text: [Themes: Surreal, party, music, Don Juan]
  
  > describe your surroundings
  Everything is on fire. The floor is burning and the walls are burning and the table looks like a big bonfire; all the settings are twinkling in the light of the flames. The room is rapidly filling with smoke.
  
  Do you really need me to tell you this?
  
  > throw the Thunderbird on the fire
  You can't even remember if you're still carrying it.
  
  What are you trying to tell me? No. Forget it.
  
  > throw the prevenge on the fire
  You can't even remember if you're still carrying it.
  
  Have you been paying any attention? At all?
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  a bottle of PrÃ©venge
  a crowbar
  a bottle of Thunderbird
  an ornate key
  
  And if it doesn't matter to you, then it doesn't matter at
  all?
  
  > Drink Thunderbird
  You don't have a corkscrew handy, which is just as well. Just the fumes off of this stuff could be hazardous to your health.
  
  You do not talk to me that way.
  
  > Sorry
  Oh, don't apologise.
  
  No, you listen to me. I'm tired of this.
  
  > listen
  You hear nothing unexpected.
  
  You wanna let me finish?
  
  > wait a while
  Time passes.
  
  You do not talk to me that way.
  
  > Yes
  That was a rhetorical question.
  
  This is serious. Do you think I'm kidding?
  
  > Go south
  T (first opening the narrow door)
  The door is engulfed in flames, impossible to pass.
  
  Do you really need me to tell you this?
  
  > go west
  The door to the foyer is blocked. The only way out is east.
  
  I'm done with this.
  
  > Go east
  The fire has already spread through here; it's climbing up the sides of the pool table and the credenza.
  
  The elephant foot umbrella stand is here.
  
  Across from him is Miss O, lounging on the couch as if it were a day bed.
  
  Ivan is leaning on a bar stool, apparently standing only with great effort.
  
  You wanna let me finish?
  
  > examine the stand
  It must have walked here by itself; it's too heavy to be carried.
  
  I've had enough of this attitude.
  
  > talk to Miss O.
  Miss O hobbles over to you as fast as she can.
  
  "I'm sorry," she gasps. "I'm sorry." She reaches to touch your face, but her arm suddenly swings wildly.
  
  It is made of wood. You can see the veins of the grain working their way up to her head.
  
  "I think this might be ironic," she rasps. But now her head is made of wood, and now she's on fire, and now she is a pile of ashes.
  
  Do you really need me to tell you this?
  
  > talk to Ivan
  LE TO PASS.
  
  The doctor wobbles, then topples; he manages to save himself by falling backward on the pool table.
  
  "I am having an epiphany. Right now I am realizing that I am basically a drug dealer," he says. "Because I never stop hooking these people up with their pills. I mean addicts. They're not people, they're addicts."
  
  His spine falls out of his back, and he flops to the floor.
  
  His eyes widen: he has had another epiphany. "That was a terrible thing to say," he gurgles. "I'm sorry."
  
  He tries to curl up in a fetal position against a leg of the table, but the table rears back in disgust and stomps him out like an insect.
  
  I'm done with this.
  
  > go south
  The couch and chair are being rapidly consumed by flames; the rug is almost completely gone.
  
  You can hear people yelling in the foyer to the west.
  
  Garry lies on the coffee table, his eyes closed, his feet hanging off the end awkwardly.
  
  I'm done with this.
  
  > talk to Garry
  "I did something bad," he mumurs, without opening his eyes. "I took something that didn't belong to me."
  
  He grimaces. "I stole from my office. I stole a chair."
  
  You roll your eyes.
  
  "But I don't deserve a chair. Even the electric chair is too good for me. The statue has come to punish me, and I'll wait here for him to do what he will. After he gets done with John." He takes a deep breath.
  
  "Message repeats. I did something bad. I took something that didn't belong to me." Oh, for Pete's sake.
  
  I've had enough of this attitude.
  
  > examine Garry
  He's holding your lilies over his chest. He's sweating all over, but there's a smile on his face.
  
  Don't think for a minute you're getting away with anything.
  
  > wake up
  The dreadful truth is, this is not a dream.
  
  No. I don't care anymore. Do what you want.
  
  > Sleep
  You aren't feeling especially drowsy.
  
  Do you really need me to tell you this?
  
  > Drink crowbar
  There's nothing suitable to drink here.
  
  Don't think for a minute you're getting away with anything.
  
  > go west
  You've almost escaped. The front door is to the south.
  
  John is sitting in one of the high-backed chairs. The one next to him is empty.
  
  The statue is here.
  
  The wall clock is on the floor, shattered.
  
  The statue rumbles: ## Repent.
  
  John sighs in exasperation. "I already told you, man. I'm sorry for murdering you. I mean, killing you. In self-defense. It was a wrong place, wrong time kind of thing."
  
  Repent. roars the statue, and a wave of heat rolls out of it like a sonic boom.
  
  "No! I said already! Already I told you this! I cannot apologize for screwing your daughter. I have to be true to myself, man."
  
  But you must-- the statue attempts, but John is on a roll.
  
  "And what myself is, is, a lover. Of ladies. You can't take that away from me. And I can't apologize for that. I mean, I can, but I'm not gonna."
  
  The statue creaks. It turns toward you.
  
  > hit John
  You.
  
  It points at the chair next to John. ## It is your turn. Sit. Join your master.
  
  "Oh, hey!" Now John notices you. "Look, this guy wants us to apologize for all the terrible stuff we did. I don't know if it's a religious thing, or if he's just angsty about being dead, or what. Either way, we're gonna burn to death, so..."
  
  Sit, insists the statue.
  
  You're not listening. You're not listening.
  
  > talk to John
  "Nothing right now, thanks," John says, keeping his eyes on Miss O. "Remember, though, about the guest of honor, on the host's right."
  
  Sit, and repent. The statue seems to want to throw you bodily into
  the chair.
  
  "Come on!" cries John. "Let's get this over with!"
  
  Have you been paying any attention? At all?
  
  > sit
  What do you want to sit on?
  
  > sit on the chair
  You sit down next to John. The statue looks at you. The flames rise.
  
  John leans back and smiles: his body turns into a pile of ashes. Then yours does too; then the chairs, and then the rest of the house. Everything is gone, except the statue.
  
  > go south
  You must name something more substantial.
  
  The statue and John both regard you expectantly. The fire is spreading.
  
  No. We're not finished.
  
  > Exit
  But you aren't in anything at the moment.
  
  The statue and John both regard you expectantly. The fire is spreading.
  
  This is serious. Do you think I'm kidding?
  
  > look at the front door
  The statue and John both regard you expectantly. The fire is spreading.
  
  I'm done with this.
  
  The door isn't on fire, yet; outside is the lawn, and safety.
  
  The statue and John both regard you expectantly. The fire is spreading.
  
  This is serious. Do you think I'm kidding?
  
  > open front door
  As you open the door, cool night air rushes in from outside. If John or the statue reacts, you don't know; they are behind you.
  
  The statue and John both regard you expectantly. The fire is spreading.
  
  You're not listening. You're not listening.
  
  > Go south
  Lawn
  You run out across the lawn: you fall on your face in the grass before you reach the street.
  
  But you're safe. It's dark out here, and cold, and the guests and John and the statue are all behind you. You lie in the grass and breathe in huge gulps as the screaming fire engine sirens fill the air.