text: > look in the car
  The car is empty.
  
  > get in the car
  You get into the car.
  
  Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
  
  > open the trunk
  You lack a key that fits the trunk.
  
  Curb scratches his ear.
  
  > search the car
  The car is empty.
  
  Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
  
  > open the trunk
  Curb has better things to do.
  
  Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
  
  > examine the wheel
  That's what you would use to steer the car, if it actually worked.
  
  Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
  
  > hit the dog with the guitar
  Violence isn't the answer to this one.
  
  Curb fixes you with a look of abject guilt and keens softly.
  
  > sit
  You are carrying:
  your guitar
  an alligator stetson (being worn)
  your panga
  Treasure Huntery Lesson 1
  
  Curb chases his tail, squealing frustration.
  
  (on the car keys)
  Curb has better things to do.
  
  Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
  
  > give the hat to dog
  Like hell! That good-for-nothing hound destroys everything you own, but you've got to keep some things sacred.
  
  Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
  
  > give the panga to the dog
  Curb watches the panga with a sceptical eye, considers its merits relative to the car keys, decides that you're trying to manipulate him and scampers to a safe distance.
  
  Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
  
  > look at the panga
  Two feet of heavy, sharp iron with a single blade. Machete, some call it. It's not much, but you're stuck with it.
  
  When you was born, your folks were in a bad way; they'd just gotten run out of the Dakotas, were getting just whatever work they could find till a House turned up that was accepting indentured, and didn't have the money to get anything better. So you got bound to this overgrown sheath-knife.
  
  It's a good tool and all, and your folks did all they could to get it, but - any road, you're bound to it now, so make the best of it.
  
  > attack Curb with the panga
  Violence isn't the answer to this one.
  
  Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
  
  > examine the sign
  At some juncture of the distant past it may, you surmise, have displayed information of some kind; the original content has been effaced, but it still tells you something; to wit, folks here have ammo to waste and don't mind shooting at trash.
  
  Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
  
  > get the sign
  That's fixed in place.
  
  Curb snaps viciously at you, then backs away with his tail between his legs.
  
  > Kiss Curb
  Keep your mind on the game.
  
  > give the Treasure Huntery to curb
  Curb watches Treasure Huntery Lesson 1 with a sceptical eye, considers its merits relative to the car keys, decides that you're trying to manipulate him and scampers to a safe distance.
  
  > go to the east
  It might be a good idea to close the car first.
  
  > look at the billboard
  * Water - Tobbaco - Erotica - Local Crafts *
  
  The paint's faded and worn away in patches, and you can see no evidence of life; but that needn't mean anything, out here.
  
  > Go east
  You continue to trudge down the road, you car falling away from sight behind you.
  
  As the highway continues to the east, you can see a rutted dirt path heading off to the north toward what looks like a small farmhouse.
  
  Curb scampers after you.
  
  > Examine farmhouse
  It's seen better days.
  
  > go to the north
  You head toward the small farmhouse.
  
  A wide porch of wood slats, with the obligatory animal skulls nailed up against the wall. South leads back to the road; north takes you inside.
  
  Just outside the shadowed doorway, a parched corpse slumps in a rocking-chair, a long gun across his knees.
  
  Curb scampers after you.
  
  > look at the corpse
  Tall guy. Thin, but that's most likely just how you get when you dry out. Old clothes; someone already took his hat and been through his pockets. Buzzards been at him, so you can't tell much else. Had a red beard. Gun still lying across his lap.
  
  Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
  
  > look at the gun
  Long enough barrel, but it's just a home-made matchlock. Badly made, too - the lock's blown wide open. Likely that's what got him. Certainly didn't help him any.
  
  > take the gun
  With a sharp tug, you pull the gun from the corpse's stiff hands. As you do, the blasted lock falls apart entirely, leaving you with just the long musket-barrel.
  
  > Examine barrel
  A musket barrel about five and a half feet long. More suited to a drainpipe than a gun, but you're in no place to judge.
  
  Curb snaps at flies.
  
  > Go north
  Light spills through dust-caked windows and cracks in the log walls. It doesn't show up much. Some shelves, an old counter that may once have held a till, an uneven plank floor; must have been looted a dozen times over. Over in one corner there's a trapdoor.
  
  On the shelves are a Twinkie, a strip of bison jerky, and a Son of Toil bar.
  
  No phone, of course. Not that you were expecting one, at this point.
  
  Curb scampers after you.
  
  > take all
  Twinkie: Taken.
  strip of bison jerky: Taken.
  Son of Toil bar: Taken.
  
  > give the jerky to curb
  You wave the strip of bison jerky at Curb. His ears prick up, and he abandons the car keys immediately, almost taking your fingers off as he snatches the delicious treat away from you.
  
  Curb attempts to howl, but it devolves into a whimper.
  
  > take the keys
  You steel your courage. Dog slobber is no picnic.
  
  Taken.
  
  Curb attempts to howl, but it devolves into a whimper.
  
  > Go south
  A wide porch of wood slats, with the obligatory animal skulls nailed up against the wall. South leads back to the road; north takes you inside.
  
  Just outside the shadowed doorway, a parched corpse slumps in a rocking-chair.
  
  Curb scampers after you.
  
  > Go south
  As the highway continues to the east, you can see a rutted dirt path heading off to the north toward what looks like a small farmhouse.
  
  Curb scampers after you.
  
  > go to the west
  You silently head back in the direction of your car.
  
  You silently trudge down the road toward the town, wherever it may be.
  
  This lonely stretch of road seems to continue east toward the horizon. The sides of the road haven't changed much either. It's still flat, dry ground. You can see your car in the distance to the west.
  
  A ways down the road you can make out a solitary billboard.
  
  Curb scampers after you.
  
  > Go west
  You trudge back toward your car.
  
  You're standing on a stretch of road by your car. On the sides of the road is nothing but flat, dry ground and nothing to see at all to the horizon. The sign you passed a few miles back said it was about 10 miles to the nearest town, the name of which you've already forgotten. Seeing as it's even farther back to the previous town, the only way to go is forward to the east.
  
  You can see your car and a road sign here.
  
  Curb scampers after you.
  
  > examine the sign
  At some juncture of the distant past it may, you surmise, have displayed information of some kind; the original content has been effaced, but it still tells you something; to wit, folks here have ammo to waste and don't mind shooting at trash.
  
  > Unlock trunk
  You insert your key in the trunk and it pops open.
  
  > look in the trunk
  In the trunk are a glow-jar and an offering.
  
  > take all from the trunk
  glow-jar: Taken.
  offering: Not much you can do with these until you have some form of transport; you sure as hell ain't smoking them.
  
  Curb peers curiously at the panga.
  
  > examine offering
  One thousand packs of filterless Camels, your birthday gift to Aunt Mabel. Hopefully it'll be a sufficient offering for her to confirm you, but that's no sure thing.
  
  Curb snatches up the offering in his mouth and gnaws noisily at it.
  
  > play the guitar
  You play a few notes of some Rick Astley song you can't remember the name of. Contrary to IF convention, you actually play quite well.
  
  > play the guitar
  You play a few notes of some Rick Astley song you can't remember the name of. Contrary to IF convention, you actually play quite well.
  
  Curb starts at nothing, and half falls over in a desperate attempt to escape it.
  
  > play the guitar
  Some of the crazier hill-tribes sell this glowy liquid stuff. It's nasty stuff - you wouldn't want to get it on your skin - but you figure that if it's sealed in a Ball jar you should be just fine. Anyhow, it gives off a decent light that never goes out, which is why you paid fifty smokes for it.
  
  You play a few notes of "Chobits ending theme 2". Contrary to IF convention, you actually play quite well.
  
  Eyes rolling nervously, Curb hunches over and humps thin air.
  
  > Go east
  It might be a good idea to close the trunk first.
  
  > open the trapdoor
  You open the trapdoor.
  
  A pale moth flutters out of the cellar. You reflexively make a warding sign - though they don't help much with Curb, so their potency against curses and doom seems to be limited.
  
  Curb writhes about on his back, kicking his hind legs.