text: [Themes: Humor, silly, absurd]
  
  > Go downwards
  Here, at the foot of the mountain you are at last fully able to appreciate its immense size. A rough, twisting path becomes a narrow traverse that zig-zags its way up the mountainside, its summit obscured by mist.
  
  To the west is a pleasant looking meadow, whilst to the east are a scattering of caravans. Far away to the north the Valley is blocked by a sheer wall of ice; an enormous glacier!
  
  You hear the yeti sounding his barbaric YAWP across the roof of the world...
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  You hear the yeti sounding his barbaric YAWP across the roof of the world...
  
  > Go west
  Here, in the foothills of the mountains is a meadow of lush grass, strewn with boulders and dotted with tall wild flowers that frug and shimmy in the breeze. A pastoral idyll in other words, marred only by the fact that someone has erected a barn smack in the middle of it. A windowless wooden box, this barn, of no great architectural merit. Daubed above the entrance are the words "Yak Shed".
  
  To the east, a rugged path leads down into the valley whilst other, more ordinally inclined paths lead northeast and southeast.
  
  You hear the yeti sounding his barbaric YAWP across the roof of the world...
  
  > go south
  You weren't sure what to expect from the mystic valley of Shangri-La. You'd heard all the stories of course -- a land of mystery and matchless beauty where life is lived in tranquil wonder, beyond the grasp of a doomed world! That's what it said in the brochure, anyway...
  
  What you weren't expecting was a caravan park. But there's no mistaking the large sign over the entrance: "Shangri-La Caravan Park welcomes the pure of soul -- 200 Spaces Available." Most of the spaces are empty.
  
  Directly ahead is perhaps the loveliest mountain you have ever seen; an almost perfect cone of snow, it is as though a small child had dropped a Cornetto in the middle of the valley. A broad path leads north to the mountain, and on either side are narrow trails leading northeast and northwest.
  
  > go northeast
  That you are standing outside the caravan of one of Shangri-La's permanent residents is evidenced by the fact that a tiny section of garden has been fenced off. This garden consists of a small patch of meticulously raked gravel, with, placed at harmonious intervals, two potted bonsai trees, three garden gnomes (all in the lotus position) and the inevitable plastic flamingo. The door to the caravan is open, revealing a curtain of colourful plastic ribbons that flutter in the breeze.
  
  Paths lead west to the mystic mountain, northwest to the glacier and southwest to the camp entrance.
  
  You hear the yeti sounding his barbaric YAWP across the roof of the world...
  
  > show the eggs to yeti
  The yeti is unimpressed.
  
  > ask yeti about Lama
  The yeti stands a few feet away, eyeing you amusedly.
  
  The yeti is in some kind of hypothermic coma, which makes him a rather limited conversationalist.
  
  > Go southwest
  Here, in the foothills of the mountains is a meadow of lush grass, strewn with boulders and dotted with tall wild flowers that frug and shimmy in the breeze. A pastoral idyll in other words, marred only by the fact that someone has erected a barn smack in the middle of it. A windowless wooden box, this barn, of no great architectural merit. Daubed above the entrance are the words "Yak Shed".
  
  To the east, a rugged path leads down into the valley whilst other, more ordinally inclined paths lead northeast and southeast.
  
  You hear the yeti sounding his barbaric YAWP across the roof of the world...
  
  > go east
  Here, at the foot of the mountain you are at last fully able to appreciate its immense size. A rough, twisting path becomes a narrow traverse that zig-zags its way up the mountainside, its summit obscured by mist.
  
  To the west is a pleasant looking meadow, whilst to the east are a scattering of caravans. Far away to the north the Valley is blocked by a sheer wall of ice; an enormous glacier!
  
  You hear the yeti sounding his barbaric YAWP across the roof of the world...
  
  > Up
  Here, at the peak of the mountain, perched beneath a snow-covered overhang, is a 1969 model Sprite Alpine caravan in a delapidated state of repair. Mystic sigils have been daubed across its rotting sides. Colourful prayer flags flap from ropes tied to the awning poles. Could it be that you have finally found the fabled Sanctum Sanctorum of the Dada Lama?
  
  A narrow traverse takes you down to foot of the mountain.
  
  A lowly acolyte stands guard outside the door to the caravan.
  
  The acolyte attempts to clap with one hand, cupping the other hand over his ear the better to hear the sound it makes.
  
  > ask Acolyte about yeti
  "His holiness the Dada Lama, Exalted Master of the Celestial Dragon, will be able to answer all your questions," says the acolyte dismissively, "I'm just a lowly acolyte, what would I know about that?"
  
  The acolyte attempts to clap with one hand, cupping the other hand over his ear the better to hear the sound it makes.
  
  > ask Acolyte about the clapping
  "Oh my god!" says the acolyte suddenly dropping to his knees, "Do you know the answer? Tell me! For the love of Buddha, tell me! What is the sound of one hand clapping?" He clutches your lapels and drags himself up until you are face to face. "Please! You got to help me! He's making me do all his laundry until I work it out! Have you seen the state of those longjohns?".
  
  The acolyte attempts to catch a passing fly with his chopsticks. They say that a man who can catch a fly with chopsticks can do anything.
  
  > drop all
  yak's wool sock: Dropped.
  
  clothes peg: Dropped.
  
  jar of pickled eggs (closed): Dropped.
  
  hairdryer: Dropped.
  
  The acolyte sighs with frustration.
  
  > hit Acolyte
  Violence isn't the answer to this one.
  
  The acolyte attempts to clap with one hand, cupping the other hand over his ear the better to hear the sound it makes.
  
  > tell Acolyte about the silence
  This provokes no reaction.
  
  The acolyte attempts to catch a passing fly with his chopsticks. They say that a man who can catch a fly with chopsticks can do anything.
  
  > tell Acolyte about one hand clapping
  You'd like to put the little guy out of his misery, but you have no more of an idea than he does. Perhaps you should ask the Lama?
  
  The acolyte sighs with frustration.
  
  > Go inside
  After your long and arduous journey it's hard not to be disappointed by the famous Sanctum Sanctorum of his Holiness the Dada Lama. Sure, incense burners and mandalas abound, but there's no getting away from the fact that this is nothing more than a shabby old trailer home with seating that folds up to provide additional storage.
  
  His holiness the Dada Lama, Ascended Master of the August Centre of the Heavens, sits in the middle of a bubbling hot-tub surrounded by topless beauties.
  
  The brunette massages the old man's scalp whilst the blonde lovingly soaps his scanty beard.
  
  > ask Lama about yeti
  "Tell me, oh Exalted Master, is there really such a thing as the abominable snowman?" you ask.
  
  "It is possible," says the Lama, stroking his scanty beard, "that some of them may have survived the great ice age.".
  
  > ask Dada about one hand clapping
  (the Dada Lama about that)
  "Oh great Lama," you say, rather self consciously, "tell me, what is the sound of one hand clapping?"
  
  The Lama gives Mitzi a conspiritorial wink before beckoning you closer with his finger. Cautiously you lean in to listen to him.
  
  "Closer, closer!" says the Lama. Slightly suspicious now, you lean in further with your left ear turned towards him.
  
  "Closer!" whispers the Lama, and by now it's a struggle to avoid falling into the hot tub, but somehow you manage. You can feel the Exalted Master's hot, eggy breath in your earhole.
  
  And then suddenly he claps you on the ear with one hand. It's a sound you won't forget in a hurry. Over the ringing in your ear you can hear the ringing of Candy and Mitzi's laughter.
  
  > ask Dada about the monk
  (the Dada Lama about that)
  "What are you doing here still?" says the Lama, "Have I not given you clear instructions? Now, go!"
  
  > Go outside
  Here, at the peak of the mountain, perched beneath a snow-covered overhang, is a 1969 model Sprite Alpine caravan in a delapidated state of repair. Mystic sigils have been daubed across its rotting sides. Colourful prayer flags flap from ropes tied to the awning poles. Could it be that you have finally found the fabled Sanctum Sanctorum of the Dada Lama?
  
  A narrow traverse takes you down to foot of the mountain.
  
  A lowly acolyte stands guard outside the door to the caravan.
  
  You can also see a hairdryer, a jar of pickled eggs (closed), a clothes peg and a yak's wool sock here.
  
  The acolyte attempts to clap with one hand, cupping the other hand over his ear the better to hear the sound it makes.
  
  > take all
  hairdryer: Taken.
  
  jar of pickled eggs (closed): Taken.
  
  clothes peg: Taken.
  
  yak's wool sock: Taken.
  
  acolyte: I don't suppose the acolyte would care for that.
  pair of chopsticks: You try to grab the chopsticks from the acolyte's hands, but his highly trained reflexes are just too fast for you.
  
  "Get your own!" he admonishes.
  overhang: That's hardly portable.
  clothes line: That's hardly portable.
  Lama's caravan: That's hardly portable.
  
  The acolyte sighs with frustration.
  
  > tell Acolyte about one hand clapping
  It's a little hard to explain. Perhaps a demonstration would be in order?
  
  The acolyte attempts to catch a passing fly with his chopsticks. They say that a man who can catch a fly with chopsticks can do anything.
  
  > hit Acolyte
  Violence isn't the answer to this one.
  
  The acolyte attempts to catch a passing fly with his chopsticks. They say that a man who can catch a fly with chopsticks can do anything.
  
  > Clap acolyte
  Just CLAP will suffice.
  
  > Clap
  With one hand you clap the acolyte about the face with a sound that echoes throughout the valley like thunder. After a moment the look of shock on the acolyte's face is replaced with a look of beatific understanding.
  
  > Clap
  A moment later there is a rumble from the overhang above his head, and he is buried under twenty tonnes of snow.
  
  You give yourself a round of applause. With one hand, naturally.