text: [Themes: Fantasy, Children's, parody]
  
  > go downwards
  *** You Can't Beat The Real Thing ***
  
  This demo is now over, but there's Always Coca-Cola!
  
  Of all the places in the world to obtain the sweet goodness of Coca-Cola products, this has to be your favorite. The Coke machine dominates the landscape, resting snugly against the perfect brick wall next to the unbroken sidewalk, which seems to lead to untold possibilities, their potential unlocked by the mere presence of Coca-Cola.
  
  > look at Machine
  This Coke machine has served you well. It is always full, always has exact change, always operates smoothly, and always keeps its assortment of Coca-Cola products chilled at exactly the right temperature. Right now, though, the buttons don't seem to have the same labels they used to. The 'Select!' light is still on, meaning you can push the following buttons:
  
  **Curses**
  **Adventure** <Empty>
  **Planetfall**
  **Hitchhiker**
  **Grip**
  **A Bear's Night Out**
  
  > pull Machine
  It is fixed in place. Unlike your refreshing Coke.
  
  > press the curses
  Your surroundings melt away, and you find yourself in a completely new place!
  
  This is a vast underground station in great rectangular caverns, deep beneath the streets. You are outside the ticket gates, near a flight of steps back up to the city, and since you haven't a ticket you're likely to stay that way.
  
  Behind a kiosk, a surly-looking man is selling guide books and maps.
  
  > About yourself
  As good-looking as ever.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  a crumpled piece of paper
  a can of Coca-Cola
  
  > examine paper
  Things to do:
  
  1. Find map.
  2. Phone airport to check parking.
  3. Health forms...
  
  and so on. Let's face it, 1. is more enticing than the rest put together.
  
  > look at the man
  His jumper is unstriped, and there are no onions around his neck. Nonetheless he has a rather Gallic, disgruntled look to him. Perhaps he's a former Socialist cabinet minister.
  
  > examine Coke
  Truly, all of your desires can be assuaged with the refreshing goodness inside this can.
  
  > ask the man about the map
  "Non." And he folds his arms defiantly. Perhaps he has no such thing.
  
  > give Coke to the man
  The man snatches the Coke from you, sneers, and drains it in one huge, unhurried swallow.
  
  He glares at you for a moment, and then a change ripples across his features. "Merci," he croaks in a voice unaccustomed to politeness. He shudders, and then shakes himself like a dog exiting water.
  
  > give Coke to the man
  He stares down at his jumper in disbelief, and rips it off, revealing a New York Giants T-shirt underneath. He shakes his head, clears his throat, and tries again.
  
  "Thanks, buddy!" he exclaims, in what is manifestly a New Jersey, rather than a French, accent. "This is in-freakin'-credible! You've cured me of being a freakin' Frog! Holy freak! You freakin' RULE!"
  
  "Oh, you wanted the freakin' map?"
  
  He shrugs and hands you the map of Paris. You feel a shiver ripple through the multiverse as the ancestral Curse of the Meldrews is lifted.
  
  "I dunno why the freak you'd wanna go there, though. It's all covered in freakin' dog crap, and worse than that, it's full of freakin' Frogs! No, you need someplace better than that."
  
  He scratches his head, encountering his beret, which he flings into the darkness.
  
  "I know!" he shouts. "At-freakin'-lanta! Birthplace of Coca-Cola! Only the greatest freakin' drink in the history of the freakin' world! Yeah! C'mon! I got a cousin Vinnie who knows a guy who knows a guy who can get you a sweet freakin' deal on the trip!"
  
  Arm in arm, the two of you leave the Underground behind. After a fantastic vacation in Atlanta, the highlight of which is (of course) the "World of Coke" exhibit, you somehow find yourself...
  
  Of all the places in the world to obtain the sweet goodness of Coca-Cola products, this has to be your favorite. The Coke machine dominates the landscape, resting snugly against the perfect brick wall next to the unbroken sidewalk, which seems to lead to untold possibilities, their potential unlocked by the mere presence of Coca-Cola.
  
  You can only do that to something animate.
  
  > Fuck
  How can you be so upset when you have a Coke?
  
  > Darn
  You sound like someone who drinks Pepsi.
  
  > kill yourself
  Violence doesn't solve anything. But Coke does!
  
  > examine Machine
  You can't see any such thing. Maybe you meant to refer to your Coke?
  
  > give Coke to the man
  The man snatches the Coke from you, sneers, and drains it in one huge, unhurried swallow.
  
  He glares at you for a moment, and then a change ripples across his features. "Merci," he croaks in a voice unaccustomed to politeness. He shudders, and then shakes himself like a dog exiting water.
  
  He stares down at his jumper in disbelief, and rips it off, revealing a New York Giants T-shirt underneath. He shakes his head, clears his throat, and tries again.
  
  "Thanks, buddy!" he exclaims, in what is manifestly a New Jersey, rather than a French, accent. "This is in-freakin'-credible! You've cured me of being a freakin' Frog! Holy freak! You freakin' RULE!"
  
  "Oh, you wanted the freakin' map?"
  
  He shrugs and hands you the map of Paris. You feel a shiver ripple through the multiverse as the ancestral Curse of the Meldrews is lifted.
  
  "I dunno why the freak you'd wanna go there, though. It's all covered in freakin' dog crap, and worse than that, it's full of freakin' Frogs! No, you need someplace better than that."
  
  He scratches his head, encountering his beret, which he flings into the darkness.
  
  "I know!" he shouts. "At-freakin'-lanta! Birthplace of Coca-Cola! Only the greatest freakin' drink in the history of the freakin' world! Yeah! C'mon! I got a cousin Vinnie who knows a guy who knows a guy who can get you a sweet freakin' deal on the trip!"
  
  Arm in arm, the two of you leave the Underground behind. After a fantastic vacation in Atlanta, the highlight of which is (of course) the "World of Coke" exhibit, you somehow find yourself...
  
  Of all the places in the world to obtain the sweet goodness of Coca-Cola products, this has to be your favorite. The Coke machine dominates the landscape, resting snugly against the perfect brick wall next to the unbroken sidewalk, which seems to lead to untold possibilities, their potential unlocked by the mere presence of Coca-Cola.
  
  > look at Machine
  This Coke machine has served you well. It is always full, always has exact change, always operates smoothly, and always keeps its assortment of Coca-Cola products chilled at exactly the right temperature. Right now, though, the buttons don't seem to have the same labels they used to. The 'Select!' light is still on, meaning you can push the following buttons:
  
  **Curses** <Empty>
  **Adventure** <Empty>
  **Planetfall**
  **Hitchhiker**
  **Grip**
  **A Bear's Night Out**
  
  > Sing
  "I'd like to teach the world to sing
  In perfect harmony.
  I'd like to buy the world a Coke,
  And keep it company!
  
  > press the grip
  Your surroundings melt away, and you find yourself in a completely new place.
  
  Rain and mud. And the taste of something, sweet in your mouth.
  
  Those are your first solid memories. Rain pouring down on your head, filling your eyes. Mud beneath your feet, filling your shoes. And, of course, there's always Coca-Cola -- or is there? A sudden feeling of loss sweeps over you, and a chill wind cuts through your clothes with ease.
  
  Shelter would be a good beginning.
  
  The trees around you are spaced far enough to provide little shelter, allowing the stinging rain to pelt you. A grey mist conceals everything past four meters.
  
  > go east
  You strike off in that direction, but soon become disoriented by the rain.
  
  Once the field might have been covered in grass. Now the grass is but a memory. Mud covers the ground in its place, fed by the constant rain.
  
  Buried almost to its chin in the mud is a human head.
  The head glances northeast for a moment. "Just a sip, that's all I ask. One little sip of Coke."
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You are carrying:
  a bottle of cola
  
  "So thirsty ... So, so thirsty ..."
  
  > kick the head
  The head's eyes widen as you draw your foot back. "Terry, no, please, oh God you can't--" His cries are cut short as your foot slams into him. With the sound of eggshells cracking, the head fragments into countless pieces which are quickly lost in the mud.
  
  > examine bottle
  A bottle of some dark, fizzy substance. But it's definitely not Coke.
  
  > look at head
  Other than being buried in mud to his chin, the head is reassuringly normal. His hair and mustache are a matted brown, perhaps from genetics, perhaps from mud. Rivulets of water run down his creased face.
  The head glances northeast for a moment. "Just a sip, that's all I ask. One little sip of Coke."
  
  > ask the head about Coke
  There is no reply.
  
  "'Have A Coke and A Smile', they said. I'm smiling --" the head pulls its lips into a cracked grin. "Where's my Coke?"
  
  > check your inventory
  You are carrying:
  a bottle of cola
  "'I'd Like to Buy the World a Coke'. And I did. So you OWE me!" The head's eyes flicker to the northeast.
  
  > give the bottle to the headf
  You can only do that to something animate.
  
  > give the bottle to the head
  There is no reply.
  
  "'Have A Coke and A Smile', they said. I'm smiling --" the head pulls its lips into a cracked grin. "Where's my Coke?"
  
  The head's eyes widen as you open the bottle and begin to pour. "Terry, no, please, oh God you can't--" His cries are cut short as a stream of hissing liquid trickles into his mouth. His head seems almost involuntarily to wriggle its way further down into the mud, and quickly disappears. A few remaining drops of liquid drip from the bottle and splash down onto the soil, cutting tiny trails to the northeast.
  
  > Go northeast
  The mud coating him makes you think twice.
  "'I'd Like to Buy the World a Coke'. And I did. So you OWE me!" The head's eyes flicker to the northeast.
  
  The madness and confusion of this place drives you to ever-more-desperate acts. But here, at the brink, you manage to summon your courage and honor and draw back.
  
  The head hums a Coke jingle to itself.
  
  As you walk away, the head screams at you. "Coward! You put me here! Can't you at least get me something to drink?" Disturbed, you keep walking.
  
  Looming suddenly out of the gloom is a large marble building. Its columns jut skyward, raked by the unending rain. To the north lies its entrance.
  
  > Go north
  As you walk through the door of the building the sound of the rain stops, as if suddenly turned off.
  
  The two-story height of the foyer is channelled into a narrower hallway to the north. On the north wall to the west of the hallway's beginning is an open doorway. The building's entrance to the south is reflected in the marble floor.
  
  A section of the air just above your head shimmers. A small pyramid falls from the disturbance to the ground below.
  
  > examine the pyramid
  A small paper pyramid, about three centimeters on an edge.
  
  > take it
  The pyramid begins glowing softly. It unfolds like a flower and voices begin to issue from it, saying "Subject suffering from unusually low levels of sugar and caffeine..." "Thirst dangerously unsatisfied..." (someone shouts) "Doctor! We must try the new experimental treatment, it's his only hope!" "Fine, get me a syringe."
  When the light dies down, the pyramid is gone.
  
  You can't see "it" (the paper pyramid) at the moment, unlike your Coke.
  
  > go to the north
  Like the foyer, the hallway is marble. Its two-story height combined with its thinness inspires unease. A walkway runs above you, clinging to the east and west walls. Below the east walkway is a doorway.
  
  > examine the walkway
  The walkway rings the hall on every side but the south, casting a shadow on the floor.
  
  > go east
  Just enough light filters in to show you row after row of boxes filling rack after rack of shelves, making it difficult to find a place to stand. The room continues to the north. Above the west exit is a clock.
  
  > Examine box
  Cardboard boxes, all taped shut. Each one has been labeled with a black magic marker.
  
  > read the box
  Your eyes roam over their surfaces, taking in their titles. Many are labeled "Bottled: " with a range of dates following. A few are labeled "Carbonation." You feel an odd sense of disorientation as you stare at them.
  
  > look at the clock
  A red-faced clock with white hands. Above the hands is written the inscription "It's always time for Coca-Cola".
  
  > go to the north
  Metal shelves fill the hall; most are empty and many have succumbed to rust. The shelves that aren't empty hold broken shards of glass. The archive continues to the south, and an exit leads west.
  
  > Go west
  The hallway ends abruptly in a pair of large oak doors. Their intricate carving is barely visible in the leaden light from the windows above you. The doors are flanked by two sweeping staircases to the northeast and northwest. A doorway to the east is mirrored by a closed door to the west.
  
  > examine the doors
  The carved doors are made of oak and are twice your height. They stand slightly ajar, leaving enough room for you to enter.
  
  > open the doors
  The doors have frozen in position over time. You cannot budge them.
  
  > open the small door
  You open the small door.
  
  > go to the west
  The room is hot and stifling -- makes you wish for a Coke right about now -- and cobwebs drip from every surface. A hot-water tank crouches in one corner. Rickety stairs lead into the depths of the building. To the east is an open door.