text: [Themes: Screen, Satire, humor]
  
  > Look around
  This bleak room with its short, slumping ceiling does nothing to brighten your morale. Short file cabinets, marked in reverse alphabetical order, crawl in a line along the walls like an army of stupid robots. One measly window lets in a tiny square of sunlight.
  
  You see a copier machine here.
  
  > open the copier
  You open the lid.
  
  > Go outside
  You have to stay on the job.
  
  > open the window
  (the window)
  You open the window.
  
  > look out the window
  (the window)
  You find nothing of interest.
  
  > Exit window
  (the window)
  You have to stay on the job.
  
  > File file
  Which do you mean, the file cabinets, the Z cabinet, the Z-Y cabinet, the Y-X cabinet or the other cabinets?
  
  > look at Y-X
  File cabinet Y-X takes documents from Ye-Xa.
  
  > open y-X
  You open the Y-X cabinet.
  
  > look in it
  Inside you see filed documents.
  
  > open the Z-y
  The Z-Y cabinet drawer seems to be stuck. Not locked, just kind of not moving very easily.
  
  > pull the Z-the y.
  Melvin, your supervisor, gangles into the room. With his elongated height and pasty, translucent skin, he looks like the big funky alien at the end of "Close Encounters," only more puppet-like. He approaches you cautiously. Even though he's your boss, he always seems to be intimidated by you.
  
  "H-hi, Peter," he says.
  
  What would you like to say? [0 to cancel]
  1: Oh, hi Melvin.
  2: Go away, idiot.
  
  > 1
  You say, "Oh, hi Melvin."
  
  Melvin swallows, his dry throat making a thwupping noise that really turns your stomach. "Mmm. Making some copies there?" he asks.
  
  What would you like to say? [0 to cancel]
  1: No, I'm hacking into NORAD and launching Global Thermonuclear War. 2: Yeah, pictures of Valerie's butt. Wanna see?
  3: (sigh) Yes, Melvin. I'm making copies. What's up?
  
  > 3
  You say, "(sigh) Yes, Melvin. I'm making copies. What's up?"
  
  Melvin fiddles with a small stack of folders in his sweaty hands. "I was wondering, um. Are you busy?"
  
  What would you like to say? [0 to cancel]
  1: Yes. I'm terribly busy. You'll have to come back later.
  2: What is it you want, Melvin?
  
  > 2
  You say, "What is it you want, Melvin?"
  
  "I was wondering if you could sort these for me," he says, handing you the folders. There are sweat stains on them. Stifling the urge to make a comment, you adjust your grip to touch only the dry spots.
  
  > examine the stains
  They're just sweat stains. Kind of large sweat stains. In fact, they're not just everyday sweat stains. They smell kind of funny, too.
  
  Melvin fidgets, waiting for you to finish.
  
  > look at the folders
  The folders are a stack of about thirty plain folders, currently unsorted.
  
  Melvin fidgets, waiting for you to finish.
  
  > read the folders
  You flip through the folders, but none of it interests you.
  
  Melvin fidgets, waiting for you to finish.
  
  > Smell stains
  They smell funkily sweet, almost like antifreeze. Melvin must have been working on his car this morning or something.
  
  Melvin fidgets, waiting for you to finish.
  
  > Goodbye
  Please use >TALK TO PLAYER to interact in this game.
  
  Melvin fidgets, waiting for you to finish.
  
  > talk to Melvin
  You can't think of anything in particular to say.
  
  Melvin fidgets, waiting for you to finish.
  
  > sort folders
  You're actually pretty much of a whiz at sorting, which might be why you got the job you did. "Time me," you tell Melvin, and 13 seconds later you're done.
  
  > examine Melvin
  Melvin Prufrock is a thin, translucent looking individual, with tics and other twitchy mannerisms passing for a personality. He is insanely tall, approaching six foot eight, but probably only weighs 130 pounds with clothes on. You don't even want to consider what he's like without clothes on. He also looks like he's about six years younger than you are, so about nineteen, and yet he's several rankings above you on the ladder.
  
  Melvin fidgets, waiting for you to finish.
  
  > give the folders to Melvin
  You start to hand them to Melvin, but he starts making a choking noise. You realize he's trying to tell you that you've sorted them into the wrong order again. For whatever reason, they like to use reverse alphabetical order in this company. Go figure.
  
  > sort the folders
  You re-sort the folders, taking only 11 seconds this time.
  
  > give the folders to Melvin
  Melvin says, "Excellent. You're really amazing at this. Oh, and could you file them now? I guess that's really what I was after." Without even giving you a chance to say no, Melvin hustles away. You swear you almost hear his bones clacking together when he moves that fast.
  
  > File folders
  Well, let's see. The Z's are on top. The first one is labeled, "Zefferelli," so it should probably go into the Z cabinet.
  
  > open the z cabinet
  You open the Z cabinet.
  
  > put Zefferelli in it
  You stick the Zefferelli folder into cabinet Z and close the drawer.
  
  > File folders
  (the sorted folders)
  Well, let's see. The Z's are on top. The first one is labeled, "Zarf: Classified," so it should probably go into the Z-Y cabinet.
  
  > read Zarf
  (the sorted folders)
  Eagerly, you flip open the "Zarf: Classified" folder, only to find that it contains a top secret patent application for the design of a new improved type of cup holder.
  
  > pull the Z-the y.
  Man, this cabinet is really stuck shut. Better try again. This time, with feeling.
  
  You feel a faint cool breath of air.
  
  > pull the Z-the y.
  You give the stuck cabinet drawer the old heave-ho, and instead of merely opening, it yanks loose from the wall, revealing a strange, small door in the wall!
  
  > examine the door
  The strange secret door is only about three feet high, and painted a shade of crimson. Gold flecks in the paint give it a sparkly, almost magical appearance.
  
  > feel the air
  It seems to be coming from the secret door.
  
  > take the air
  That's hardly portable.
  
  > put Zarf inthe z -y.
  (the sorted folders in the Z-Y cabinet)
  You stick the Zarf folders into cabinet X-Y and close the drawer.
  
  > open the door
  A hush of ancient air, tinged with organic sweetness, flows out of the opened portal.
  
  > Smell air
  The air smells like old books, soft leather, caramel, and just a hint of cinnamon muffins.
  
  > File folders
  Well, let's see. The Y's are on top. The first one is labeled, "Y2," so it should probably go into the Y-X cabinet.
  
  > open y-X
  That's already open.
  
  > put y2 in the Y-the x.
  You stick the Y2 folder into cabinet X-Y and close the drawer.
  
  > File folders
  [BUG - wrong folder in player ]
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  some folders
  
  > examine the folders
  The folders are a stack of about thirty plain folders, currently sorted intoreversealphabetical order.
  
  > enter door
  You pass through the portal into a dark tunnel, which sighs with melodic longing as you enter.
  
  You are on your hands and knees in a claustrophobic tunnel. It leads down, as nearly as you can tell, but your equilibrium is distorted in here. The curving walls gleam with the semblance of wet rock, but the palms of your hands tell a different story. It feels like organic tissue, a thick layer of hide, with the elastic strength of muscle. Like sharkskin, it is silken and slick in one direction but resists any backwards movement with a roughened grain.
  
  > Go inside
  You begin to crawl forward, the tunnel floor oozing and pliable under your knees and palms. The secret door bangs shut and disappears. The tunnel begins to shiver, and from up ahead a roar like a waterfall issues from the darkness. Your hands suddenly lose traction as gravity begins its quickening pull. You begin to slide down... down... down...
  
  -- glaring light...
  
  [Hit any key.]
  B E I N G  A N D R E W  P L O T K I N
  
  Type ABOUT for information about this release.
  
  At Zarf's Desk (in Zarf's head)
  Weird! You're inside Zarf's head!You see the opening of Zarf's eyes, giving you a sort of bifocal window into the surrounding environment. Outside of Zarf, you see a workdesk containing a gigantic computer monitor, a keyboard, tidy arrangements of notes, and a collection of little toys and knick-knacks.
  
  Inside of Zarf's head, you see weird flashes of light. A number of eerie sounds float around. You presume these effects are caused by the random firing of synapses in a very active mind. There are no exits that you can perceive.
  
  Zarf types some code into his computer.
  
  > Examine monitor
  The gigantic computer monitor is displaying a lot of complicated programming code.
  
  Zarf types more code into his computer, then saves the file.
  
  > read the code
  You are suddenly humbled by the awareness that you don't know the first thing about professional programming, because you can't tell what this code does, even though it looks quite organized, efficient, and well-commented.
  
  Zarf compiles his code.
  
  > examine the toys
  There are little colored shapes and game pieces, a couple of metal cubes sitting next to each other. There is a larger, third cube, an elaborate assemblage of puzzle pieces, plated with gold.
  
  Zarf traces down a typo, saves again, and recompiles.
  
  > examine the notes
  Beyond the fact that they're tidy, you can't really read what's written on them from here.
  
  Zarf takes a drink out of a glass.
  
  > About yourself
  You're Peter Feeney, a bright young guy with a healthy self-image. You do feel that life hasn't brought you the success and fame that you deserve, but that will come with time, in your humble opinion.
  
  Zarf says, "It's in *California*?" His voice echoes, deep and resonantly, through his head.
  
  > examine the light
  Inside of Zarf's head, you see weird flashes of light. A number of eerie sounds float around. You presume these effects are caused by the random firing of synapses in a very active mind. There are no exits that you can perceive.
  
  Zarf types some more code into his computer.
  
  > touch light
  Nothing seems to have any real substance here, although it's hard to tell if it's your imagination or Zarf's.
  
  > examine the voice
  -- glaring light...
  
  [Hit any key.]
  
  Suddenly, you are falling from a somewhat drastic height at the usual 9.8 meters per second squared. Your acceleration and velocity are halted when a large hedge on the Red Hat campus grounds rushes up to catch you.
  
  Spiny, poky leaves weed their way through your clothing and stab you in uncomfortable and sensitive places.