text: [Themes: Horror, Satire, Science Fiction, strong profanity, office, surreal, satire, violence]
  
  > look at your surroundings
  Every wall, fixture and counter surface in this restroom is painted an intolerably bright, eye-bending nuclear orange. The reasoning behind this choice of decor is unclear -- perhaps the hope is that someone who is tense enough to crack walnuts with his ass cheeks isn't going to be spending lots of time on a toilet seat. Anyway, there's a sink and mirror in the north wall, and a stall to the east. Or you could just leave to the south.
  
  The gutted smoke detector hangs limply from the ceiling, its innards exposed and dangling.
  
  You can also see the stool here.
  
  > open the door
  Which do you mean, the stall door or the restroom door?
  
  > unlock it with hanger
  You jam the coat hanger through the narrow gap and wiggle it around until it hooks onto the sliding bolt. Then, with a jerk, you pull the bolt back, unlocking the door.
  
  [You have just become a little bit more frosty.]
  
  > open it
  You open the stall door.
  
  > go to the east
  Other than the nauseating paint job, there's not much to distinguish this bathroom stall from the thousands of similar ilk. Toilet; toilet paper dispenser; the door to your west; that's pretty much it.
  
  Funny, though. As familiar as all this is, you're sure you've never seen the inside of this particular stall before. As far as you can remember, you've never been in here at all.
  
  > look in toilet
  Nothing, not even any water. Not even, you note with some confusion, a hole for the water to drain through. That's right, just a featureless porcelain bowl.
  
  > close the door
  You close the stall door.
  
  > examine the door
  Interesting. You've never seen it from this side before.
  
  > examine the dispenser
  A little metal box bolted to the side of the stall. There is no toilet paper in it.
  
  > look in it
  No toilet paper in there; not a single square.
  
  > examine the toilet
  Your standard fixture, sculpted from harsh orange porcelain.
  
  > take the dispenser
  That's hardly portable.
  
  > Flush toilet
  There's no handle, no chain, no button. No way to flush it. And nothing in it to flush anyway.
  
  > sit on the toilet
  You turn around and lower yourself onto the seat. Aside from the fact that you are now facing the other direction, little has changed.
  
  > look up
  The ceiling is painted bright orange, just like everything else.
  
  > examine the walls
  The walls here are painted bright orange, just like everything else.
  
  > hit the toilet with the fire extinguisher
  You give the toilet a good, hard thump. You thump it again, a bit harder this time. Next thing you know, you're pounding on the toilet again and again for all you're worth -- you stop yourself, feeling a bit light-headed. Damn. You hate it when that happens.
  
  > enter it
  But you're already on the toilet.
  
  > examine the dispenser
  A little metal box bolted to the side of the stall. There is no toilet paper in it.
  
  There's also a little keyhole on the side facing the toilet. You didn't notice it before, since you were looking at it from the other side.
  
  > unlock the dispenser with the key
  You insert the shiny key into the keyhole and twist it clockwise. A mechanism inside the toilet paper dispenser clicks, and the bathroom is filled with a rumbling sound. Suddenly, the entire rear wall of the stall spins on a hidden axis, taking the toilet and yourself along with it...
  
  Behind the Restroom (on the toilet)
  You're in a narrow, irregular passageway behind the east wall of the restroom. The walls are all dust and splintered wood and ragged plaster, and the floor is bare concrete.
  
  A thin, cringing man in the tattered remains of a business suit is standing here, grinning and cracking his knuckles.
  
  You wonder if any of the others know about this place. You sure as hell didn't.
  
  The thin man grabs your hand and starts pumping it vigorously before you can even get up off the toilet.
  
  "Hi there," he says breathlessly. "Robertson. You must have gotten my message."
  
  [You have just become a little bit more frosty.]
  
  > examine man
  A decrepit scarecrow of a man, Robertson appears to be in the advanced stages of some sort of horrific drug withdrawal. He jitters, frets, drools occasionally, and cracks his knuckles obsessively.
  
  Also, you notice, he has a couple of odd scars on his head, one right behind each ear.
  
  "I've been waiting back here for I don't know how long," he pants. "They tried to get me, too, you know?"
  
  > ask the man about the glasses
  Robertson recoils. "Don't ever let them put those on you! Don't EVER let them!" He rubs convulsively behind his ears. "Almost got me, you know. Almost made me love myself!"
  
  "They tried to teach me... " Robertson suddenly straightens up, darts his skinny head around like a spooked heron. He cracks his knuckles a few times. Then he leans in close. "They tried to teach me how to love," he whispers.
  
  > wait awhile
  Time passes.
  
  "But I got away, you know?" Robertson grins, and does a weird, shuffling sort of jig. "Dug my way back here. They can't find me. Don't know where to look. You know? I'm still digging, too. Pretty soon I'll break through to the outside, and then I'm out of here."
  
  > ask the man about the outside
  At the moment, you can't think of anything intelligent to say about that, so you wisely keep your mouth shut. No point in looking stupid.
  
  > ask the man about Biedermeyer
  Robertson shudders. "Worst thing about him is, we all know who he is, you know?" We just can't say."
  
  Robertson snaps his fingers and makes a sound like a rocket ship lifting off. "Out of here," he whispers.
  
  > ask the man about the hole
  "I bored right through it with this," Robertson says, showing you the letter opener. "That's how I got my food, you know? That's how I put the key out for you."
  
  > ask the man about key
  "Yeah, that was me," says Robertson. "Slipped it into the machine, you know? Through the back. Figured no one'd be looking for it. Except you. Hee, hee," he giggles.
  
  > ask the man about the toilet
  "That's my secret way in, you know." Robertson grins and hunches his shoulders. "Like Batman."
  
  > ask man about the memo
  "It was pretty tricky, getting that note into your box, you know?" Robertson says. "But I did it. Can't tell you how -- it's a secret. But I had help. Chubby pink fairies." Robertson looks around furtively. "That's all I can say... for now."
  
  > ask the man about Benson
  "Took them even longer to change him than it did Furman." Robertson nodes. "Wouldn't have thought it, looking at him, you know? He was slippery. Not slippery enough, though, know what I mean? Ha! Ha!"
  
  > ask the man about Furman
  "Yeah, he went down pretty fast, you know? First to go." Robertson bears his teeth. "Scuttling little yes-man. A fucking beetle."
  
  > ask the man about yourself
  "Been watching you, you know? You're different; I can tell. Why I sent you the note."
  
  > ask the man about himself
  At the moment, you can't think of anything intelligent to say about that, so you wisely keep your mouth shut. No point in looking stupid.
  
  > ask the man about man
  Which do you mean, Robertson, Benson, Furman or Biedermeyer?
  
  > ask man about Robertson
  Robertson smiles. "That's me, know what I mean? Me. Is me. Not them." He taps the scars behind either ear with his index fingers. "Got away, see, and now I'm Robertson. I'm still me."
  
  > ask the man about blue
  Robertson suddenly grabs you by the shirt front. "That's what I've been trying to tell you, man! That's what's going on out there" That's what they're turning into! That's what they're trying to turn YOU into!"
  
  > look
  Behind the Restroom (on the toilet)
  You're in a narrow, irregular passageway behind the east wall of the restroom. The walls are all dust and splintered wood and ragged plaster, and the floor is bare concrete.
  
  Robertson hovers nearby, smiling and cringing like a pathetic sycophant.