text: [Themes: Humor, Crime, restaurant setting, Guns, male protagonist, gender-neutral protagonist, money, crime, ice cream]
  
  > look around
  No. She definitely can't. It's not just a great move you've found, it's a foolproof gambit. You glance up at her and try to read her expression.
  
  As far as you can tell, she doesn't see it.
  
  So now the question is, do you take the move? Do you make the stupid-looking move and destroy her, or do you make the smart-looking move and let her win?
  
  Say "yes" if you're going to let her win.
  
  > No
  You take the move that seems like an idiotic move. She looks at you quizzically.
  
  Then she jumps every single one of your pieces. How did she do that?
  
  Oh, you missed the& That one. There. You didn't see that one.
  
  "You didn't have to let me win," she says, smiling. "But thanks a lot anyway. I needed something to cheer me up."
  
  [1] "I would actually love to taste something&"
  [2] "I know what kind of ice cream I want."
  [3] "Would you mind my asking&"
  [4] "You wanna hear something weird?"
  [5] "What's your tattoo of?"
  [6] "What are all these newspaper clippings?"
  [7] "What's wrong?"
  [8] "I should get going."
  
  > Yes
  That was a rhetorical question.
  
  > talk to her
  (Zuleika)
  "How can I help you?"
  
  [1] "I would actually love to taste something&"
  [2] "I know what kind of ice cream I want."
  [3] "Would you mind my asking&"
  [4] "You wanna hear something weird?"
  [5] "What's your tattoo of?"
  [6] "What are all these newspaper clippings?"
  [7] "Do you wanna play checkers?"
  [8] "I should get going."
  
  > 7
  "Do you wanna play checkers?"
  
  "Oh, sure!"
  
  She trots with you over to the low wooden table and you each take a seat. The checkers are divided by color and then arranged in the appropriate configuration. Then the game begins.
  
  You are not a master of the art; you do not normally take a lot of time considering each and every possible move. But your opponent is so cautious and deliberate that you feel like you have to slow down, if only to be polite.
  
  Her eyes are narrowed, but she's smiling, and you can tell she relishes the opportunity to take something like this way too seriously.
  Presently you realize the board is a mess. It's absurd that the game should be this close when it's this far along. There must be some release to the tension, some sort of button you can press to bring the whole thing crashing down.
  
  And then suddenly your eyes refocus and your mind is completely clear. You see it. You have never had an epiphany in your life, but you are having one now. You can make a dumb-looking move now that will force her into a position where you'll be able to jump every single one of her pieces, and can she do anything to stop it?
  No. She definitely can't. It's not just a great move you've found, it's a foolproof gambit. You glance up at her and try to read her expression.
  
  As far as you can tell, she doesn't see it.
  
  So now the question is, do you take the move? Do you make the stupid-looking move and destroy her, or do you make the smart-looking move and let her win?
  
  Say "yes" if you're going to let her win.
  
  > Yes
  You take the obvious, smart-looking move. She jumps half of your remaining pieces, leaving you with a single suicidal "choice," which you are of course forced to take, allowing her to clean you out completely.
  
  "That was fun," she says, although her huge grin is enough of an indication. "Thanks. I feel a lot better now."
  
  [1] "I would actually love to taste something&"
  [2] "I know what kind of ice cream I want."
  [3] "Would you mind my asking&"
  [4] "You wanna hear something weird?"
  [5] "What's your tattoo of?"
  [6] "What are all these newspaper clippings?"
  [7] "What's wrong?"
  [8] "I should get going."
  
  > 7
  "What's wrong?"
  
  She breathes in so deeply that you find yourself inhaling along with her, like you're in a yoga class or something. Then she sighs a massive sigh, a lingering sigh. Only after she is done sighing do you allow yourself to exhale.
  
  "I only opened this place a few weeks ago. My parents loaned me a lot of money to get it started, but I kept insisting that I wanted the business to be separate from the dairy farm. I learned a lot about business from them. I wanted to be independent.
  
  "They were worried about this neighborhood, too, but I said it was the best place. I said an ice cream store couldn't fail in the middle of summer, right? But I've had almost no customers. People mostly just come in and look around, like they're gonna buy the place out from under me, and then they tell me 'Oh, this is a tough town for a new business.' 'You're a very brave girl.'" She stares out the window.
  "And those cops, and the guy next door, they just stop by to 'see how I'm doing.' They look all up and down the walls, they look under the seats, and then they ask if the building inspector has been around. There's nothing wrong with this building.
  
  "And I think people are spreading rumors. Someone heard there's E. coli in my ice cream. There's not. I don't have a stupid dripping soft-serve dispenser hanging in the air to collect germs."
  
  She sighs again. "Sorry. Let's talk about something else."
  
  [1] "I would actually love to taste something&"
  [2] "I know what kind of ice cream I want."
  [3] "Would you mind my asking&"
  [4] "You wanna hear something weird?"
  [5] "What's your tattoo of?"
  [6] "What are all these newspaper clippings?"
  [7] "I should get going."
  
  > talk to her
  (Zuleika)
  "How can I help you?"
  
  [1] "I would actually love to taste something&"
  [2] "I know what kind of ice cream I want."
  [3] "Would you mind my asking&"
  [4] "You wanna hear something weird?"
  [5] "What's your tattoo of?"
  [6] "What are all these newspaper clippings?"
  [7] "I should get going."
  
  > 2
  "I know what kind of ice cream I want."
  
  "And, it is&?"
  
  [1] "I would actually love to taste something&"
  [2] "I would like a scoop of vanilla."
  [3] "I would like a scoop of chocolate."
  [4] "I would like a scoop of strawberry."
  [5] "I would like a scoop of key lime."
  [6] "I would like a scoop of mint."
  [7] "I would like a scoop of salted caramel."
  [8] "Would you mind my asking&"
  [9] "You wanna hear something weird?"
  [10] "What's your tattoo of?"
  [11] "What are all these newspaper clippings?"
  [12] "I should get going."
  
  > 2
  "I would like a scoop of vanilla."
  
  "Coming right up!"
  
  She scoops some of the white stuff into a cone and hands it to you.
  
  "That'll be two dollars, please."
  
  > pay zuleika
  You hand $2.00 to Zuleika and she grins.
  
  "Thanks so much!"
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You are carrying:
  a vanilla ice cream cone
  a wire coat hanger
  a note about parking
  an umbrella
  a pair of sunglasses (being worn)
  an bag of M&M's
  $8.27, mostly in change
  your keychain
  a gun
  
  > eat the ice cream
  (the vanilla ice cream cone)
  Vanilla is supposed to be boring. So what the heck is going on here?
  
  It's something else. It's not really vanilla; the girl is just calling it that. Or there is vanilla in it, but something else has been done. What is it?
  
  It's something that's not bad, exactly, but something that you're not supposed to eat. That must be it, because you're starting to feel a little guilty. You hold on to that thought: You need to figure this out before it's gone.
  
  So you start eating a little slower. You close your eyes.
  
  Cookie dough! This tastes like cookie dough. It's not vanilla ice cream with pieces of cookie dough in it; it's cookie dough in the shape of--Goodness.
  
  Now that that's sorted out, you eat the rest fairly quickly, with a feeling of great satisfaction.
  
  > Go west
  Here's the entrance to Paco's Tacos, everyone's favorite place for a bite as long as everything else is closed. The stretch of sidewalk here is covered by a striped awning for the masses to huddle under while waiting for a table at peak hours. The door to the north is framed by neon signs behind plate glass windows. Further east is Get Your Licks.
  
  Now is a good time to go over the plan before you pull the job. It'd be nice if you had everything written down as a reminder, but a note like that could end up being incriminating. So, mentally, as you're standing here in front of the taco shop, remember:
  
  Once you're inside, you're going to go north across the dining room, to where the counter is. Then you're going to point the gun at the cashier and, without hesitating, tell the cashier to open the cash register. When that's done, tell the cashier to take the money from the register and tell the cashier to give the money to you. (But don't say "to you", say "to me".) Finally, while still pointing the gun at the cashier, walk backward to the entrance. Once you're back outside, you just have to get to your car and drive away.
  
  Nobody will get hurt, nobody will recognize you, and best of all, nobody will get evicted.
  
  > Go north
  The place is pretty much dead. The chairs aren't on the tables yet, but the place may as well be closed. The nearest sign of life is a tiny potted tree.
  
  At the north end, across the dining room, there's a counter attended by a cashier, and sitting in a booth way over there are a couple of bikers.
  
  An oversized painting on the west wall arrests your attention.
  
  > look at the painting
  The canvas is so large and the frame so ornate that the piece takes up a huge chunk of wall.
  
  In long, curving strokes that remind you unpleasantly of the sixties, the painting apparently depicts some Victorian millionaire's smoking-room. An unseen fireplace glows orange on the green wallpaper and the green velvet-backed armchairs, which are huddled around something else, over to the side, which you also can't see.
  
  The focus of the composition is a collection of masks, mounted on the wall like trophies and casting weird shadows in the firelight. The masks are all grotesque: One has a huge lower jaw and protruding tusks; one has shaggy sideburns, a lolling tongue and a goatee; the worst has three unsettlingly lifelike eyeballs set above two noses and a wide, gap-toothed mouth.
  
  A mask! Should you be wearing a mask? The cashier will see your face! Or the bikers will see your face, and they'll know it was you!
  
  No, hold on. The reason you're here at Paco's is because nobody around here is going to recognize you, because they'd never think to haul in a guy from your neighborhood for a robbery committed here. You've got nothing to worry about; just get over there and do it.
  
  > examine the bikers
  Just a couple of guys having a taco. Nothing to worry about.
  
  > talk to the bikers
  You can barely even see the bikers from this end of the room.
  
  > Wave
  You wave, feeling foolish.
  
  > jump
  You hop a little hop.
  
  > Sing
  "Oh, I've got a brand-new pair of roller skates; you've got a brand-new key&"
  
  > go north
  Hey, those bikers aren't bikers! They're
  COPS
  As you stagger backward, you collide with something large and doughy-soft, which grunts in response and drops an envelope at your feet.
  
  > examine envelope
  You scoop up the envelope and try to get a better look at it.
  
  It's the size of a normal business envelope, but made out of fancy black paper. The side where you'd normally write an address is decorated with an embossed gold border. Both sides are bulging out from the girth of whatever's inside.
  
  That thing you just bumped into, evidently a sweaty, balding man, snatches the envelope from your hands without so much as a thank you.
  
  "Make sure and lock up my office when you leave," he barks at the cashier. The cashier merely mumbles in response, but his boss is already stomping his way out.
  
  The cash register sits here on a long counter, accompanied by a great big tip jar and guarded by a bored-looking cashier. The menu is printed on a big chalkboard near the ceiling.
  
  Around the counter and to the north is a long hallway. That must be where the big guy came from.
  
  A blonde cop and a mustachioed cop are enjoying their tacos in a booth near the counter.
  
  > look at the jar
  A huge, wide-mouthed glass jar with a piece of paper taped to it reading "TIPS" in huge letters and, below, "aloha!" penciled in smaller letters. It's lined at the bottom with a collection of bills and coins.
  
  > Steal tips
  The cashier gapes at you. "What are you doing?"
  
  "Nothing," you mutter, staring at your shoes.
  
  > look at the menu
  It looks like your standard taco is $2.50, and a beer is& geez, that much for a lousy beer?
  
  > Go south
  The place is pretty much dead. The chairs aren't on the tables yet, but the place may as well be closed. The nearest sign of life is a tiny potted tree.
  
  At the north end, across the dining room, there's a counter attended by a cashier.
  
  Over on the wall is that spooky painting.
  
  > Go south
  Here's the entrance to Paco's Tacos, everyone's favorite place for a bite as long as everything else is closed. The stretch of sidewalk here is covered by a striped awning for the masses to huddle under while waiting for a table at peak hours. The door to the north is framed by neon signs behind plate glass windows. Further east is Get Your Licks.
  
  > go to the west
  The bricks in this alley are so old that at the middle of the road they have sunk a full foot below the level of their neighbors closer to the building walls. Walking across this uneven half-pipe of bricks is an unnerving and probably dangerous experience.
  
  The alley continues north, past a staple-encrusted utility pole, until the beams of the streetlamps don't quite reach; west is the parking lot and east is Paco's Taco's.