text: [Themes: Fantasy, surreal, silly, transformation]
  
  > look at your surroundings
  The beats aren't audible here, but conversation voices rant on. The talkers seem to take you for a stalker, but nobody wants to get too close. A barnacled candelabra hangs above, antlers are attached to a wall, and carpets provide garish spectra on the floor.
  
  All in all, this place probably has a high property value, and people would be horrified if something happened to make it drop.
  
  Some dry cake is here. Nobody else is lower-class enough to eat it, but everyone's making sure nobody lower-class nabs it.
  
  > Go north
  It's dark that way. You step on a pliers and turn back before hitting any more perils.
  
  > Go east
  Ladies with ideals grab your garb. "Step, pest!" they cry. "You'll startle a starlet!"
  
  > Go west
  A man with a handkerchief over his nose welcomes you to the Allergy Gallery. You turn back.
  
  > go upwards
  You hear a warden being warned, and soon you're routed to a detour back where you started.
  
  > scan the carpets
  An officious water informs you there are no wines for a swine like yourself. They are reserved for actors and a costar.
  
  The slider makes no noise.
  
  > Go south
  Here in this cross between a platform and farm plot lie the shocking red tents of the terminally un- and under-employed. You are quickly excluded from this once-mum commune, since you seem actually busy. An alley lies to the west, a posh shop is to the east, and back south is where you started from.
  
  A driveway with a yard view leads north. You hear painful music.
  
  That lost corn is still in that corner. Sorry if that sounds corny.
  
  A deadbeat is sitting on the ground here, looking dead beat. His eyes dart between you and the lost corn. Clearly, he resents the work your presence is forcing on him.
  
  > go south
  This is some sort of seedy underground intersection with a train station south. You can also go north to what looks like a camp. You see the down escalator you came by. A building to the west advertises itself as The Ol' Hotel.
  
  A large metallic door is to the east. It has a warning graphic repelling any old riff-raff from entering. There's also a sensor off to the side. Probably reads something-or-other to let you in.
  
  > listen
  The sharp harps are out of tune but a change of pace from the beasts. At least.
  
  > open the door
  You hear braying laughter behind the door. "Hey! Some unintellectual's trying to get in. Like we'd make it a piece of cake for them to." Then someone else admonishes the speaker for ending a sentence with a preposition.
  
  > go to the west
  What would a beaten-down city be without an ol' hotel? Both have seen better days, but this place has been trashed hardest. Everything's boarded up, and the only way out is east.
  
  A scary Night Thing is here, sitting on some sort of mattress.
  
  A ketchup bottle lies here, torn apart--and you have a prime suspect in the Night Thing that is roaring nearby.
  
  > Inventory
  It's grown wrong, a gigantic hairy eyeless potato clearly not the right girth. And it's wired weird, with a cruel ulcer for a mouth. It seems more in the mood for bellowing than fighting, but it still probably doesn't belong in the hotel. It's too big to fight and too fearsome to get near. It appears to be sitting on some sort of mattress.
  
  Item time! You are carrying:
  some velcro
  a gardenia
  a tinfoil info-lit
  a salient saltine
  an idlers' slider
  a dope tan notepad
  
  > examine bottle
  It is THE PUCK brand ketchup. They apparently put, heck, whatever they want in it! And you'll like it that way!
  
  > take the bottle
  The night thing roars. Though it's drained the bottle of its contents, it still feels an emotional attachment you would be wise not to break.
  
  > put the ketchup on the potato
  (first taking the ketchup bottle)
  
  The night thing roars. Though it's drained the bottle of its contents, it still feels an emotional attachment you would be wise not to break. You need to be holding the ketchup bottle before you can put it on top of something else.
  
  > examine the velcro
  You're not smitten by these mittens--they're like what some kids had to wear when they were younger. Two glovey bits, with a long connecting string. They're made of a bunch of hooks and can probably catch on something if need be.
  
  > wear the mittens
  You put on the velcro.
  
  > take the corn
  The deadbeat almost gets up. "Hey, Man, like, how do we know someone undisreputable doesn't, like, like the Man, man? Hey? Hey?" he says, with no dearth of hatred as he jerks his thumb north. He might not do anything, but his friends might pour out from their tents. You don't need a fight right now.
  
  Maybe you need to strike a blow against some rich people to show you belong.
  
  > Go north
  The beats aren't audible here, but conversation voices rant on. The talkers seem to take you for a stalker, but nobody wants to get too close. A barnacled candelabra hangs above, antlers are attached to a wall, and carpets provide garish spectra on the floor.
  
  All in all, this place probably has a high property value, and people would be horrified if something happened to make it drop.
  
  Some dry cake is here. Nobody else is lower-class enough to eat it, but everyone's making sure nobody lower-class nabs it.
  
  > take the cake
  You overhear tales of what happens to those that steal. Someone else takes a turn watching you.
  
  > examine the antlers
  The antlers are just the sort of annoying thing that people only buy to show they own something more expensive than you do. They seem more chipped and worn than you'd expect for something so showy.
  
  > scan the antlers
  Someone comes over to you and says "Put that thing away. They're genuine. And new, too! The owner just bought them! Or shot a seventeen-point buck to get them! Well, I'm not sure, but I didn't see them here last time."
  
  > scan the candelabra
  You couldn't even jump to get close to it. But it's not important. Someone just put it there because they could.
  
  > listen
  The conversation changes subject rapidly and randomly. The conversationalists decry conservationalists.
  
  > Inventory
  Item time! You are carrying:
  some velcro (being worn)
  a gardenia
  a tinfoil info-lit
  a salient saltine
  an idlers' slider
  a dope tan notepad
  
  > examine the cake
  The least stale of what's left, but weird and silvery and in no state to taste. Someone sees you eyeing the cake, and you suddenly wish to steal it out of spite.
  
  > Go south
  Here in this cross between a platform and farm plot lie the shocking red tents of the terminally un- and under-employed. You are quickly excluded from this once-mum commune, since you seem actually busy. An alley lies to the west, a posh shop is to the east, and back south is where you started from.
  
  A driveway with a yard view leads north. You hear painful music.
  
  That lost corn is still in that corner. Sorry if that sounds corny.
  
  A deadbeat is sitting on the ground here, looking dead beat. His eyes dart between you and the lost corn. Clearly, he resents the work your presence is forcing on him.
  
  > go south
  This is some sort of seedy underground intersection with a train station south. You can also go north to what looks like a camp. You see the down escalator you came by. A building to the west advertises itself as The Ol' Hotel.
  
  A large metallic door is to the east. It has a warning graphic repelling any old riff-raff from entering. There's also a sensor off to the side. Probably reads something-or-other to let you in.
  
  > go to the south
  Er, Train Terrain
  You're in a train station. It's a bit dark, but not as bad as to the east, which is where the noise may be coming from--it's louder here than anywhere else. You suspect the darkness to the east is where your destiny lies.
  
  You could go back north, and there's a fuzzy looking wall to the west, too. You notice pointed art and a faded ad on it, but the small recess near the top seems more useful. A rail is to the east--it seems to be sparking quite a bit, so best not to step on it, yet.
  
  > go west
  The big fuzzy wall is that way.
  
  The tracks are east, and the city is back north.
  
  > examine the wall
  The wall looks and feels like steel wool, from top to bottom.
  
  > take the wall
  That's hardly portable.
  
  > touch the wall
  Kind of rough and gritty.
  
  > climb the wall
  The velcro strip is just the thing to climb the wall and reach the small recess.
  
  Er, Train Terrain (on the fuzzy looking wall)
  You're in a train station. It's a bit dark, but not as bad as to the east, which is where the noise may be coming from--it's louder here than anywhere else. You suspect the darkness to the east is where your destiny lies.
  
  You could go back north, though you may need to get off the wall first. A rail is to the east--it seems to be sparking quite a bit, so best not to step on it, yet.
  
  > examine the recess
  In the recess, you read Wirin' by Irwin. In event of missing control panel, power spikes on track will be unpredictable.