text: Today is the day, hurrah, hurrah! Leap for pleasure with unbounded measure: kind master, generous master, merciful master piled faster
  and faster graces and glories beyond all fabulous places in stories - today you away to a faraway nation, to the land of the quim delivery station.
  
  Quim bag in hand, you bow, then stand, then scurry with feet furry out the door.
  Droll Toll Troll
  
  Oh, glorious, wondrous, rapturous land! The beauty is more than you can understand. Master told of sky - master does not lie - but little furry servant you, you could not know the wonder true. But now you see, you see in glee and praise master's mercy to let you free - not free to leave, silly fuzzy thing, but free to be outside in the wide under-sky, on the road from master's abode to who knows. Master
  knows, and you he told: eastward lies the quim delivery station to which (to your elation) you are to move your fleet and furry feet and inject, input, insert every quim without qualm, lest master withold balm.
  
  You are outside of master's hut, and, for now, gut. Above is the wide and clear purple sky, north and south out and past ken ruffle gently spears of grass. The one and single road in all existence begins (not ends; it's master's instance) at master's door westward and pursues
  the horizon eastward.
  
  > go to the east
  First time farthest from master's hut, first time farthest from
  master. Slowly, first, then faster and faster furry feet patter along the quiet road, hands to hold gently the load.
  
  What's this? 'Road' wouldn't be a miss, but this rises steeply over a river - a bridge, plainly, from hither to thither, with you hither and the goal thither. Between these two places places himself a looming, long-limbed lobster - I mean Robster - I mean mobster - I mean momster - I mean monster. On his face is placed a frown twice upside-down,
  and in his eye you espy a flicker that died. "To pass, cross, or otherwise my bridge transverse you must, without loss, provide a
  smidge to me of that - in the whole universe - which is most
  precious."
  
  The droll toll troll stands in your way and demands his pay. Under
  the bridge streams a stream.
  
  > examine the quim
  Quiet quims, buried in burlap. Do they exist when you cannot see
  them? Do they not exist? Do they exist in some sort of superposition of existing and not existing? Similarly, do YOU exist when master isn't looking at you? Alas, if only master would tell you the answer.
  
  > About you
  Furry, fuzzy, fizzy, fazzy, silly little thing.
  
  > examine the bridge
  Rising, rising, up and arched and falling, falling, down and ground, streaming water underneath, troll above the neath.
  
  > examine troll
  Mountainous monster, limber of limb above and lumbering below -
  meaning waving five arms and walking slow. In eye and face he knows
  no glow, so there grows a menacing show of teeth in a
  twice-upside-down frown. His arms wave to alarm the far and harm the near.
  
  > ask Troll about the toll
  "To pass, cross, or otherwise transverse my bridge you must, without loss, provide a smidge to me of that which - in the whole universe - which is most precious."
  
  > give quim to Troll
  Never, never, never in all of ever would these limbs let loose of
  these quims! Oh, precious quims, little quims, always, always quiet little quims, safe in the holding of this furry little thing.
  
  > Go west
  You are outside of master's hut, and, for now, gut. Above is the wide and clear purple sky, north and south out and past ken ruffle gently spears of grass. The one and single road in all existence begins (not ends; it's master's instance) at master's door westward and pursues
  the horizon eastward.
  
  > go west
  Unfinished! Incomplete! Undone! Partway! Master must not see you with the bag of quims! Master must know the whole project is done
  else there's no fun. Run, run east with quims, return only when delivered, only then.
  
  > What is a the quim
  Look, man, I don't know either. It's just a MacGuffin.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  > go east
  The droll toll troll stands in your way and demands his pay. Under
  the bridge streams a stream.
  
  > Kiss Troll
  You can't see any such thing.
  
  In a flurry of fuzzy furry fur you the cover the monster - his leg, at least, the most of the beast you could reach, but in your embrace the troll's droll face brightened, his eyes enlightened.
  
  "Ah - ah! Furry little thing, silly fuzzy little thing, this is fitting payment, I only lament I'm so late to relent of the cold dull resistance of distance. For this treasure, please pass at your pleasure."
  
  > Go east
  You stroll by the toll troll.
  
  Elation! The quim delivery station! A box atop a pole, inside the
  box a hole, facing the westward side at just the height right for
  fuzzy furry little things. Strange - the range of the road runs
  longer than master told - master didn't say it didn't but master
  didn't say it did, but the road goes ever on, through and among the throng red and waving east to meet with the horizon.
  
  > Go east
  Master did not say to go along that way; master said - it's in your head - deliver quims, return without them. Return, said master; what disaster falls upon the one who rolls along beyond where the end belongs? Master's quims, you could not take them - unless you did,
  but what then? Road, the road, eastward rolls the road, a stretch forever, past the end, with the quims... A whim, a whim.
  
  > put the quims in the hole
  In go quims, quims go in, quims in bag and bag in box and little furry thing is good furry thing, good and fuzzy and pleasing master.
  
  > examine the hole
  From the center of the road rises a rectangular prism of wood, fitted on the top a box, as tightly as it could. In the box, in it's side, resides a hole big enough for the whole bag of quims. In fact, the hole who once lacked of quims is now stuffed to the brim with them.
  
  > look at bag
  Quiet quims, buried in burlap. Do they exist when you cannot see
  them? Do they not exist? Do they exist in some sort of superposition of existing and not existing? Similarly, do YOU exist when master isn't looking at you? Alas, if only master would tell you the answer.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  Empty hands, empty, fuzzy, tiny little hands.
  
  > Go west
  Back running to master, faster and faster, over the bridge and down
  the road to the old abode to hold pride in you eye for master to spy and offer - perhaps - praise of your worth,
  
  > go to the north
  Passwords
  Troll Humor
  Superweapon
  Science!
  
  > Go north
  > Passwords
  Troll Humor
  Superweapon
  Science!
  
  > Go north
  Passwords
  > Troll Humor
  Superweapon
  Science!
  What if you took various pieces of the troll - you know, as souvenirs?
  
  Singing
  Passwords
  > Troll Humor
  Superweapon
  Science!
  
  > go to the north
  Passwords
  Troll Humor
  > Superweapon
  Science!
  The troll's eyes are actually "laser-sighted death ray emitters".
  
  Singing
  Passwords
  Troll Humor
  > Superweapon
  Science!
  
  > Go north
  Passwords
  Troll Humor
  Superweapon
  > Science!
  Trolls are stereotyped as being unintelligent, but our friend here actually has a degree in elementary particle physics.
  
  Singing
  Passwords
  Troll Humor
  Superweapon
  > Science!
  
  > go east
  A lighthearted excursion in the style of the Ambiguous Adventures by N.C. Hunter Hayden
  
  Oh, glorious, wondrous, rapturous land! The beauty is more than you can understand. Master told of sky - master does not lie - but little furry servant you, you could not know the wonder true. But now you see, you see in glee and praise master's mercy to let you free - not free to leave, silly fuzzy thing, but free to be outside in the wide under-sky, on the road from master's abode to who knows. Master
  knows, and you he told: eastward lies the quim delivery station to which (to your elation) you are to move your fleet and furry feet and inject, input, insert every quim without qualm, lest master withold balm.
  
  You are outside of master's hut, and, for now, gut. Above is the wide and clear purple sky, north and south out and past ken ruffle gently spears of grass. The one and single road in all existence begins (not ends; it's master's instance) at master's door westward and pursues
  the horizon eastward.
  
  > go to the east
  First time farthest from master's hut, first time farthest from
  master. Slowly, first, then faster and faster furry feet patter along the quiet road, hands to hold gently the load.
  
  What's this? 'Road' wouldn't be a miss, but this rises steeply over a river - a bridge, plainly, from hither to thither, with you hither and the goal thither. Between these two places places himself a looming, long-limbed lobster - I mean Robster - I mean mobster - I mean momster - I mean monster. On his face is placed a frown twice upside-down,
  and in his eye you espy a flicker that died. "To pass, cross, or otherwise my bridge transverse you must, without loss, provide a
  smidge to me of that - in the whole universe - which is most
  precious."
  
  The droll toll troll stands in your way and demands his pay. Under
  the bridge streams a stream.
  
  > take the eyes
  No, no, proper grammar would be: take ME.
  
  > look at the eye
  Empty, unsparkable, unremarkable holes leading to void needing of
  soul.
  
  > take yourself
  No no no, silly furry thing, to master does that belong, along with
  the soul inside.
  
  > examine the teeth
  Little furry things do not do such things. Would you add misery to what he sees already with his four eyes sad? He has enough bad.
  
  Pointy pointy, snip snip, sharp sharp 'tween lip and lip.
  
  > get the teeth
  You flunked out of dental school first semester.
  
  > Xyzzy
  I got nothing. Sorry.
  
  > Xyzzy
  You expect me to come up with something witty, don't you? I really
  put a lot of effort into the IF as a whole, so just enjoy that, will you?
  
  > Xyzzy
  Augh! Something witty and cleaver and funny, huh? Well, guess what?
  I don't want to.
  
  > Xyzzy
  Alright, fine. How's this for witty and cleaver? The quims explode and you die.
  
  > Sing
  La la la la la la lu la.
  
  > Sing
  BATMAN!
  
  > examine the grass
  Red, red, red the waves roll forever, with wind through leaves in dodges and weaves, oceans of unfathomed depth and unmeasured breadth unbroken but by rising stones standing alone.
  
  > examine the stones
  like breaching whales out of the infinite, sunny ocean of grasses.
  
  > take the stones
  Too far, too far, silly furry thing, you would be lost, lost, lost.
  
  > examine the sky
  No clouds, no green pyramidal clouds today. A perfect purple day.
  
  > examine the road
  White road, right road, onward to success; eastward leading, still proceeding - guiding you, you guess (master wasn't clear, and master's isn't here - to ask - master said east, and thither the road - at least, you think).
  
  > Kiss Troll
  In a flurry of fuzzy furry fur you the cover the monster - his leg, at least, the most of the beast you could reach, but in your embrace the troll's droll face brightened, his eyes enlightened.
  
  "Ah - ah! Furry little thing, silly fuzzy little thing, this is fitting payment, I only lament I'm so late to relent of the cold dull resistance of distance. For this treasure, please pass at your pleasure."
  
  > examine the stream
  Bubbling, babbling, burbling brook, winding and weaving with hooks and crooks. From far to the south to far in the north, running and streaming, 'round bends, there careening. Gold-colored water from somewhere to elsewhere, free frolicking through the red sea of leaves.
  
  > go to the south
  No, no, no, not only too little, but too brittle of mind; only the road, grass-lined, for your furry little feet. Too quick to pick the wayward way and away your way back home does fly. Try, try to stay straight on the street, straight with furry feet east and east until you meet, as master is fair, the whole goal of this affair.
  
  > Go east
  You stroll by the toll troll.
  
  Elation! The quim delivery station! A box atop a pole, inside the
  box a hole, facing the westward side at just the height right for
  fuzzy furry little things. Strange - the range of the road runs
  longer than master told - master didn't say it didn't but master
  didn't say it did, but the road goes ever on, through and among the throng red and waving east to meet with the horizon.
  
  > Go east
  Quims delivered, yet you shiver to wonder to wander away from master. To return did master intend - would you with that contend? The road runs down alone, along the sides the rise of red, the plain moves out and out, empty, no master, no quims, only wind, wind, wind through red...
  
  > go to the east
  East and on and past all ken, past all memory of kith or quim, through the endless plain, master from your mine long waned,
  
  > Kiss
  (the Droll Toll Troll)
  In a flurry of fuzzy furry fur you the cover the monster - his leg, at least, the most of the beast you could reach, but in your embrace the troll's droll face brightened, his eyes enlightened.
  
  "Ah - ah! Furry little thing, silly fuzzy little thing, this is fitting payment, I only lament I'm so late to relent of the cold dull resistance of distance. For this treasure, please pass at your pleasure."
  
  > Go east
  You stroll by the toll troll.
  
  Elation! The quim delivery station! A box atop a pole, inside the
  box a hole, facing the westward side at just the height right for
  fuzzy furry little things. Strange - the range of the road runs
  longer than master told - master didn't say it didn't but master
  didn't say it did, but the road goes ever on, through and among the throng red and waving east to meet with the horizon.
  
  > Go east
  Eastward onward rolling through the plain, ocean's red rising, waving, rolling