or possibly mayo] turning
  inside out.
  
  At any rate I have business in space, but expect my return on the
  full moon of [mayo?]
  
  I remain,
  Konstan[lettuce stuck on the page] Cragne
  P.S.: If I find you have touched my journal in my absence, I shall transmogrify you into an abscess on a buttocks. xxoxo be good
  
  Oh lord, this bathroom has some mysterious mystical connection to one of your bizarre in-laws. Why are they all so weird and/or evil? One thing at least is for certain: Edward (whoever that is) needs to stop eating on the can while reading his mail
  
  > put knife in the bowl
  You put the bloodstained witch-knife (smelling faintly of mildew) into the toilet bowl.
  
  > put the knob on the closet
  Putting things on the janitor's closet would achieve nothing.
  
  The boneless horse oozles and schlorps around the stall, occasionally smacking it with a hoof, still making car engine noises. "Br-RN-NN-NN-NN-NN!". The Elder Sign holds. For now.
  
  > put the knob on the toilet
  You screw the shower knob onto the toilet where the flush handle goes. You should be able to flush the toilet now.
  
  > Flush
  (the piece of chalk (smelling faintly of mildew))
  That isn't a thing you can flush. Probably.
  
  > Flush toilet
  You flush the toilet. The luminiferous æther begins to circle in the bowl, making alien colors and weird shadows dance along the walls. Briefly you can see a hole at the bottom of the toilet where the pipe would normally be, which appears to lead to a starry void into which some kind of luminiferous æther are ejected. Wild. Then the bowl refills with more luminiferous æther and you can't see the hole into space anymore.
  
  Dare you try it while sitting on the can?
  
  > sit on the toilet
  You sit on the toilet.
  
  > Flush toilet
  You flush the toilet. The luminiferous æther begins to circle in the bowl under your bum, making alien colors and weird shadows dance along the walls of the stall (and probably also along the bottom of your bum, but you can't see that so it's just a guess). Then the walls start spinning. Actually spinning. The meatpacking plant bathroom spinning around you starts to run like an oil painting left out in the sun too long, everything melting and flowing downwards. Downwards and inwards towards the toilet you're sitting on. Reality itself begins to swirl around you, like æther in a toilet bowl...
  Suddenly you're pulled backwards and downwards, by your bum, into the locus of the reality swirl...
  You are hurtling bum-first at sub-light-speed through a hyperspace wormhole of kaleidoscopic color-lines, just like that homeless fortune-teller told you would happen one day after she read your palm (and right before she shouted at you about how chemtrails were retroactively changing the spelling of "Campbells Soup"). What a weird coincidence. Anyway, you look over your shoulder and see that you are rapidly approaching a star-filled exit from the wormhole. Before you can react, you are ejected out into a... bathroom stall?
  Bathroom of the... Meatpacking... Plant? (Chris Jones) (on the
  toilet (in space)) (in the stall (in space)) (in the terrifying void full of alien stars (aka "space"))
  This is a perfectly normal bathroom. In space. Beyond the visible rays of the life-giving sun, surrounded by strange and distant constellations. There's a bathroom stall (which is floating in the void of space next to you), a urinal (floating in space nearby), a sink with a mirror over it (yup, both floating in space) and even a shower (space!) for those days at work when you are FLOATING IN THE LIFELESS VOID OF SPACE OH GOD WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN YOUR CHILD IN THIS FRIGID AIRLESS HELL.
  
  Actually wait okay, there appears to be air at least, that's something. And it's pretty cozy in the stall, to be honest. The toilet itself is a lot nicer here, and there's an old-timey phonograph and even a fireplace with a hearth on one side of the stall. It wouldn't be the worst place you've dropped a deuce, even accounting for the fact that you're millions of miles from everything you've ever known or loved and surrounded by weird shit. Speaking of which:
  
  There's some weird shit orbitting the space bathroom-stall: some corpses, a small bookshelf (on which is a book of Unfortunate Baby Names, a mysterious scroll and a small blue journal (which you know is a journal because it says "Mein Journal" on the front)), and
  what appears to be a... '70s Pontiac Firebird a little farther out, all circling slowly through space.
  
  And the bathroom itself appears to be in orbit around an icy planetoid many miles below you, the curve taking up much of your view in one direction. The planetoid is covered in alien spires and hurts to look at. Otherwise, you know, this is still a perfectly normal meatpacking plant bathroom. In space.
  
  You can see a pentagram (covered in blue flames) floating in the void, not too far from the space urinal here.
  
  > examine the mirror
  (the bathroom fixtures (in space))
  The sink and shower, along with the mirror, are floating serenly nearby in space. They're a little farther out than you're comfortable traveling to from the stall, considering that they are in the airless void of space and the strongest nearby gravitational pull is from a toilet.
  
  > look at the corpses
  There's a bunch of frozen space corpses in low orbit around the bathroom, most of them in meatpacking employee coveralls. Wow, no wonder they had people stop using the toilet.One corpse's coveralls has a name-patch that says "Ed" on the front, and "Janitor" on the back. Guess that corpse is named Ed. Was named Ed. Do corpses still have people names? Hmm.
  
  On a loop of Ed's coveralls, you see a pair of keys. Presumably that same corpse is the "Edward" mentioned in that handwritten note you found on the other side of the portal-toilet.
  
  > get the keys
  (the jar of old keys)
  Taken.
  
  > examine the coveralls
  Ed's coveralls. There's a set of keys attached to them. They say "Ed" on the front and "Janitor" on the back, and they're covered in ketchup, mayo and mustard. Edward, you were a messy, messy boy.
  
  > get all
  book of Unfortunate Baby Names: Taken.
  
  mysterious scroll: Taken.
  
  small blue journal (which you know is a journal because it says
  "Mein Journal" on the front): Taken.
  
  > put the keys in the kp
  (the jar of old keys in the key pocket)
  You unzip the key pocket, deposit the jar of old keys, then zip the key pocket back up again.
  
  > get the keys
  You reach up and try to take Ed's keys. Shit, they're attached to his coveralls.
  
  > cut the keys
  Try "attack the janitor's keys with something" instead.
  
  > get Ed
  He's hardly portable.
  
  > read the scroll
  It says:
  
  Edward, this is the one! Use this spell on the horse! -
  Konstantin
  
  1: Lite thee a hande of glory and place it upon the pentagram to activate a portal. Use thee a hande or foote or other extremity; a torso of glory or an ass of glory will cause thine spell to fail and possibly thine life to end
  
  2: Fasion thee a mannikin, poppet or figurine of wax, resembling the being to be sent by the Translocation and placeth it on the pentagrame.
  
  3:Wave a stoat or ermine to focus the majickal energies. A live stoat or ermine must be used or else the spell will fail most dysaterously. Edward, I discovered that waving a dead one will do just fine, although you'll need to drink a Potion of Fortitude first or else your organs will end up outside your body. Yes, even the good organs. To make the potion, mix bismuth and carbonated corn syrup with a small amount of trilobyte milk. - Konstantin
  
  4: Place a virgin on thine pentagram and sacrifice her most vigorously with an athame. It says "her" but honestly either gender will work fine as long as they're a virgin. Look for people buying Cure albums at the local record store, perhaps. - Konstantin
  
  5: Shout the majick werd "OUTERICA". The thinge that has been representated with the wax mannikin shalle be most forcifully banishede to the other side of the thy active pentagrame.
  
  At the bottom of the scroll, there's another note from Konstantin that says "Edward, this is VERY important! You must [ketchup
  stain] the [mustard] or else [mayo]! This is
  very important!! You must [more mayo]!! Son of a bitch,
  was Ed eating a fucking hamburger over this ancient magic scroll?
  
  > read Journal
  Which do you mean, the small blue journal (which you know is a journal because it says "Mein Journal" on the front) or the
  Journal of Edwin Cragne (smelling faintly of mildew)?
  
  > read the blue journal
  You can't, the owner locked the stupid thing shut. It's got a little keyhole on the front though.
  
  > read the baby names
  Elizabeth Dicksmith
  Poonpounder H. Washington Jones
  
  Yeah okay these are pretty bad.
  
  > get the coveralls
  You reach up onto the floating corpses and wrestle with Ed's coveralls, eventually stripping them from his frozen corpse. Turns out Ed liked to freeball it, and now it looks like he's mooning that icy planetoid the bathroom is orbitting.
  
  > examine the baby names
  The Book of Unfortunate Baby Names: Thrill to this hilarious collection of REAL BABY NAMES that REAL BAD PARENTS gave their
  kids!
  All text © Hillbilly Bathroom Laughter Press, 1991
  
  > Examine journal
  Which do you mean, the small blue journal (which you know is a journal because it says "Mein Journal" on the front) or the
  Journal of Edwin Cragne (smelling faintly of mildew)?
  
  > Blue
  It says "Mein Journal" on the front, and it appears to be a collection of folios bound in very soft blue leather. It appears be locked, and has a little keyhole on it.