text: [Themes: Horror, horror]
  
  > Go downwards
  The upstairs hall, which extends eastward, widens here to form an odd-shaped space. It's too open to be called a room, but too functional to be called a hallway. An ironing board is set up in the northeast corner, and behind it a narrow, steep stairway ascends. There's a doorway to the north, a wide, massive closed door to the south, and a broad window on the west wall, beneath which is a box-shaped window seat.
  
  Luisa is standing at the ironing board, ironing.
  
  > touch clown
  Knowing more or less what may happen, and sort of dreading it but sort of hoping for it at the same time, you reach out and touch the clown. Again you have the sensation that his gloved hand is reaching toward you. A moment later, the music from the merry-go-round seems to swell, and you're dancing with him.
  
  The bedroom dissolves in a smear of circus colors. When the clown releases you, you're in the place that isn't a place, surrounded by floating, swirling blobs of color, and the clown is standing directly in front of you.
  
  Vague many-colored blobs of light float gently around you on all sides, and there are no shadows here. It's like being trapped inside a great big lava lamp, except that you can hear an off-key brass band oom-pahing not far away. The painted clown from the abandoned nursery, now no longer painted but quite real, is standing in front of you, gazing down at you with either pity or wry amusement (it's hard to tell which).
  
  > give the scarf to the clown
  "Hello again," you venture.
  
  "Hello again yourself," the clown replies. "I was wondering if you'd come back."
  
  You show the yellow scarf to the clown. "Is this - would this do what you want? I found it on an old doll in the attic."
  
  He inspects it gravely. "Yes, yes, I remember now. I remember how the little girl used to sit and cry and wipe her eyes with it. I doubted you could find anything of the sort, but you've proved me wrong. May I?"
  
  You hand him the scarf, and he wipes his face with the scarf. Sure enough, his greasepaint swabs right off. In a few moments he's transformed into an odd-looking but not unhandsome middle-aged man. (Could there be a faint resemblance to Hank? No, that's just your overactive imagination. Whatever Hank may have been, he certainly wasn't a clown.)
  
  "Well? How do I look?" He smiles at you. Truth be told, he still looks very odd, what with the sticking-straight-up red hair, the wide green suspenders, and the big floppy shoes, but you politely tell him he looks very presentable.
  
  "Well, then," he says, rubbing his hands together. "Only one more item to go - some nice strong bones so I'll be able to stand up straight when I go out walking in the world."
  
  > go west
  You take a few uncertain steps, but find that you're getting quite dizzy and a bit nauseous. In spite of yourself, you're drawn irresistibly back to stand next to the clown.
  
  Once again the blobs of color start swirling faster and faster, making your head spin. Once again the clown reaches out toward you as if to hold onto you, but you're pulled down the whirlpool. A moment later you're back in the abandoned nursery, feeling as dizzy as before.
  
  This room has been mostly stripped of furniture. The wood floor is bare, the window uncurtained. A bulky, old-fashioned cradle stands in the center of the room. A metal heating grate is built into the baseboard in the west wall, and there's a small square table in the northeast corner, on which stands an old-fashioned model merry-go-round. Dominating the south wall is a large, rather faded image of a clown, which has been painted directly on the wallboard.
  
  > drop all
  wooden bucket: Dropped.
  burlap sack: Dropped.
  screwdriver: Dropped.
  key to Cabin One: Dropped.
  fire tongs: Dropped.
  fat white candle: Dropped.
  
  > PUT CANDLE, CABIN KEY, SCREWDRIVER IN SACK
  fat white candle:
  (first taking the fat white candle)
  Done.
  
  key to Cabin One:
  (first taking the key to Cabin One)
  Done.
  
  screwdriver:
  (first taking the screwdriver)
  Done.
  
  > Leave
  This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.
  
  Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.
  
  You see some rat droppings, some onions, a wooden bucket, a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, a little white pill, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, a fat white candle, the key to Cabin One, and a screwdriver), and some fire tongs here.
  
  > take all
  rat droppings: The rat droppings are of no conceivable use to you.
  
  onions: The onions are of no conceivable use to you.
  
  wooden bucket: Taken.
  burlap sack: Taken.
  fire tongs: Taken.
  
  > fill kettle
  You turn on the tap, fill the kettle, and turn off the tap again.
  
  > look at the kettle
  The old-fashioned tea kettle has a long spout. It's rather dented. By sloshing it from side to side, you can feel that it's full of water.
  
  > TAKE MUG, ENVELOPE, TEASPOON
  stained blue mug: Taken.
  brown envelope: Taken.
  teaspoon: Taken.
  
  > examine the glass
  The juice glass is about three inches tall, and an inch in diameter.
  
  > open the fridge
  Opening the refrigerator reveals an egg.
  
  > examine the egg
  It's an ordinary egg.
  
  > turn on the stove
  You switch on the burner beneath the kettle, and shortly the burner begins to glow with heat.
  
  > open the envelope
  You rip off one corner of the envelope, revealing a fragrant brown powder that's quite likely to be cocoa mix.
  
  > put the Mix in mug
  You empty the brown envelope into the mug.
  
  > put the envelope in the sack
  Done.
  
  The kettle whistles merrily as steam escapes from it.
  
  > pour the water into mug
  You need to be holding the kettle in order to do that.
  
  The kettle whistles merrily as steam escapes from it.
  
  > pour the water into the mug
  You pour steaming hot water from the kettle into the mug, where it swiftly dissolves the cocoa powder, producing a mug of hot cocoa.
  
  > turn off stove
  You switch off the electric burner.
  
  > put the pill in the mug
  (first taking the little white pill from the burlap sack)
  You drop the pill into the mug, where it swiftly dissolves in the steaming cocoa.
  
  > look at mug
  The mug is large, thick-handled, blue, and stained with the residue of years of beverages. It contains some hot cocoa.
  
  > go east
  The screen door screeches metallically as you open it.
  
  The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.
  
  The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.
  
  Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.
  
  > give the mug to Phelps
  "I want to talk to you," you say to Beauregard.
  
  His eyes widen mildly. "So talk, then."
  
  Beauregard accepts the mug of steaming cocoa from you with grave courtesy and slurps. He smacks his lips. "Just the way I like it - thank you kindly, little lady. Now why don't you run along and enjoy what's left of this fine summer afternoon?"
  
  > ask Phelps about the doll
  "I hope I git up to see New York sometime," Beauregard says irrelevantly.
  
  > ask Phelps about Luisa
  Beauregard pulls his gaze back from the lawn. "Was you sayin' somethin', sweet pea?"
  
  > wait
  Time passes...
  
  > go east
  Phelps turns away from you, scratches himself, and goes back to gazing out across the lawn.
  
  As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly.
  
  This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)
  
  To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.
  
  A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.
  
  Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.
  
  > examine wasps
  The wasps' nest is tucked up under the roof at one end of the porch. Quite a traffic of insects is flying in and out.
  
  Honey wiggles her toes.
  
  > Go northwest
  You're standing in the weed-infested remains of a small flower-bed.
  The porch railing is directly above you, almost close enough to reach, and the lawn is back to the east. Only a few feet away, on the porch, Beauregard Phelps is leaning back on the couch, snoring.
  
  > search Phelps
  Beauregard Phelps is too far away.
  
  > go north
  The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. Against an inner wall stands a small square table, with a wooden chair beside it. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.
  
  On the stove is a tea kettle. The cupboard contains a juice glass.
  
  > go to the east
  The screen door screeches metallically as you open it. Beauregard Phelps makes a snorting noise, sits up a little straighter on the couch, rubs his eyes, and yawns ferociously. "My goodness! Must of dozed off for a minute there, but you woke me up." He smiles at you vaguely.
  
  The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.
  
  The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.
  
  Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.
  
  Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
  
  > Go up
  The railing would probably come off if you tried to climb up. That would make a lot of noise, which would attract attention. Besides, you might easily fall and break your tailbone.
  
  > jump
  You jump a little, and land back where you started.
  
  > take bucket
  You pick up the bucket.
  
  > go southeast
  This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)
  
  To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.
  
  A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.
  
  Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.
  
  Honey hums a little off-key tune to herself.
  
  > go west
  As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly. Beauregard Phelps makes a snorting noise, sits up a little straighter on the couch, rubs his eyes, and yawns ferociously. "My goodness! Must of dozed off for a minute there, but you woke me up." He smiles at you vaguely.
  
  The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.
  
  The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.
  
  Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.
  
  Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
  
  > jump over the steps
  You can't jump over that.
  
  Honey stretches languidly.
  
  > look at the steps
  The broad flight of steps leads up to the porch. The planks are badly warped and split, and the gray paint that was applied to them in some remote past is sticking up in thick curling chips.
  
  Honey curls a strand of hair around her little finger.
  
  > go to the west
  As you put your weight on the steps, several of the boards creak loudly. Beauregard Phelps makes a snorting noise, sits up a little straighter on the couch, rubs his eyes, and yawns ferociously. "My goodness! Must of dozed off for a minute there, but you woke me up." He smiles at you vaguely.
  
  The front porch runs the length of the east side of the house. It's not screened in, though it probably ought to be, as there's a busy wasps' nest up under one corner of the roof. The floorboards are uneven, and the railing looks pretty wobbly. A long beige couch, from which the padding is escaping, is jammed against the inside wall, below a window.
  
  The screen door to the house is to the west, and a shallow flight of steps leads down to the east, to the lawn.
  
  Beauregard Phelps is sitting on the couch, gazing out placidly across the lawn. Once in a while his eyes flick toward you, as if he's watching you while pretending not to.
  
  > sit on the couch
  You're not eager to get that close to Beauregard Phelps.
  
  Beauregard points at where Honey is sunbathing on the lawn. "Quite a little heifer, ain't she? Course, you wouldn't know."
  
  > sit on the floorboards
  You can't sit on that.
  
  "I heard your aunt's gonna get you all dolled up for the picnic. I just can't wait!"
  
  > examine the window
  The window is on the wall behind the ratty beige couch, almost directly above Beauregard Phelps's spotty bald head.
  
  Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
  
  > open the window
  To do that, you'd have to lean directly across Beauregard Phelps, and he might grab you.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes...
  
  "Wish I had me a seegar," Beauregard says wistfully. "Summer afternoons just ain't the same since I gave up them seegars."
  
  > wait
  Time passes...
  
  Beauregard belches, and doesn't apologize.
  
  > wait
  Time passes...
  
  Beauregard beams at you in a slimy, sweaty way.
  
  > wait
  Time passes...
  
  Beauregard smacks his lips. "That young lady from Nashville, now - she's quite somethin', ain't she?"
  
  > wait awhile
  Time passes...
  
  Beauregard lazily waves away a curious wasp.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes...
  
  Beauregard hitches up his suspenders.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes...
  
  "I heard your aunt's gonna get you all dolled up for the picnic. I just can't wait!"
  
  > go west
  As you reach for the screen door, Beauregard Phelps smiles at you in a slimy way. You smile back and get ready to run, but it seems he's no longer quite so interested in visiting with you as he was earlier. You're able to reach the door and open it without interference. The screen door screeches metallically as you open it.
  
  The entry hall of Eternal Springs is bare of decoration. The only furnishings are a grandfather clock, which ticks heavily, and a small round telephone table. The front door of the house stands open to the east, the screen door providing, at best, a very partial barrier against the ingress of insects. There are open archways to the north and south, and a narrow staircase with a threadbare runner leads upward. The hall extends further to the west, alongside the staircase.
  
  After you go through the screen door, it closes behind you.
  
  > look through the door
  Which door do you mean, the long glass door in the clock, or the screen door?
  
  > cut the door
  What do you want to cut it with?
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You are carrying a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, a fat white candle, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, and some fire tongs), a teaspoon, and a wooden bucket. You're wearing your clothes.
  
  > look through it
  Through the east window you can see the porch and the lawn. Through the south window you can see the cabins.
  
  > open it
  The window is stuck. You strain to lift it, but it won't budge.
  
  > examine the window
  The window looks out on the porch, and beyond that the lawn.
  
  > examine the window
  The window overlooks the cabins to the south.
  
  > look through the window
  Most of the view out the window is obscured by trees that stand against the house. Through the trees you can glimpse a little of the two-lane blacktop that runs past Eternal Springs.
  
  > Go north
  You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead south, back to the upstairs hall; and west, to the closet.
  
  > open the window
  You glance at the window and instantly dismiss it as unimportant.
  
  > go to the south
  You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads southeast to the lawn.
  
  > climb the railing
  The railing looks quite flimsy. It would probably pull loose and make a lot of noise.
  
  > examine Phelps
  He's leaning back on the couch on the porch, eyes closed, mouth wide open, snoring as loud as a locomotive. His pants pocket is sagging open.
  
  > examine the pocket
  Phelps's trousers provide plenty of fabric to cover the lower part of his considerable bulk. They're khaki-colored and held up by suspenders. The pockets are sagging open, possibly because of the relaxed way he's half-reclining on the couch.
  
  > look in the pocket
  His trousers are too far away for you to reach them.
  
  > Go southeast
  (first moving off of the wooden bucket)
  
  This lumpy, patchy stretch of lawn is the most pleasant outdoor spot at Eternal Springs, though that isn't saying much. A rusted, sagging chaise longue is provided for the comfort of anyone who would like to bask in the scorching heat of the afternoon sun. (There's precious little shade here, other than the low oblong of obscurity wedged beneath the chaise.)
  
  To the east, the lawn is bordered by a high hedge of a virulent and sickly green, whose foliage is laden with a bounty of pulpy red flowers. The arid stretch of dirt between the cabins stretches out to the south. The main house stands, crooked and bleak but stubbornly attempting a faded grandeur, to the west, a short, broad flight of board steps leading up to the long porch, which is roofed over but nonetheless gapes open on the afternoon. A tiny, weed-infested flower-bed crouches to the right of the steps.
  
  A cracked and buckled concrete walk leads away through some tall bushes to the north, and another walk, whose slabs are tossed as if by some prehistoric geological upheaval, curves out of sight to the southwest around the corner of the house.
  
  Honey Hartwell is reclining on the chaise longue, leafing through a magazine.
  
  Honey adjusts the angle of her straw hat microscopically.
  
  > show the candle to Tyrone
  (first taking the fat white candle from the burlap sack)
  Tyrone shakes his head. "Oh, honey, you carryin' a heavy load, ain'tcha? Wish I could lighten it some."
  
  > go to the south-east
  You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north, to the kitchen; south, to the area behind the cabins; east, to the north end of the croquet court; west; northeast, back to the lawn; northwest, to the gravel driveway; southwest, to the garden of junk; and in, to in the van.
  
  > ask Tyrone about the mask
  "Hello, Tyrone," you say.
  
  "Hello again," he says. "How you gettin' along, now?"
  
  You consider asking Tyrone about the ebony mask - but he doesn't know you've been inside his shack, and maybe it's better that way.
  
  > ask Tyrone about the voodoo
  Tyrone spreads his hands. "You got me."
  
  > Go south
  Tyrone shrugs and goes back to work on the van.
  
  The open area behind the western row of cabins is thinly carpeted with scruffy, dusty weeds. A large, rusted incinerator stands in the middle of the open space. A scraggly tree has set down roots quite close to the leftmost of the three cabins whose rear walls form a barrier to the east.
  
  To the south is the shed at the edge of the swamp. You can go north to the area in front of the run-down shack, where the motel's dusty van is parked. The overgrown, junk-strewn garden beside the shack is to the west.
  
  > Go upward
  From this perch in the midst of the scraggly tree, you can't see much. The area behind the cabins is obscured by foliage. However, you're quite close to the rear wall of Cabin Four, and have a close view of the cabin's bathroom window, which is open.
  
  > look in the window
  The bathroom looks ordinary enough. Beyond the open bathroom door, a man is sitting on the bed, hunched over a laptop computer.
  
  > examine man
  The man is intent on what he's doing with the computer.
  
  > ask Luisa about the matches
  As you start to speak, Luisa scowls at you irritably. "Why don't you go outside and play?"
  
  "Oh, that." Luisa shrugs. "It ain't none of my business."
  
  > turn the arrow to the sun
  The arrow on the device is already pointing straight at the sun.
  
  > look at the clock
  The grandfather clock stands as stiff and still as a tombstone, except that within it a brass heart ticks as the pendulum swings back and forth behind the long glass door. The clock face is numbered using Roman numerals, to which a pair of ornate old-fashioned brass hands (rather bent and tarnished) are pointing. If the clock is to be believed, it's now 5:41.
  
  > examine the face
  Which face do you mean, the snapshot, or the clock face?
  
  > Clock face
  The clock face, which is behind glass, has the usual Roman numerals in the usual positions, and a pair of ornately curlicued brass hands. If the clock is to be believed, it's now 5:41.
  
  > examine the hands
  The brass hands might once have been well polished, but by now they're splotchy with bits of corrosion. The hands point to the hour of 5:41.
  
  > take the hands
  You can't have those; they're part of the grandfather clock.
  
  > drop all
  burlap sack: Dropped.
  teaspoon: Dropped.
  fat white candle: Dropped.
  
  > put the skeleton in the grate
  The skeleton is not something that can be put through the grate.
  
  A finger bone drops off of the skeleton's hand. No, carrying it around like this just isn't going to work.
  
  > put the mat in the grate
  (first trying to take the straw mat)
  If you pick up the mat now, what's on it will slide off. You might try rolling it up.
  
  > open mat
  Before unrolling the mat, you need to put it down. Otherwise, there's no telling what might happen to what's in it.
  
  > put the mat on the table
  The rolled-up straw mat is too large for the shallow table.
  
  > Go south
  You can't go that way. Obvious exits lead north; east, back to the alcove; and in, to the dumbwaiter.
  
  > Smell bed
  The bed smells disgusting.
  
  > examine the dresser
  The chipped, warped chest of drawers looks like it's about a hundred years old, and has been rejected as junk by every antique shop in the state of Mississippi. It stands against the west wall - crookedly, because one front leg is visibly shorter than the other. The top is littered with a scatter of stuff.
  
  > examine the stuff
  The stuff on the dresser is about what you'd expect - a couple of hairbrushes full of greasy gray hair and dandruff, a chipped saucer with some paper clips and thumbtacks in it, and some pecan shells. There's nothing else of interest among the stuff on the dresser.
  
  > move the bed
  The bed is too heavy.
  
  > look through the peephole
  Through the peephole you can see Luisa standing at her ironing board, ironing.
  
  > Go outside
  This cheerless cubicle looks oddly stark with the shelves leaning in one corner. There's an open doorway to the south, a door to the west, which is closed, and a square hatch in the north wall.
  
  Several long pine planks are leaning in a corner.
  
  You see some rat droppings, some onions, a burlap sack (which contains a pill bottle, some faded photographs, a flashlight, a croquet hoop, a partially crumbled piece of burnt toast, a bad fuse, a sketchbook, a stone bracelet, a gold locket, an old shovel, an indecipherable map, a poker, the key to Cabin One, a screwdriver, a brown envelope, and some fire tongs), a teaspoon, and a fat white candle here.
  
  > take all
  rat droppings: The rat droppings are of no conceivable use to you.
  
  onions: The onions are of no conceivable use to you.
  
  burlap sack: Taken.
  teaspoon: Taken.
  fat white candle: Taken.
  
  > put the candle and the spoon in the sack
  fat white candle: Done.
  teaspoon: Done.
  
  > Go south
  The kitchen is large and not especially neat. The appliances are all ancient, their surfaces dented and chipped. The refrigerator stands against one wall, the stove against another, and there's a cupboard above the sink. Against an inner wall stands a small square table, with a wooden chair beside it. An exterior door is to the south, interior doorways to the east and north.
  
  On the stove is a tea kettle. The cupboard contains a juice glass.
  
  > go west
  The closet is small and pretty much empty. Set in one wall is a little metal door about a foot high, which is open. The bedroom is to the east.
  
  You see some toast crumbs here.
  
  > Go west
  You can't go that way. The only obvious exit leads east, back to the dreary bedroom.
  
  > look at the table
  The old wooden table is a small, square, utilitarian surface, rather battered and with one crooked leg.
  
  > examine the appliances
  The appliances include the sink, the stove, and the refrigerator. To interact with them, you need to refer to them singly.
  
  > examine the sink
  The sink is lined with a mottled crust of scum. A faucet is mounted above it.
  
  > drop all
  burlap sack: Dropped.
  
  > open the slab
  The slab is already open.
  
  > Go east
  A square-cut channel, too broad to jump and seemingly bottomless (though in the dim light it's hard to be certain) stretches from north to south here. Spanning it is a narrow ribbon of silver, barely wide enough to walk on. The ribbon shimmers slightly, as if it's made of oily light. The walls of close-fitting gray stone were obviously made by human hands - or at least, by hands of some sort.
  
  An open doorway leads west, and the silver bridge affords a slightly vertiginous path to the east.
  
  > Go east
  You step lightly and carefully across the narrow silver bridge. As you reach the far end, a sizzling, crackling noise behind you makes you whirl and look back. The bridge is evaporating at your heels into a drift of silver sparks. The sparks spin, dimming, into the abyss. In a moment the bridge is gone.
  
  A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors, but the slim silver bridge that was here before seems to have vanished, leaving you no way to cross the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.
  
  > go north
  This large room, which smells cloyingly of incense, is luxuriously furnished in an style that you'd probably be able to identify if you hadn't been daydreaming so much during World History. Possibly it's Aztec, Mayan, Incan, or even Egyptian. Straw mats hang from the walls, painted with elaborate designs in red and black. A heavy cabinet stands against the east wall. The bronze door is to the south, and daylight spills through an open archway to the north.
  
  The heavy wood cabinet contains a wooden staff, a golden cape, and a golden helmet.
  
  > wear the cape
  (first taking the golden cape)
  Okay, you're now wearing the golden cape.
  
  > Wear helmet
  (first taking the golden helmet)
  Okay, you're now wearing the golden helmet.
  
  > Go east
  Though paved in polished marble and enclosed on all sides, this large square room is open to the sky above. Aside from some low benches, also of marble, that surround a shallow, square pool of water in the center of the room, it's unfurnished. There's a high arched doorway to the north, a row of lower arches on the east, a tunnel entrance to the west, and a square-cut doorway to the south.
  
  > look at the statue
  The statue has wide, glaring eyes that glitter a deep red, outstretched hands with fearsome claws, and a grimacing mouth lined with pointed teeth. Looking at it sets your heart tapping in your chest.
  
  > take the mat
  You've already taken a mat. No need to collect the lot.
  
  > go to the north
  This little balcony overlooks a small but well-maintained formal garden dotted with fruit trees. Looming over the garden to the east is an imposing, windowless building whose heavy, close-set stone pillars suggest Egypt or Ancient Rome. An open archway to the south leads back into the chamber, and a steep flight of stairs leads down into the garden.
  
  > go south
  A broad passageway runs north and south here, flanked on the west by a square-cut channel of unguessable depth. Directly across the channel, to the west from where you're standing, is an open doorway through which can be glimpsed the cheerfully torchlit room of seven doors, but the slim silver bridge that was here before seems to have vanished, leaving you no way to cross the channel. On the east side of the passageway is a narrow opening, beyond which a stairway leads down into the gloom.
  
  > go south
  The passage from the north opens out here on a balcony overlooking a jarringly prosaic scene. Half a dozen men wearing camouflage combat fatigues and black berets are lounging around a long table, smoking cigarettes and talking in low voices. The men are armed with what look like automatic rifles. Fortunately, they don't seem to have noticed you. A stairway leads down from the balcony into the middle of the room.
  
  > go to the east
  The walls of this tunnel are of rough-hewn, square-cut dark gray stone. The ceiling is high, and the walls seem to press close, as the tunnel itself is not wide. The air is cooler here than in the upper passage, and smells a bit dank. A narrow stairway ascends to the west, and the tunnel extends away into the gloom to the north and east.
  
  > Go east
  The stone tunnel terminates here against a solid block of stone that stretches from floor to ceiling at the east end. The only way you can go is back to the west.
  
  > Go east
  Behind you, to the west, is the imposing edifice of the building, which is broken here by a row of arches. To the east a shallow flight of stairs at least fifty feet wide glides down to the near edge of what appears to be a slum. Mud-brick hovels, some thatch-roofed and some topped with red ceramic tile, are crammed together in a cityscape that stretches to the horizon. Brown-skinned, black-haired people are moving in and out among the nearer structures; they don't seem to have noticed you yet, but you're very visible. Clearly, this is not a safe place to linger.