text: [Themes: Slice of life]
  
  > look around
  Outside dining (next to the Pro Shop)
  This is what it's all about: stale food and staler gossip. However, despite all that, the outside dining offered by Pine Meadows is really the only thing that interests you at the club. The tables are full; the place is busy. The members don't seem to be eating all that much though, no doubt saving their appetites for the banquet tonight. To the west is the server's entrance to the kitchen where all manner of food is prepared. The dining area extends to the east, and to the south and southeast are the garden path and tennis court respectively.
  
  A group of women sit here playing bridge and chatting.
  
  Cynthia waits impatiently for her meal.
  
  > look at the wall
  That is beneath your concern.
  
  > go northeast
  "Oh, off to see Keith, are we?" Cynthia says, eyes burrowing in to you.
  
  Normally, you wouldn't be cowed by Cynthia's acid tongue but with that film floating around, you don't want to chance it.
  
  > Go southwest
  "Aww, leaving so soon? Well we must do this again sometime," Cynthia calls out after you.
  
  Serving as little more than a junction, the path here leads from the garden in the southwest to the outside dining area in the north and northeast. The club itself lies to the west and the tennis court to the east. To the southeast is the pool, but it is closed for the season.
  
  > go north
  Outside dining (next to the kitchen)
  This is what it's all about: stale food and staler gossip. However, despite all that, the outside dining offered by Pine Meadows is really the only thing that interests you at the club. The tables are full; the place is busy. The members don't seem to be eating all that much though, no doubt saving their appetites for the banquet tonight. To the west is the server's entrance to the kitchen where all manner of food is prepared. The dining area extends to the east, and to the south and southeast are the garden path and tennis court respectively.
  
  A waiter bustles about, tray of wine glasses in hand, trying desperately to keep up with drink orders from demanding patrons.
  
  Oh great, Cecilia Winnecott is here, the most frightfully irritating woman you have ever had the displeasure to meet. You attempt to duck out before she sees you but it's too late.
  
  "Yoohoo, Julia! Over here." As if you could miss her. Her bright fuchsia pantsuit practically sears your retinas. Cissy sashays up to you, her jacket barely able to contain those three Danishes you saw her wolf down this morning.
  
  > examine Cecilia
  A hundred-eighty pound woman packed in a hundred-sixty pound Chanel reject. You've got to hand it to her though, all that fuchsia really does detract from what it covers.
  
  "Oh, Julia. It's been ages. You simply must see our pictures from Tuscany," she says, and before you can decline, she pulls a stack of photos from her purse.
  
  > examine the photos
  Why does anyone think people want to see their pictures? Well, since you're looking, I guess that's a stupid question.
  
  "Here's my eldest, Tyler, isn't he handsome?" Cissy croons, showing you a photo of a rather dirty little boy with a finger up his nose.
  
  > get the photo
  You can see them as much as you like from here, which isn't much at all.
  
  "Oh ooh, here's Madison. Isn't she darling?"
  
  "She's absolutely breathtaking," you say.
  
  > Search photos
  You find nothing of interest.
  
  "And this is our villa, isn't it just to die for?"
  
  Frankly, you agree. You'd die before setting foot in such a dismal little hovel.
  
  > Smell cissy
  Your nose is overrun with both Dolce and Gabbana.
  
  "Aww, look at little Aidan. Isn't he a treasure?"
  
  My God, doesn't this woman ever stop breeding?
  
  > ask Cissy about Cynthia
  "So what do you think of Cynthia?"
  
  "She's a dreadful gossip, that woman." Cissy leans in a bit closer, "Who, by the way, is going back for another collagen treatment in a week."
  
  > ask Cissy about Beverly
  "What do you think of Beverly?"
  
  She shudders. "Ugh, don't mention that horrible woman to me."
  
  Cissy recently found out all the bad things Beverly says behind her back. Fortunately, she thinks Beverly is the only one who says them.
  
  > Smell cissy
  Your nose is overrun with both Dolce and Gabbana.
  
  Cissy continues to prattle on about her oh so fascinating life.
  
  > ask Cissy about the outfit
  Cissy has the memory span of a goldfish. Unless it was related directly to what she's talking about, she would forget her own name.
  
  > ask Cissy about Frank
  "What do you think of Frank?"
  
  "Oh, you've got yourself a keeper there. He really does worship the ground you walk on."
  
  You must admit: that's nice. It makes him all the easier to walk all over.
  
  > ask Cissy about Keith
  "I suppose you've heard about Keith and I."
  
  "Oh, that. Well, I wasn't going to bring it up; it's vulgar, really. Besides, I don't believe a word of it."
  
  > ask Cissy about the photos
  You subtilely feel Cissy out about the photo, but she doesn't get it.
  
  "They're spectacular, aren't they? I took them all myself," she says, admiring a blurry photo of what looks to be an ape, or her husband.
  
  > ask Cissy about the kids
  You make a passing comment about her kids.
  
  "Children are an absolute treasure, aren't they?" she says, looking at her photos fondly. "Really Julia, you simply must have one one of these days."
  
  Any thought you ever had of having a child went up in smoke after seeing her 'charming' brood.
  
  > ask Cissy about the banquet
  You mention the banquet to Cissy.
  
  "Oh yes, you have that speech as Philanthropist of the Year, don't you? Really, Julia, you are such an inspiration. You could really teach these nouveaus," she glances around the dining area disdainfully, "a thing or two about noblesse obligé."
  
  Where does she get off with that tone? Her family made its money from inventing the egg carton.
  
  > ask Cecilia about the egg carton
  "Didn't your family make its money in egg cartons?"
  
  "Well you know my great-grandfather, Sir Arthur Chesterbald Winnecott, invented them, right? Oh he was a brilliant man."
  
  Cissy proceeds to relate to you how the modern egg-carton evolved through a series of steps. First in boxes, then in little cardboard cups, and finally the styrofoam ones we've grown to know and love. Somehow, through the magic that is Cissy, she manages to make it more boring than you thought possible.
  
  > look at the waiter
  Tuxedoes aren't active wear, and the waiter exemplifies perfectly why this is so. His cummerbund prevents him from turning his waist; his whole ensemble clings to him with sweat. In fact, his bow tie seems so tight that his eyes bug out and his face is flushed.
  
  Cissy continues to prattle on about her oh so fascinating life.
  
  > ask Cissy about the gossip
  "I suppose you've heard about Keith and I."
  
  "Oh, that. Well, I wasn't going to bring it up; it's vulgar, really. Besides, I don't believe a word of it."
  
  > go west
  "Umm, Julia, hon. That's the kitchen," says Cissy, giving you a peculiar look. You can't blame her. Most people, if they want to complain, just scream at the waiters in front of everyone.
  
  > go east
  "I'm dreadfully sorry, Cissy, but I have some things to do," you say, rubbing your temples in attempt to ward off the migraine you know is coming.
  
  "Ciao!" Please, one month in Tuscany and she thinks she's Monica Bellucci.
  
  Outside dining (next to the Pro Shop)
  This is what it's all about: stale food and staler gossip. However, despite all that, the outside dining offered by Pine Meadows is really the only thing that interests you at the club. The tables are full; the place is busy. The members don't seem to be eating all that much though, no doubt saving their appetites for the banquet tonight. To the west is the server's entrance to the kitchen where all manner of food is prepared. The dining area extends to the east, and to the south and southeast are the garden path and tennis court respectively.
  
  A group of women sit here playing bridge and chatting.
  
  Cynthia glares at the nouveaus surrounding her.
  
  > ask Cynthia about the receptionist
  "Really, Julia, can't we talk about something a little more interesting?".
  
  > ask Cynthia about the club manager
  "What do you think of Pine Meadows?"
  
  "It's a shame what's happened to the place," she says, almost wistfully. "Nouveaus." She rolls her eyes in the direction of the diners.
  
  > ask Cynthia about Charles
  "What do you think of Charles?"
  
  "Really, Julia. The only thing worse than being a bore is talking about one."
  
  > examine the time
  Looking closely at your watch, you see that it is just after five.
  
  > Go southwest
  "Aww, leaving so soon? Well we must do this again sometime," Cynthia calls out after you.
  
  Serving as little more than a junction, the path here leads from the garden in the southwest to the outside dining area in the north and northeast. The club itself lies to the west and the tennis court to the east. To the southeast is the pool, but it is closed for the season.
  
  > Go southwest
  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.
  
  Melissa Stratham, wife to Johnathan Stratham, sits here on a bench, delicately leafing through a paperback novel.
  
  As she sees you enter, she looks up and grins impishly. "Oh, Julia," she says, closing her book for a moment. "I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you preferred to do your hoeing in the basement."
  
  > Smell Melissa
  You raise your nose ever so slightly and sniff. Chanel #5, definitely the same as in the hall.
  
  > ask Melissa about Frank
  "So what do you think of my husband?"
  
  "Well he will certainly spice up the banquet. He is going to be there, isn't he? It just won't be any fun without him."
  
  > ask Melissa about Keith
  "I suppose you heard about Keith and I."
  
  "Oh that, you know how this place is. News spreads fast."
  
  > ask Melissa about the photo
  "Have you heard of a certain photo making it about the club?"
  
  "Oh yes, I heard someone had taken a photo of you as you were, indisposed. There's just no privacy any more is there?"
  
  > ask Melissa about the perfume
  "That's a charming fragrance, Melissa. Whatever is it?"
  
  "It's Chanel #5, do you like it?"
  
  "Well, no. But then again, I have taste," you reply snidely.
  
  > ask Melissa about the hall
  "What were you doing in the basement? And don't deny it, it reeked of Chanel, just like you."
  
  "Really, Julia. This paranoia is most unbecoming. A lot of people wear Chanel #5," Melissa says, shifting in her seat slightly.
  
  > Examine book
  It's the latest Danielle Steel: something about a wealthy heiress and a stableboy.
  
  > ask Melissa about the book
  "That's quite a book you have there."
  
  "Do you like it? I thought you might. It's about a wealthy heiress and her affair with the stableboy." She pauses, thoughtfully. "Hey, perhaps you could write your own. You know, update it for the modern world. I'm sure you have enough material."
  
  > ask Melissa about Charles
  "That Charles is something else, isn't he?"
  
  "Don't get me started. That man is such a bore. I dread each time I have to pay my dues and listen to him speak."
  
  > ask Melissa about Beverly
  "You've taken quite a shine to Beverly, haven't you?"
  
  "Well yes I have. It was so kind of her to take me under her wing. Now there's a woman who knows how to get what she wants."
  
  > ask Melissa about Cynthia
  "What do you know of Cynthia?"
  
  "I'd watch your step around her. She's a sly one."
  
  > ask Melissa about Cissy
  "My God, did you see what Cissy was wearing?"
  
  "Oh, that woman. She just does not know interesting photography. Cynthia on the other hand..." Melissa lets her words trail off deliberately.
  
  > ask Melissa about the receptionist
  "Please, Julia. I'm trying to read." Melissa says, barely glancing up.