text: > Look around
  Aaah... Choo! Oh, of course, in you come tracking your germs.
  
  Sniff... sniff.
  
  You're standing upon a rubberized non-slip bathroom mat. Handrails, installed here as an extra precaution, run along the walls.
  
  You look a little peaked to yourself, reflected in the mirror of the medicine cabinet.
  
  The clock gives off its last "tick" and stops.
  
  > open the cabinet
  The cabinet creaks on its hinges, some would say from overuse.
  
  The cabinet is crowded to pharmaceutical proportions with a panoply of pills, lozenges and elixirs -- hey, you can't be too careful, with what's going around these days -- including some remedies for afflictions that, yes, haven't even afflicted anyone yet. But it's better to be safe than sorry.
  
  > eat the pills
  That's pretty nutty.
  
  > Attic
  You walk to the Interior Decorated, and from there walk down the stairs...
  
  The attic is where the oxymoron is rumored to have been locked up recently for years and years. There doesn't seem to be even a shred of hard evidence, though, for such a secret rumor. A funny thing though -- the place is upside-down: You're standing on the ceiling with the floor above as the roof over your head.
  
  A sturdy, rickety stairway leads up from here.
  
  > examine the ceiling
  It looks like every other ceiling you've ever seen.
  
  > Down
  But the stairs lead up.
  
  > Inventory
  You have a cardboard box, a clock, a lace tablecloth and a multihued textured pillow.
  It seems that the clock contains a winding key.
  
  > Beginning
  You are surrounded by a swirling, blinding cloud. You feel your limbs going relaxed and your eyelids are buffeted with sand from the cloud.
  
  You now have the opportunity to do one of the following:
  
  >Eat your Words
  >Visit the Manor of Speaking
  >Shake a Tower
  >Meet the Mayor
  
  > visit Manor
  The sad truth here is that the Manor of Speaking once enjoyed the reputation as one of THE finest guest houses in the entire region around Punster. But queer indeed is the fate it has suffered. The various rooms of the house are actually possessed by the warped personalities of by-gone visitors. The experience of a present-day guest to each of the rooms is colored very strongly by the thoughts and indeed voice of each ghostly presence. Needless to say, vacancy rates have gone through the roof. Which leads us to the crucial problem with the Manor. Its attic, as you will notice, is radically out of joint, situated BELOW the level of the first floor. It has been theorized that if this misplacement could be dramatically rectified, the spirits who've worn out their welcome might flee in horror. This is our hope, may it be your quest.
  
  The attic is where the oxymoron is rumored to have been locked up recently for years and years. There doesn't seem to be even a shred of hard evidence, though, for such a secret rumor. A funny thing though -- the place is upside-down: You're standing on the ceiling with the floor above as the roof over your head.
  
  A sturdy, rickety stairway leads up from here.
  
  You can see a multihued textured pillow, a lace tablecloth and a cardboard box here.
  It seems that the cardboard box contains a clock.
  It seems that the clock contains a winding key.
  
  > get all
  multihued textured pillow: Taken.
  lace tablecloth: Taken.
  cardboard box: Taken.
  
  > Wind key
  You wind the clock until the winding key stops.
  
  The clock continues sounding out a steady "Tick... tick... tick."
  
  > Close box
  Okay, the cardboard box is now closed.
  
  The clock keeps ticking off the time.
  
  > Kremlin
  You walk up the stairs to the Interior Decorated and continue walking...
  
  "Tick... tick." I hear bomb ticking! Counter-Revolutionary spy! Hold on to our sable hats. My sturdy walls tremble with xenophobia of Western hegemony into Mother Country. Poor Marx is jolted and falls indignantly to the floor, revealing some kind of safe on the red wall where he had hung.
  
  This room is painted entirely in bold, revolutionary red -- walls, floor, and ceiling -- surrounding you symbolically with the inescapability of the coming of the revolution.
  
  There's a safe built into the wall where the picture once hung.
  
  You can see a portrait of Karl Marx here.
  
  The clock keeps ticking off the time.
  
  > examine safe
  In keeping with the spirit of international brotherhood and with the lofty theme of the Lennon's song "Imagine," the safe is kept closed only by a very simple universal lock, which can be opened by any kind of key.
  
  The clock continues sounding out a steady "Tick... tick... tick."
  
  > examine pillow
  The pillow, complementary to the Louis XIV, is multihued and textured, displaying free-form squiggles, curlicues and brash brushstrokes with a primitive look to them.
  
  The clock continues sounding out a steady "Tick... tick... tick."
  
  > open pillow
  You can't open a multihued textured pillow!
  
  The clock continues sounding out a steady "Tick... tick... tick."
  
  > get the portrait
  The hero has suffered indignity enough. Never he to be taken away as capitalist booty!
  
  The clock keeps ticking off the time.
  
  > open the box
  Opening the cardboard box reveals a clock.
  It seems that the clock contains a winding key.
  
  The clock continues sounding out a steady "Tick... tick... tick."
  
  > get the key
  You can't -- the winding key is an integral part of the clock.
  But the key can still be used.
  
  The clock continues sounding out a steady "Tick... tick... tick."
  
  > unlock safe with the key
  You can't reach the safe.
  
  The clock keeps ticking off the time.
  
  > Interior
  You go there...
  
  This room, with its modern sensibility yet also palpable feeling for the ancien regime, is unique in its elegant reflection of a confident, personal sense of style. The lines are lean and classic, the color is rich and distinctive.
  
  The Louis XIV chair is plump, tufted, aristocratic -- it's styled with equal splashes of rococo and baroque. The piece definitely has charisma.
  
  Against the far wall is an heroically proportioned, Mediterranean-crafted, intricately inlaid, Pre-Raphaelite limestone mantelpiece, circa 1838.
  
  A marble staircase of grand proportions leads down.
  
  The clock gives off its last "tick" and stops.
  
  > get the chair
  This is not a rummage sale. No! I could never think of parting with such a priceless antique.
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You have a cardboard box, a lace tablecloth and a multihued textured pillow.
  It seems that the cardboard box contains a clock.
  It seems that the clock contains a winding key.
  
  > Pharmacy
  You go there...
  
  Aaah... Choo! Oh, of course, in you come tracking your germs.
  
  Sniff... sniff.
  
  You're standing upon a rubberized non-slip bathroom mat. Handrails, installed here as an extra precaution, run along the walls.
  
  The open medicine cabinet is cram packed full of a variety of medicines.
  
  It seems that the medicine cabinet contains an old bottle.
  
  > get the bottle
  You can go ahead and have that old thing anyway. It was here before I moved in.
  
  > examine bottle
  It's a small and delicately sculpted glass bottle, looking to be hundreds of years old. The bottle is empty and has no lid.
  
  > Interior
  You go there...
  
  Oh, my goodness, that's a rare antique bottle you're holding. Very impressive indeed.
  
  This room, with its modern sensibility yet also palpable feeling for the ancien regime, is unique in its elegant reflection of a confident, personal sense of style. The lines are lean and classic, the color is rich and distinctive.
  
  The Louis XIV chair is plump, tufted, aristocratic -- it's styled with equal splashes of rococo and baroque. The piece definitely has charisma.
  
  Against the far wall is an heroically proportioned, Mediterranean-crafted, intricately inlaid, Pre-Raphaelite limestone mantelpiece, circa 1838.
  
  A marble staircase of grand proportions leads down.
  
  > put the bottle on the mantel
  Umm... Do you really think it makes the right statement there?
  
  > Yes
  Mmmmm. You know I really think you might be right. Yes, yes, the cherished memento look.
  
  You carefully place the antique bottle upon the mantel.
  
  Yes, heavens yes, it really SAYS something there. Oh, such a prized antique, what could I EVER give you in return?
  
  > get the chair
  GIVE the plump, tufted, aristocratic Louis XIV chair to you -- never! Well, yes, you may borrow it. I don't even want to KNOW what you're going to use it for.
  
  It's too heavy, considering your current load.
  
  > get the chair
  It's too heavy, considering your current load.
  
  > Inventory
  You have a lace tablecloth and a multihued textured pillow.
  
  > drop all
  lace tablecloth: Dropped.
  multihued textured pillow: Dropped.
  
  > get the chair
  Go ahead, but I can't bear to look. [With the proper reverence, you make a courtly bow in front of the priceless antique as you pick it up.]
  
  > Kremlin
  You go there...
  
  "Fellow traveller, welcome."
  
  This room is painted entirely in bold, revolutionary red -- walls, floor, and ceiling -- surrounding you symbolically with the inescapability of the coming of the revolution.
  
  There's a safe built into the wall where the picture once hung.
  
  You can see a portrait of Karl Marx here.
  
  > Interior
  You go there...
  
  This room, with its modern sensibility yet also palpable feeling for the ancien regime, is unique in its elegant reflection of a confident, personal sense of style. The lines are lean and classic, the color is rich and distinctive.
  
  Against the far wall is an heroically proportioned, Mediterranean-crafted, intricately inlaid, Pre-Raphaelite limestone mantelpiece, circa 1838. Resting on the mantel: an old bottle.
  
  A marble staircase of grand proportions leads down.
  
  You can see a multihued textured pillow, a lace tablecloth and a cardboard box here.
  It seems that the cardboard box contains a clock.
  It seems that the clock contains a winding key.
  
  > get all
  multihued textured pillow: Taken.
  lace tablecloth: Taken.
  cardboard box: Taken.
  old bottle: Hands off, Indian giver! That antique bottle is mine now.
  
  > Kremlin
  You go there...
  
  "Fellow traveller, welcome."
  
  This room is painted entirely in bold, revolutionary red -- walls, floor, and ceiling -- surrounding you symbolically with the inescapability of the coming of the revolution.
  
  There's a safe built into the wall where the picture once hung.
  
  You can see a plump, tufted, aristocratic Louis XIV chair and a portrait of Karl Marx here.
  
  > unlock safe with the key
  By inserting the clock key into the safe and turning, the safe is unlocked.
  
  > open safe
  Opening the safe reveals a revolution.
  
  > revolve the attic
  You get that long, drawn-out sudden feeling of movement in the pit of your stomach as the attic begins tilting straight up to one side, and it continues tilting until you're in a figurative sense literally climbing the walls and fall...
  
  "CRUNCH!" Your shoulders slam softly against the hardwood floor. Wobbly but with steadiness, you regain your feet. Wait! You can hear the screeching voices of disembodied spirits converge in a fright and then around the entrance to the manor, and then grow faint in the distance.
  
  Congratulations. Having rid the manor of its unwanted, if spirited, visitors you thereby, in the eyes of the Citizens' Action Committee, earn the title of Honored Guest.
  
  You now have the opportunity to do one of the following:
  
  >Eat your Words
  >Shake a Tower
  >Meet the Mayor
  
  > revolve Manor
  There's no time to dawdle. You must do one of the following:
  
  >Eat your Words
  >Shake a Tower
  >Meet the Mayor
  
  > Order
  [What do you want to order?]
  
  > examine the sign
  Next to the stairway, glowing blue neon letters read "Comeuppance."
  
  > get the sign
  The waitress, though busy scurrying around and up and down, would be able to observe such a flagrant violation upon the premises.
  
  > examine waitress
  She is a hatchet-faced young woman, with a spiked purple mohawk and a pink woolen headband worn low on her forehead. A stray wood chip, apparently having been picked up from the kitchen, sits upon her shoulder, which is otherwise sprinkled amply with dandruff, or dander.
  
  She eyes you suspiciously for a moment, as if you've done wrong.
  
  > take the chip off the shoulder
  Why bother?
  
  > knock the chip off her shoulder
  "Come on, knock it off!" the waitress says defiantly, and the chip goes flying off into the air. She ducks out for a few seconds and returns to hurriedly set your table with something strange and crude for an eating instrument, a hatchet.
  
  > Raise dander
  The waitress shrugs her shoulders in contempt of your pestering, and sure enough her dander is raised. Becoming agitated at your behavior, she disappears for a few moments, and comes back to serve you some pie by setting it on the table.
  
  The waitress continues on, calculating her tips for the day.
  
  > eat the humble pie
  As gingerly as possible, nibbling around the edges and taking smallish guilty bites out of the pie, and chewing slowly and thoughtfully with wide eyes to prolong the expression of your humility, you gradually consume the pie until it is all gone.
  
  > bury it
  Into whom do you want to bury the hatchet?