text: [Themes: Western]
  
  > Go downwards
  Down, you say? Well, you begin to shimmy down the tree, precariously clutching onto branches and outcroppings of tough bark--whatever you can reach. Finally, scraped and bruised all to hell, you find yourself on firm ground.
  
  Obviously not a popular picnic spot; in fact, if not for your vantage point perched atop the tree, you would never have known it was here, much less be able to blindly navigate your way through the thick of trees to the south. The meadow opens up to the west.
  Strutting proudly around the meadow is a fiery red stallion.
  
  > look at the horse
  A finer-looking animal you've never seen. You could probably ride forever on this horse, and it wouldn't even break a sweat.
  
  > ride the horse
  You get on the fiery red stallion.
  
  > Shout
  You let out a hearty bellow. Nothing else happens.
  
  > Ride south
  You give the red stallion a couple of pokes in its sides with your spurs, and the animal breaks into a trot. A couple of seconds later, however, an old man in an ascot and a mop of gray hair (John Stratford, that is) comes chasing after you from the west.
  
  "Get off my blimey horse!" he hollers at you in a proper British accent. Right before jamming a couple of shells into a double-barrelled shotgun and shooting you dead.
  
  > Dismount
  You get off of the fiery red stallion.
  
  > Go south
  Your parched brain tries as hard as it possibly can to remember what the path through the trees looked like from above, and you start forging a path...
  
  Standing where you are, in the middle of a thicket of weeds, you're faced by a wall of impenetrable brush to the north. Just to the right of the trees, to the northeast, is the entrance the local stable. Back east is Main Street.
  Little Jimmy is here, looking sullen.
  Bobby is here, jumping up and down in place.
  
  > go north
  Obviously not a popular picnic spot; in fact, if not for your vantage point perched atop the tree, you would never have known it was here, much less be able to blindly navigate your way through the thick of trees to the south. The meadow opens up to the west.
  Strutting proudly around the meadow is a fiery red stallion.
  
  > go west
  Of a mansion, or what might be considered a mansion if it weren't
  quite so rustic looking. It's as if someone took a giant tub of Dr. Ricardo's Growth Tonic (which he peddles to the unsuspecting populace whenever he's in town, about every four months or so) and poured it over one of the ramshackle houses--albeit one of the nicer ones--scattered about Tumbleweed Flats. You can enter the house to the west.
  John Stratford is sitting in his rocking chair, smoking his pipe.
  His trusty shotgun is across his lap.
  
  > shoot Stratford with the roy's gun
  Blam! Stratford looks surprised as hell as you shoot him. He pitches forward onto his knees, then tumbles forward onto his face. He lies that way on the ground at your feet.
  
  Now. What happens next is your introduction to the lovely Juanita Stratford, devoted wife of the (recently) late John Stratford. She comes racing out of the house with her shotgun--exactly the same make and model as his, how romantic--lines up the barrel between you and her, and starts trigger-pulling. Love, baby. And you got in its way.
  
  > ask Stratford about the taffy
  "Oh, I love that taffy."
  
  > show the taffy to John
  "Hey! Now I do know good taffy, and I do believe that is some!"
  
  > ask John about Juanita
  "My dear wife Juanita. I do love her. She is everything a man could want. And one wickedly good shot, to boot."
  
  > give the taffy to John
  Stratford looks surprised. "Why, thank you," he says. "Who told you that I do so love this taffy?" He munches on the candy.
  
  > ask John for the horse
  Which horse do you mean, the old black mare or the fiery red stallion?
  
  > ask John for red stallion
  Stratford's mouth is too gummed-up with sticky taffy to talk.
  
  > Gallop south
  Obviously not a popular picnic spot; in fact, if not for your vantage point perched atop the tree, you would never have known it was here, much less be able to blindly navigate your way through the thick of trees to the south. The meadow opens up to the west.
  Strutting proudly around the meadow is a fiery red stallion.
  
  You get on the fiery red stallion.
  
  You give the red stallion a couple of pokes in its sides with your spurs, and the animal breaks into a trot. A couple of seconds later, however, an old man in an ascot and a mop of gray hair (John Stratford, that is) comes chasing after you from the west.
  
  He tries to shout something at you, but his mouth is gummed up with taffy. The same goes for his fingers, which are useless so far as pulling the trigger on the shotgun he is aiming at you.
  
  Empty lot, on a fiery red stallion
  Standing where you are, in the middle of a thicket of weeds, you're faced by a wall of impenetrable brush to the north. Just to the right of the trees, to the northeast, is the entrance the local stable. Back east is Main Street.
  Little Jimmy is here, looking sullen.
  Bobby is here, running in circles around Little Jimmy.
  
  > give your gun to Jimmy
  To walk, you will have to get off of the fiery red stallion.
  Otherwise, try "ride" or "gallop" and a direction.
  
  (taking your six-shooter first)
  You pull your six-shooter out of your holster.
  
  Little Jimmy bawls: "Taffy! Taffy! Gimme back my taffy!"
  
  > Ride east
  North end of Main Street, on a fiery red stallion
  Now leaving the bustling metropolis of Tumbleweed Flats, pop. 59.
  The local stable is off to the northwest, just north of an empty field. To the east is the north end of the hotel, although it doesn't look like you'd be able to get by the stack of crates and barrels. A dusty road continues north out of town.
  
  > Ride north
  Edge of town, on a fiery red stallion
  You can still see Tumbleweed Flats behind you where the road curves around from the south. A dead, rotted tree stands here, marking the memory of the last living thing between here and where the road disappears into the eastern distance.
  
  > go to the east
  To walk, you will have to get off of the fiery red stallion.
  Otherwise, try "ride" or "gallop" and a direction.
  
  > Ride east
  Long and dusty road, on a fiery red stallion
  Brambles and cactuses all over the place. Some might call it the desert. Not all that lucky for you, seeing as you're wandering around in the middle of it.
  
  > Ride east
  The red stallion gallops along without faltering, eating up the distance, Tumbleweed Flats disappearing far behind you.
  
  End of the road, on a fiery red stallion
  The dusty road stretches back to the west as far as the eye can see, and then some. A steep bank rises up to the southeast; you can't see what might be at the top of it.
  Sarah is here, sitting atop her beautiful Arabian horse.
  
  "I'm glad you made it," Sarah says as she climbs down from her horse.
  
  > stand
  You get off of the fiery red stallion.
  
  > Kiss sarah
  She pushes you away. "Hey, hayseed. I don't know what you think you've got coming for helping me out, but if that's it, you can just forget it."
  
  > ask Sarah about Uncle
  "He may be a little strange, but, hey, he's my uncle, and he's dear to me--and it's not just because he's got a lot of money. But I'm not going to let that rotten snake Glen Heffer force me into coming up with ransom money--Uncle Bucky wouldn't want that."
  
  > ask Sarah about Glen
  "I guess he can add kidnapper and blackmailer to his list of accomplishments, right after thief, murderer, and son-of-a-bitch."
  
  > get on the arabian
  You get on Sarah's horse.
  
  > Ride W
  Sarah asks: "And why, if you don't mind me asking, don't you just ride your own horse?"
  
  > look at Arabian
  A beautiful Arabian, perhaps two years old. The kind of horse you rarely had the chance to see for yourself--well, before you gummed up Stratford and swiped his stallion, that is.
  
  > Dismount
  You get off of Sarah's horse.