text: [Themes: Zorkian, Humor, grue]
  
  > describe your surroundings
  I'm sitting on the bus, about four rows back. It's fairly crowded
  - lots of people going to work. Outside the window, I can see the city rolling past.
  
  > wait for a while
  Time passes...
  
  An old man in a battered raincoat sits down next to me. He has a chicken sitting on his head.
  
  > look at chicken
  The chicken is watching me in a way that makes me kind of uncomfortable. It's like she knows something that I don't.
  
  > Sleep
  I've heard that horses sleep standing up. I can't imagine how they're able to do that. I sure couldn't!
  
  > take the chicken
  The chicken gives me an ominous glance as if to say, "Don't even think about it."
  
  The old man sighs. "It grieves me to see the changes taking place in this town," he remarks. It sounds like he's trying to start a conversation. It always weirds me out a bit when strangers do that.
  
  > ask the man about the town
  He nods sadly. "I have lived in this city for many years, and it saddens me to watch the gradual loss of everything that once defined its character. The decline of the railroads... the disappearance, one by one, of stores and restaurants I have known and loved... and now the old Frobworks factory... It makes me begin to feel old."
  
  > ask the man about the frobworks
  "You have not heard? The Frobworks factory has been sold. There is a great deal of mystery surrounding the new owners."
  
  > ask the man about the new owners
  "Their identities are a closely guarded secret. Few seem to know, and those who know will not say. There have, of course, been many rumors. But perhaps it is better if I do not speak of things which I do not actually know."
  
  > ask the man about the identities
  He looks uncomfortable. "There have been many things whispered. Unpleasant things. There are those who believe... But no, I will not say. Please understand, I know nothing except rumors and gossip, and those may be nothing more than the wild imaginings of an overactive mind."
  
  > Wait
  Time passes...
  
  > ask the man about the chicken
  "Dharmawati is resting at present. Perhaps in a little while she will feel ready to perform."
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  I have clean pants (being worn), clean socks (being worn), clean underwear (being worn), a clean shirt (being worn), a pair of shoes (being worn), a coat (being worn), a wristwatch (being worn), a wallet, and keys. The coat pocket seems to contain a book of famous quotations.
  
  > examine the wallet
  This was a birthday present a couple of years ago. It's a fairly ordinary leather wallet.
  
  > open the wallet
  In the wallet I see a driver's license and a five zorkmid bill.
  
  The bus reaches my stop. The man with the chicken on his head stands up to let me out. As I squeeze past him, I feel him press something into my palm. I start to raise my hand to see what it is, but he stops me and shakes his head.
  
  The chicken watches me as I leave the bus. All the way off, I can feel her eyes on the back of my neck.
  
  Only when I'm standing on the sidewalk and the bus is pulling away do I look down to see what he has given me. It's a tiny flashlight, meant to go on a keychain. What on earth...? I look back to the bus, but it's already halfway down the block, and I can't see anything through the windows. All I can think of is a quote by Samuel Beckett: "He brings light, as only the great dare to bring light, to the issueless predicament of existence."
  
  I head on into the factory. It's just a few minutes till starting time, so there are lots of other people arriving, punching timecards and heading to their stations. I still feel a bit weirded out by that guy on the bus, and the chicken on his head, and him giving me this flashlight like it was some big secret. I take a deep breath as I step out onto the factory floor. Everything's normal here, just like it always has been. I wave to some of the other guys as I walk past them toward my station, at the very start of the assembly line. It's good to be home.
  
  > look
  I'm standing at my station on the assembly line. A conveyor belt comes out of the wall to the east, and travels west down the middle of the room.
  
  > examine the belt
  The conveyor belt comes out of the wall to the east, and continues down the middle of the room. It is not currently moving.
  
  > wait for a while
  Time passes...
  
  A bell rings loudly. With a clanking sound, the conveyor belt comes to life.
  
  > examine the belt
  The conveyor belt comes out of the wall to the east, and continues down the middle of the room. It is currently moving.
  
  With a quiet clop!, a green widget appears out of a chute in the wall and lands in front of me, just to the side of the conveyor belt.
  
  > put the widget on the belt
  That isn't ready to go on the conveyor belt yet.
  
  Clop! A red wodget appears out of the chute and lands beside the widget.
  
  > get all
  green widget: Taken.
  red wodget: Taken.
  
  > look at the widget
  It's a bright green widget, made of plastic, with a square peg sticking up out of it. I'm an expert with these things!
  
  > look at the wodget
  A red plastic wodget, with a square hole in the middle.
  
  > put widget in the wodget
  I fit the square peg of the green widget into the square hole of the red wodget. They snap together with a satisfying click! to form a perfect red-green widget-wodget complex, all ready to put on the conveyor belt for transport on to parts unknown! God, I love my job!
  
  > Inventory
  I have clean pants (being worn), clean socks (being worn), clean underwear (being worn), a clean shirt (being worn), a pair of shoes (being worn), a coat (being worn), a wristwatch (being worn), a wallet, keys, a flashlight, and a widget-wodget complex. The coat pocket seems to contain a book of famous quotations.
  
  > put the complex on the belt
  I put the widget-wodget complex on the conveyor belt, which carries it off down the line.
  
  Clop! A green widget appears out of the chute.
  
  > get the widget
  Taken.
  
  Clop! A red wodget appears out of the chute.
  
  > put the widget in the wodget
  Click! Another perfect widget-wodget complex, made and ready!
  
  > put the complex on the belt
  I put the widget-wodget complex on the conveyor belt, which carries it off down the line.
  
  Clop! A blue widget appears out of the chute. Huh? Blue?
  
  > look at the blue
  It looks just like every other widget I've ever seen... only totally different. Same plastic, same square peg... but it's blue!
  
  Clop! A red wodget appears out of the chute.
  
  > put the widget in the wodget
  Ralph Waldo Emerson said that a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, and he knew what he was talking about. He knew that sometimes the widgets would be green, and sometimes they'd be blue.
  So I've been doing this job for eight years, and every widget I've ever seen has been green. That doesn't mean the next one won't be blue. You've got to just take what comes and go on with your job. Emerson understood that, and that's why he was such a great genius.
  
  I fit the blue widget into the red wodget. They go together with an... almost satisfying... clack!.
  
  > put the complex on the belt
  I put the widget-wodget complex on the conveyor belt, which carries it off down the line.
  
  Clop! A blue widget appears out of the chute.
  
  > get the widget
  Taken.
  
  Clop! A red wodget appears out of the chute.
  
  > put the widget in the wodget
  I put the peg of the blue widget into the hole of the red wodget and... wait a minute! It won't go in! Hey - this wodget has a round hole! What's going on here? What the...! OK, wait... just a second... don't panic. Take a deep breath. It's going to be OK. Everything's going to be OK.
  
  Fine, so things change. The world is like that. Widgets used to be green and now they're grue. I mean blue. And wodgets used to have square holes and now they have round ones. That's OK. Round is a fine shape for a hole. I just have to put the peg into it anyway.
  
  But it won't fit! No! I can't deal with this! Someone must have made a mistake! They can't expect me to put these together. I just can't do it. No one can do it! I've got to find someone and tell them they've made a mistake. Then the holes will go back to being square, and everything will be OK again.
  
  That's odd... something seems to be happening further down the assembly line. I can't tell what's going on, but there's a lot of shouting, and I can see people running. Suddenly there's a clank, and the conveyor belt comes to a stop!
  
  > go west
  Perhaps you're wondering how I know the conveyor belt runs east to west. Well, I checked. "If you don't know where you're going, you probably won't get there." I don't know who said that. I saw it on a poster once. That very same day, I went out and got this super-durable, patent-pending outdoorsman's wrist-watch with built in compass, and since then I've always known exactly which way I was going.
  
  As I walk along the conveyor belt, I can see the room emptying out fast. By the time I reach the far end, most of the workers are gone, and those who are left seem to be heading for the door. Mr. Biggs, the president of the factory, is standing next to the doorway and shouting at them. He almost looks like he's going to step in their way and try to block the exit, but he knows he'd get trampled if he tried.
  
  This is the west end of the main floor of the factory. The
  conveyor belt passes down the length of the room and disappears into the wall to the west. A large set of double doors leads north to the lobby.
  
  > look at Biggs
  For some reason, Mr. Biggs always makes me think of a bulldog. He can't be much more than five feet tall, and you always feel like he's about to attack you. No one messes with Mr. Biggs. I mean no one.
  
  Mr. Biggs glances up at me. "Get back to work!" he shouts.
  "There's absolutely nothing to be alarmed about! The company has some new owners, and they're just making a few changes. That's all there is..." He breaks off and lunges at the door in a desperate attempt to keep the last of the workers from getting away. He stumbles over his own feet, barely avoids falling, and collides with the wall. "Come BACK here!" he shouts, dashing out the door after them. It swings shut behind him, and the room becomes almost silent.
  
  > Go north
  This is the lobby of the factory building. There's a potted plant sitting in the corner, only I looked at it closely once and found that it's made of plastic. There are doors going north to the parking lot and south to the main floor of the factory. There are hallways to east and west.
  
  > examine the plant
  I guess a plant that's made of plastic is a lot easier to take care of than a regular one. You never have to water it, just dust it once in a while, and it doesn't get sick or turn brown or anything like that, though if someone fell on it and broke it or something it wouldn't grow back the way a regular plant would. But then I guess you could just buy a new one. I wonder what company makes these things. If I ever leave this place, I ought to go and work for them. It sounds like a great business to be in!
  
  > Go east
  I know Mr. Biggs said there was nothing to worry about, but I'm not sure I believe him. I never trust anything the first time someone says it. I learned that from a guy called Lewis Carroll. He said, "What I tell you three times is true." What he meant is that everyone says a lot of stuff. Some of it's true and some of it isn't. If you want to really know, you've got to ask them again to make sure they mean what they say. Otherwise, they might just be saying it and not really mean it.
  
  I'm standing in a hallway that runs between the lobby, to the west, and the end of the building, to the east. North is the door to Mr. Biggs office, which is currently closed.
  
  > look at the door
  It's closed.
  
  > open it
  Perhaps I should knock on the door before going in? I don't want to upset Mr. Biggs by just barging in.
  
  > knock on door
  I knock carefully on the door. A muffled voice inside says, "Yes? Come in."
  
  > go north
  (Opening the door)
  Mr. Biggs' Office
  This has got to be one of the most boring offices in the world. No pictures on the walls, no fake plants, nothing. Just a big desk in the middle of the room. There aren't even any chairs, except the one Mr. Biggs sits in, so you have to stand up the whole time you're talking to him. You'd think he didn't like having people come see him or something. The office door, to the south, is open.
  
  Mr. Biggs is sitting behind the desk, looking at me impatiently.
  
  > talk to Biggs
  What do you want to ask it about?
  
  > Owners
  "You stay out of this!" he snarls at me, shooting up out of the chair like he's going to attack. Then he seems to catch himself. "Um, the new owners wish to remain, um, anonymous. Out of respect for their...um...wishes, I cannot say more."
  
  He sighs and puts down the piece of paper he was reading. "Yes Smithers? What is it you want?" Smithers?