text: [Themes: Surreal, adventure, gender-neutral protagonist, humor, fantasy, unicorn]
  
  > look around
  The organ playing is deafening here. It's echoing around the curved ivory walls, its descending scales and dark figures amplified and multiplying, a dense wall of foreboding music. The doorway and stairs behind you seem terribly inviting -- if you had any excuse to leave her, any unfinished business, you would scamper downstairs now. Otherwise -- another door lies on the other side of the chamber.
  
  But there is another machine between you and that door. And looking in that machine, you almost flee straight away: sitting on the red fake leather seat, wearing a peculiar helmet, is a grinning skeleton.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  a third key
  a second key
  a lit lantern (providing light)
  a sack (open)
  an axe
  a newspaper
  a first key
  a wooden box (closed)
  a bunch of keys
  a Chinese key
  a lighter
  a qualiascope
  a manual
  file of Platonic forms
  a useless scrap of paper
  a Categorical Imperativator
  
  > get the skeleton
  As you touch the skeleton, it slumps awkwardly out of the Machine and collapses, amid a cloud of choking dust, into a pile of bones on the floor of the chamber, clattering hollowly on the ivory. The headset swings down and bounces folornly on the end of its cord. There's an awkward silence.
  
  "Sorry about that," you say.
  
  > Third
  second key: (first taking the second key from the sack)
  (putting the third key into the sack to make room)
  Dropped.
  third key: (first taking the third key from the sack)
  Dropped.
  
  > 2
  "Hah!" laughs the demon. "By and by, no doubt. But first: How do you find my realm?"
  
  [1] It's . . . very nice.
  [2] Awful. I've been nearly gored by a unicorn, trodden in philosopher vomit, watched my mother almost get incinerated, and been emoted to by vampire bats. And that's your fault, I find now, is it?
  [3] I didn't find it, it found me. What's all this about?
  
  > 1
  The demon chuckles once more at your response. "I somehow doubt you've found it so, as you've got this far. Tell me, did you not find it all at all strange?"
  
  Before you can respond he continues: "Of course you did. I designed it to be so. I have carefully crafted this world to be confounding to your every sense, bedazzling to your mind and befuddling to your wits. Now do tell me: was it not good?
  
  [1] Yes, good, very good. Can I go now?
  [2] If by "good" you mean "mind-numbingly sadistic", then yes, it was good.
  [3] No, it was utterly horrible! Are you telling me you created this whole place?
  
  > 3
  "In a manner of speaking," answers the demon, his wrath mounting. "But enough talk -- to the fun!
  
  [1] Fun? Fun? What fun?
  [2] Wait, wait! Why me?
  
  > 1
  [3] Sure, fun: but first I have to know: Where is this place? What am I doing here?
  
  "Why, the d?noument," answers the demon. "The final duel!"
  
  [1] Wait, wait! First I have to know: Where is this place? What am I doing here?
  [2] This is a duel for my life, right?
  [3] (fight him)
  
  > 1
  The demon smiles. "This is not a where," he says enigmatically. "Where you are, I do not know. This world -- this world is but an illusion of your mind. My powers of creation are but these: to control your every sensation, to sustain the representation of life in your consciousness. I am your world.
  
  And now I will be your death. We must duel!
  
  [1] This is a duel for my life, right?
  [2] (fight him)
  
  > open the box
  You remember what the martyr said -- that the power of the Ding an Sich will dispel all illusion -- and wrench the box open.
  
  Immediately the room is filled with an extraordinarily bright light pouring forth from the box, which is quaking in your grasp. You cast it to the ground, and it skids along the ivory towards the Demon, showering sparks in all directions.
  
  You look up at the Demon's stricken face -- he is gasping, his eyes bulging -- he is clawing himself away from the burning light. You shield your eyes from the sight, but you can still hear his hellish bellows -- they echo round the chamber, growing louder and louder, and all you can hear is the noise and the light is burning through your eyelids . . .
  
  > look
  Suddenly all is quiet and still. You open your eyes. The demon has vanished -- and so has the box. There is a dull, whistling sound. The walls of the ivory chamber, you realise, look wrong -- thin, weakened somehow. They are growing strangely transparent, but instead of the blue skies beyond there's a strange darkness. You look down, and realise that the same is happening to the floor beneath your feet.
  
  Soon the ivory tower has vanished entirely. You're falling, and beneath you you see the lights of the village wink out one by one. The now-dark ocean is rolling up the beach, and the plains seem to be melting away. You feel the air rushing by as the rocky ground comes rapidly up to meet you, ready to crush your helpless body. The end is coming.
  . . .
  . . . ugh . . .
  . . . bleurgh . . .
  You didn't expect the afterlife to smell vaguely of vomit, which was the first clue. When you opened your eyes and realised that the dull pressure on your noise was due to the way it was squashed into the scratchy carpet, that was the second clue. The third was when you rolled over and saw your own bedroom ceiling.
  
  Your own blessed room. Your own blessed hangover. Your own blessed dried pool of sick lying beside you.
  
  You pull yourself gingerly to your feet. You're still wearing your watch -- and it's telling the time and date you'd expect it to. For a moment you worry you're going to be late for the morning's lecture, and the wild dreams of the night are already fading from memory. Then you remember: term's over. You've nothing to do but lie around all day long, recovering from the previous festivities. And then, tonight, with your classmates, you fully intend to start a fantastic bonfire, and burn every single one of your lecture notes.
  
  You realise you're still gripping something in your hand. You open it -- and there it is, lying in your palm. A tiny key, with a little Chinese symbol engraved on it.
  
  You look at it for a while, and then go to fetch a mop and bucket.