text: > Look around
  Being this far out in the country, the garden is really the only place at Pine Meadows where nature exists, yet isn't out of control. The topiary is subtle, no garish animals or ambitious creations. Flowers line the drive to the south, down which the valet service lies. A path, hedged with rose bushes, curves round the club to the northeast, and the club itself lies to the north.
  
  > go to the east
  Since tennis became passé, this court is mainly used by those few members who actually enjoy the game. In fact, due to the reduced use, the club has even begun letting non-members play on it. You've never been that fond of tennis and with the rabble about, you're loath to even stay on the court. Hardly a big loss. The net droops, the benches are peeling, and the rubber floor sticks to your pumps. Although you are fenced in on most sides, thankfully, you can still leave to the more agreeable outside dining areas to the northwest and north, or the garden path to the west.
  
  Beverly hops from foot to foot, waiting for a ball to come out of a serving machine at the other end of the court.
  
  In a strangely crude move, Beverly shifts her bra uncomfortably.
  
  > show the film to bevely
  You can only do that to something animate.
  
  > show the film to Beverly
  "I guess this is what you're after," Beverly says, fishing in to her shirt and pulling out a photo. "Sorry about all I've put you through today, it's just I couldn't afford to let you know I had it until the banquet. You've proved quite resourceful so far. Who knows? Had you known it were me from the start, you might have just been able to stop me." She puts the photo back in her blouse. "Really, Julia, Frank and all his money deserve to be with someone a little more faithful than you. And once he sees this photo he'll realize who that is. Men are so easy to bend when vulnerable, don't you agree?"
  
  "Oh well," she says, turning off the machine and wiping the sweat from her brow. As she does, Beverly glances at her watch. "My, my. Look at the time. I must be getting ready for the banquet. Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. I talked to Charles and told him about how it had been so long since I had seen Frank and he was more than willing to seat us all together. Isn't that wonderful?"
  
  "See you there," she says, throwing her purse over her shoulder and walking off.
  
  Beverly was right, the banquet is almost starting, which means Frank will be arriving soon. You run as fast as you can without breaking a sweat to the bathroom, toss your stuff in your locker, and go about making yourself look as presentable as possible. Quickly, you get the extra clothes from your locker, put them on, and go about fixing your makeup. Within twenty minutes (a Pine Meadows record) you are ready and speed your way to the banquet hall, drawing more than a little bit of attention: running is as rare as running shoes amongst these people.
  
  Luckily, your speed pays off and you get to the banquet just in time. Frank is just arriving and Beverly is nowhere to be seen, apparently your tampering with her clothes slowed her down long enough. Just as the doors open, Beverly comes racing down the hall with a sweater tied around her waist, casting you a dirty look as she does. With that, you are all ushered in to the hall.
  
  Banquet hall (at your table)
  Well, here you are, seated at a table in what amounts to the most horrifically uncomfortable chair you have ever been upon. An ostentatious centerpiece, surrounded by candles with a program leaning against it, sits in the middle of the table, its baby's breath bouncing perilously close to the flames. All around you, the din of diners talking, plates clunking, and air-conditioners whirring, fade in to the background, allowing you to concentrate on the problem at hand.
  
  Frank sits to one side, gazing fondly at you.
  
  Beverly eyes you suspiciously and pulls her purse a little closer.
  
  You nervously flip the menu over in your hands, absent-mindedly pretending to read.
  
  > look at the menu
  The situation is enough to make you lose your appetite. And if it weren't, having seen the kitchen earlier certainly would.
  
  Beverly takes a sip of her drink.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  a menu
  a change of clothes (being worn)
  your Louis Vuitton bag (which is open)
  your make-up
  your watch (being worn)
  
  > examine the candle
  I guess Charles thinks that if the banquet is lit with these, people won't be able to see how tacky the whole thing is.
  
  Frank sips at his drink nervously.
  
  > look at centerpiece
  Egad, from a cursory glance, the centerpiece appeared to be fresh-cut flowers, but on closer inspection, it's plastic! You knew this place was going down hill, but plastic?
  
  Glancing up towards the stage, you see Charles preparing the podium for the speakers.
  
  > Burn menu
  Trying to make it look as accidental as possible, you put the menu in to the flame. Within seconds it is flaring away, causing quite a scene.
  
  "Your menu!" Frank shouts, jumping to his feet, surprisingly gallant. Quickly, he grabs one of the glasses from the table and dashes water over the burgeoning fire. It goes out with a hiss, leaving a puddle of ashy water and charred paper. "That was close," he wheezes, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
  
  "Yes, a little too close," Beverly mutters, eyeing you suspiciously and moving her purse beneath her chair.
  
  A team of waiters, hitherto immobilized with shock, move in to action. Within a few moments, the table is restored and people start getting back to waiting for their meals and gossiping amongst themselves.
  
  > look under the chair
  Bending over has already gotten you in to one awkward position today.
  
  > Burn program
  Better not, you already look like enough of a pyro.
  
  Suddenly, from the stage, the ceiling, and behind, speakers screech to life. "Testing." Charles voice sounds out from all corners of the room, a good deal less servile when pumped out at a hundred and ten decibels.
  
  > burn beverly
  Better not, you already look like enough of a pyro.
  
  "Now, to say a few words before the banquet, here's Julia Hawthorne, this year's philanthropist of the year," Charles says, gesturing to you with a wide sweep of his hand while an enormous circle of light falls on you from a spotlight above. "Let's give her a hand, everybody!" A round of applause ensues.
  
  > wait a while
  Time passes.
  
  You have no other choice. The time for action is over. Dejected, you make your way to the stage, hoping that Beverly chooses to prolong your anxiety for awhile longer and not show Frank the photo. Of course, hope is all you can do.
  
  When you reach the stage, you cast a glance towards your table, just long enough to see Beverly showing something to Frank. As you begin your speech, Frank leaves the table, and your life, forever.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  Beverly takes a sip of her drink.
  
  > wait awhile
  Time passes.
  
  > wait awhile
  Time passes.
  
  Frank sips at his drink nervously.
  
  > examine Frank
  Looking at Frank, you wonder what ever attracted you to him in the first place. His skin is pale, his hair is limp, his body is flabby, and his clothes are outdated. Then you glance down at the bulge in his pants and remember: it was the size of his wallet.
  
  Glancing up towards the stage, you see Charles preparing the podium for the speakers.
  
  > Spill drink
  What do you want to spill the drinks in?
  
  > examine beverly
  For all her bravado on the tennis court, Beverly seems to be a tad nervous. It's a lot easier to threaten to cause a scene and ruin a marriage than to actually do so. But if she's held on this long, there's no way she'll bow out now. In fact, you can see her hand dangling below the table, ready to fish out the photo from her purse at any moment.
  
  Frank gulps down the rest of his drink.
  
  > get the drink
  You don't want to anger either of them.
  
  Draining her glass, Beverly licks the rim with relish. She always was a bit of a lush.
  
  > examine the candle
  I guess Charles thinks that if the banquet is lit with these, people won't be able to see how tacky the whole thing is.
  
  "Here, Beverly, let me get that for you," Frank says, taking the empty glasses and calling over the waiter.
  
  "Oh, Frank. You're such a gentleman. How does Julia ever keep her hands off of you?" she says, handing him her glass.
  
  Frank chuckles. He always does that when he's nervous.
  
  > Examine menu
  The situation is enough to make you lose your appetite. And if it weren't, having seen the kitchen earlier certainly would.
  
  A waiter comes by and removes the empty glasses, ignoring all requests for new drinks.
  
  > wait awhile
  Time passes.
  
  > Sing
  Me me me me!
  
  Suddenly, from the stage, the ceiling, and behind, speakers screech to life. "Testing." Charles voice sounds out from all corners of the room, a good deal less servile when pumped out at a hundred and ten decibels.
  
  > wait
  Time passes.
  
  "Now, to say a few words before the banquet, here's Julia Hawthorne, this year's philanthropist of the year," Charles says, gesturing to you with a wide sweep of his hand while an enormous circle of light falls on you from a spotlight above. "Let's give her a hand, everybody!" A round of applause ensues.
  
  > Burn menu
  Trying to make it look as accidental as possible, you put the menu in to the flame. At first, no one notices the small flame, and by the time they do, it's too late for them to do anything.
  
  "Your menu!" Frank shrieks, pointing frantically and lurching back from the table. His foot catches on the leg of his chair, and he is sent sprawling in to a dessert cart. Another time and you might have found that funny, but you've had your fill of schadenfreude for today.
  
  Beverly, for once losing her icy composure, scrabbles away from the table as fast as she can.
  
  The fire begins to spread.
  
  > take the photo
  With everyone distracted by the raging fire, you grab the photo. Damn it's hot.
  
  The fire spreads to the centrepiece, the cheap plastic leaves curling and spouting out plumes of foul-smelling smoke.
  
  > Burn photo
  With a rather dramatic flourish (hey, you deserve it) you crumple up the photo and toss it in to the fire. As it burns, so does Beverly's hope of destroying your marriage. Not that she stops trying, though. Frank tells you later that week about a phone call from her, but without any proof, his blind adoration of you wins out over suspicion.
  
  The fire that resulted during the banquet ended up destroying a good portion of the building. Good riddance, you say, the club was past its prime and it was more fitting that it go out with flare rather than dwindle away to mediocrity.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  Beverly takes a sip of her drink.
  Time passes.
  Time passes.
  
  Frank sips at his drink nervously.
  Time passes.
  
  Glancing up towards the stage, you see Charles preparing the podium for the speakers.
  Time passes.
  Time passes.
  
  Frank gulps down the rest of his drink.
  Time passes.
  
  Draining her glass, Beverly licks the rim with relish. She always was a bit of a lush.
  Time passes.
  
  "Here, Beverly, let me get that for you," Frank says, taking the empty glasses and calling over the waiter.
  
  "Oh, Frank. You're such a gentleman. How does Julia ever keep her hands off of you?" she says, handing him her glass.
  
  Frank chuckles. He always does that when he's nervous.
  Time passes.
  
  A waiter comes by and removes the empty glasses, ignoring all requests for new drinks.
  Time passes.
  
  > wait for a while
  Time passes.
  Time passes.
  Time passes.
  
  > wait for a while
  Time passes.
  
  Suddenly, from the stage, the ceiling, and behind, speakers screech to life. "Testing." Charles voice sounds out from all corners of the room, a good deal less servile when pumped out at a hundred and ten decibels. Time passes.
  
  "Now, to say a few words before the banquet, here's Julia Hawthorne, this year's philanthropist of the year," Charles says, gesturing to you with a wide sweep of his hand while an enormous circle of light falls on you from a spotlight above. "Let's give her a hand, everybody!" A round of applause ensues.
  
  > Burn menu
  Trying to make it look as accidental as possible, you put the menu in to the flame. At first, no one notices the small flame, and by the time they do, it's too late for them to do anything.
  
  "Your menu!" Frank shrieks, pointing frantically and lurching back from the table. His foot catches on the leg of his chair, and he is sent sprawling in to a dessert cart. Another time and you might have found that funny, but you've had your fill of schadenfreude for today.
  
  Beverly, for once losing her icy composure, scrabbles away from the table as fast as she can.
  
  The fire begins to spread.
  
  > wait for a while
  Time passes.
  
  The fire spreads to the centrepiece, the cheap plastic leaves curling and spouting out plumes of foul-smelling smoke.
  
  > wait
  Time passes.
  
  The flames web across the tablecloth, scorching the table underneath and sending waves of heat in to your face. You feel your nose soften. Dr. Rickers said it would take at least twice this much heat; that son of a bitch is so sued.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  The fire licks at the table, sending out smoke that makes your head swim.
  
  > wait awhile
  Time passes.
  
  The table collapses in to a pile of flaming kindling, sending a scent reminiscent of your trip upstate in to the air.
  
  All the smoke finally gets to you. Your mind clouds over for a moment, and your knees buckle from under you. The last thing you remember is pitching headlong in to the fire.
  
  When you awaken a few days later, you learn that Frank never saw the photo. But your satisfaction is short lived. With all the scars on your face, that's probably the last photo in which you looked decent. Well maybe not decent.
  
  > tell Frank about Keith
  First casting a defiant look at Beverly, you turn to Frank, take his hand in yours, and pinch your thigh to get some authentic tears flowing.
  
  "Frank, I have to tell you something..."
  
  After what seems like hours of tears, pleads, and yells, things finally settle down. It's over. Not that it's the worst loss or anything, you just wish you hadn't signed that pre-nupt.
  
  > Kiss beverly
  Ahh, convince Frank you're a complete nympho by kissing Beverly and then maybe he won't consider your affair an act of betrayal and instead carry you off to the sexual-dysfunction clinic in his arms and you'll all live happily ever after, is that your plan? Dream on.
  
  Beverly takes a sip of her drink.
  
  > Kiss frank
  You haven't kissed him in months. To do so now might raise suspicion, and something else you're not too fond of.
  
  > Kiss beverly
  Ahh, convince Frank you're a complete nympho by kissing Beverly and then maybe he won't consider your affair an act of betrayal and instead carry you off to the sexual-dysfunction clinic in his arms and you'll all live happily ever after, is that your plan? Dream on.
  
  Frank sips at his drink nervously.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  a menu
  a change of clothes (being worn)
  your Louis Vuitton bag (which is open)
  your make-up
  your watch (being worn)
  
  Glancing up towards the stage, you see Charles preparing the podium for the speakers.