text: > Look around
  A creepy acre, yep. Along the north wall you see drapes fluttering. They're too thick to work through, but they seem to have some sort of message on them.
  
  > read the drapes
  Too thick to walk or even cut through. They're made of heavy cloth packed together. Very dark, even in this semi-darkness. But if you look long enough, the various folds seem to make letters.
  
  > look at the letters
  The message in the folds is: NONE WILL | BE SP---D. Three of the letters seem smudged. Darn it.
  
  > Spared
  That is what the drapes say.
  
  > spread the spread
  (examining instead)
  You can see traces of the old message on the drapes--you realize it was NONE WILL BE SPARED now.
  
  > Spared
  Actually, the spread must NOT be spared if you want to get anywhere.
  
  > Scan spread
  The slider buzzes.
  
  > cut the spread
  The spread falls off to the side, revealing a doorway.
  
  > go north
  You don't know what's to the north. You remember something about a lupine lineup, but that unloaded shotgun won't be enough, and you don't have anything that works against them.
  
  > Silver
  The sliver changes and grows even more metallic. It becomes a row of six bullets, tied together like plastic twist-off toys, but obviously more lethal.
  
  > Go north
  This is as ethereal as its inhabitants. You're not sure where the marsh starts and the lake ends. You think you hear a dog bark in this dark bog.
  
  > listen
  You can't hear the dog any more. You're not sure if you want to.
  
  > examine the bog
  The bog feels like a big old gob that could suck you in. You just want to find a way away from it.
  
  > examine the lake
  On almost all sides. You worry you may get sucked down into it.
  
  > Releather
  You won't need to use a word that long in this game. They should all be eight letters or less, except for one compound word.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  Item time! You are carrying:
  a chisel
  some maps
  a full-blown beard disguise (being worn)
  a shotgun
  a tinfoil info-lit
  a salient saltine
  an idlers' slider
  a dope tan notepad
  
  > examine the maps
  You read the maps. So many places to avoid: ah, the heath. Harm's Marsh, Hell's Shell, Dirge Ridge, Nowt Town, even a grocery that'd make an ogre cry. Then the chilling cries of "BRAAINS, SABRINA!" distract you, until you look up in horror...
  
  It'd take a chimera to do the ice harm here, there's so much of it. The forts all around seem to frown at you, and six-foot-high iced dice are placed all around.
  
  All exits seem to lead somewhere even darker. You steel yourself against the sleet.
  
  Six large aplastic capitals sway when there is no breeze and stand still when there is.
  
  > examine the capitals
  A, E, I, O, U and Y, piled up in a pyramid. Hm, they are not just ANY letters. Yup, they're pretty much shouting out (figuratively) "We're vowels!" Yup, even the Y. The vowels also have bumps where they end.
  
  > examine the bumps
  They look almost like fangs or very long nails.
  
  > Wolves
  Well, you've done it now. The imposing vowels become werewolves--but they notice your shotgun and stand back. The first forward gets shot--or so they imagine.
  
  > shoot e
  You must name something more substantial.
  
  > shoot werewolves
  Blam! Some part of the shotgun you couldn't see carves the silver bullet into sixths. Each flies off in a slightly different direction--taking out the wolves. The poison works quickly on them, and the frost forts and iced dice begin to melt quickly. Behind them, you see the strip. You walk back there.
  
  The lupine lineup is no more, thanks to your adept hit in the death pit!
  
  Congratulations! Forest node: done!
  "Yeah! Heya." says a big fellow you hadn't met before, who eyes your inventory and points at the more useless stuff. "Nice work up in the forest. Eric Rice, museum muse. Um. Those Extras. Taxers for you. Nice parts of tributes I'd distribute once you fixed things for good." Before you can thank him, he's gone.
  Trips Strip
  You see what was once a bunch of small malls. Most lots appear vacant or dilapidated.
  
  There's a forest here where store F was, but you probably don't need to go back there.
  
  > check your inventory
  Item time! You are carrying:
  a tinfoil info-lit
  a salient saltine
  an idlers' slider
  a dope tan notepad
  
  > examine the malls
  Of the various stores you see, only store r, store m and store i look like you can do anything with them. Store r has a COMING SOON sign by it. A few others seem greyed-out, like in a video game or something. There can't be anything in any of them.
  
  > examine the store r.
  There's a thin band of red paint around the bottom. You probably need to see what's behind at least one other stores first. You also see a roster in the front door.
  
  > Roster
  (examining instead)
  The roster on the front of store R reads: "People who have earned a vacation: you (well, soon!)"
  
  > examine the store i.
  It has pictures of famous political figures in the window--Winston Churchill, Benjamin Disraeli and that great charmer, Margaret Thatcher (*). You think you remember what party they belonged to. The pictures are big enough to obscure--almost--the outline of a trap door behind them.
  
  (*) semantically, too good to pass up. Feel free and welcome to picture it being said sarcastically.
  
  > Tories
  (examining instead)
  A closer look indicates that they are glued to the inside of the store window, instead of hanging from a wire on a nail or something.
  
  > Sortie
  The store rumbles, destroying the portraits of famous Tories (this is not a political statement) and revealing the small sortie down, collapsing the trap door. A stairway down remains, but that's about it.
  
  > Down
  You climb down a larded ladder, slip, and hear people chattering about Mean Old Lord Ablemiser who'd been a money yeoman, the frugalest till the fear gluts, but who'd nag nary a granny for late fees, a fiances fan since... Generous til gone sour. First he grew antsy, then nasty... more garnish, less sharing... stern rents... quite the extra taxer... claiming to feel raw and that the welfare era flew! "No grace in ignorance, caring one!" He may even have aborted a debtor...
  in ignorance, caring one!" He may even have aborted a debtor...You hear cases for destroying his castle and for showing love. You see and
  avoid tripwires, and just as you feel your wit's riper, you swat at a pest and miss a step, then tumble madly wide of a middle way over a pit...
  pit...You roll down a gradient, tirade, nag to yourself...
  pit...You roll down a gradient, tirade, nag to yourself...Thump. ("Drat, poor trapdoor!" you hear.)
  ("Drat, poor trapdoor!" you hear.)Oh,
  
  > press the space
  ("Drat, poor trapdoor!" you hear.)Oh, Man,
  
  ("Drat, poor trapdoor!" you hear.)Oh, Man, My
  
  ("Drat, poor trapdoor!" you hear.)Oh, Man, My head's
  
  ("Drat, poor trapdoor!" you hear.)Oh, Man, My head's spinning...
  
  ("Drat, poor trapdoor!" you hear.)Oh, Man, My head's spinning...Oh dear it's not me it's the room...
  
  Ug, Frenetic Centrifuge
  Two exits are spinning counterclockwise. They're a right angle apart.
  
  There's a dial here in the middle of the room. It is at 0 and is not spinning with the rest of the room, so you can probably turn it.
  
  Go yon, bud! Repair!
  
  > examine the dial
  You see EXITS ? ?--you can see two letters, but they're scrolling through the four cardinal directions--written in the center of its circle. It's currently set to 0, and you can set it anywhere from 0 to 99.
  
  > Scan dial
  The slider, when over the EXITS part, reads BBBBG??--flipping reds and blues. The dial's solution probably has the letters EXITS in it, somehow.
  
  > set the dial to 16
  The room warps a bit. You wonder if you made things worse, but then things start to slow down...yes! You did it!
  
  The flipping bits in the dial lock in to say EXITS N E. And you see, yes, exits are north and east now.
  
  > Go north
  Two nuts stun you as they jump out. "A blockhead! Ha, blockade!
  
  "Passed our tamest net, but that's no statement. Outrage if you get past our gate." After this rare accident, you're incarcerated.
  
  As they walk away, you hear "...made mead. Much, chum."
  
  Then, drunken reveling. Boy, those pinheads made your head spin.
  
  You're locked in this arty suite of austerity by a great grate. It's a more forbidding version of gateway in the Notices Section. You doubt even Old Man Almond could magic it open. There appears to be no standard way out. It has no accomodations, not even unsoft futons. This is a saner snare than the centrifuge, but it doesn't look like you'll drug a guard or reveal a lever to escape.
  
  Your slider seems to shake a bit.
  
  Boy. Incarceration's making you hungry.
  
  > go north
  You're stuck here. Well, physically, anyway.
  
  You think back to your home and all its comfy rooms.
  
  > look at grate
  Huge. Eugh.
  
  Mmm, Foood. Even a lame meal. You'd even make it yourself.
  
  > Great
  (examining instead)
  Huge. Eugh.
  
  You feel the heat of Lord Ablemiser's hate even from here. You can't take it, so you want to get out of the The Nick. The Nick.
  
  > Sortie
  You can't see anything here like that, or changeable into that.
  
  You doze off and dream you're watching a cooking show featuring ten hicks. They work in multiple...oops, you wake up and forget.
  
  > Examine slider
  You might rather thin-nen to slip through the bars, but you can't.
  
  Your slider's not near anything, but it's registering BBBRBBG.
  
  You wish, randomly, you could etch ink somewhere.
  
  > Kitchen
  That does it! The heck with that silly old grate. Your prison dissolves, and it becomes the place you meant to go all along.
  
  This is a kitchen, though it's a bit bare, except for the obligatory fridge and some really corny tune. There's also a tall trio of chef statues. South is the centrifuge room and east is somewhere less hectic.
  
  A cheesy spearman is here. Well, he's posed all cheesy.
  
  A bottle of CATHOUSE perfume is here.
  
  You can also see a cult tee and a skate here.
  
  You notice some warts on your face. Stress causes them, you know, and between the centrifuge and the nick, you've had a bit lately.
  
  > Steak
  The skate turns reddish, and the blade retracts and becomes the main connecting bone in a slab of steak.
  
  > Lettuce
  The t-shirt crumples and then shreds before turning into a light green head of lettuce.
  
  > Straw
  The warts just peel off and lengthen into straw, which is too heavy to carry. You drop it.