text: [Themes: Children's, Literary, Humor, fairy tale]
  
  > Look around
  I'm in the pantry, a small claustrophobic room which smells faintly of cinammon, honey and the mouse droppings that are liberally sprinkled across the tiled floor. There is an upright freezer in the corner and some sturdy shelves stacked high with box after box of McScottie's porridge oats. The kitchen lies to the south.
  
  > examine the shelves
  One of the bears is obviously into DIY.
  
  > get the pork
  I already have that.
  
  > check your inventory
  I am carrying:
  a packet of frozen pork chops
  a mousetrap (which is open)
  a dead mouse
  a wedge of cheese
  a matchbox
  a spoon
  a gigantic bowl of just-right porridge
  a crumpled note
  a small packet (which is open but empty)
  a pair of gardening gloves
  a trowel
  some sticks of dynamite
  a ratty old paintbrush
  a pair of secateurs
  an overripe pumpkin
  a broken bottle
  a wristwatch (being worn)
  a "distressed" Laura Ashley dress (being worn)
  
  > examine the cheese
  It's stale and hard as a rock!
  
  > Go south
  I am in the bears' tiny kitchen, a cosy little room that could have come straight from the pages of Country Living. It's big on original features and totally lacking in "mod cons." A large dining table sits in the centre of the room and there is a dresser against the wall. Opposite the dresser is an enormous brick fireplace that seems to fill half the room.
  
  On the dining table are a large bowl (which is empty), a medium-sized bowl (which is empty) and a tiny little bowl of just-right porridge.
  
  > go to the east
  My first impression upon entering the entrance hall of the Three Bears' cottage is of hundreds of eyes staring glassily down at me from every corner. Virtually every forest creature from the tiniest shrew to the largest moose is represented in a macabre collection of hunting trophies. And not just forest creatures either; I'd swear that some of these heads are human! On one wall is a full length portrait of the bear clan. A narrow staircase leads upwards, and there are doors to the north and west. Completing the morbid ambiance is a motheaten bearskin rug.
  
  'Ding-Dong!' The doorbell rings. A booming voice can be heard from the direction of the front door: 'Little pigs, little pigs, LET ME IN, or I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll BLOW YOUR HOUSE IN!'
  
  > open door
  I open the door a tiny crack. As I do so, the mangy looking wolf I encountered on the path barges into the hall, his beady eyes darting this way and that.
  'I'm going to eat you little piggies!' he snarls. 'Don't worry, it won't hurt a bit.' Then he notices me and his expression turns to one of bewilderment. 'My dear girl,' he says 'we really must stop meeting like this. It is not you I seek, but the Three Little Pigs. I waited two whole weeks for Little Red Riding Hood, after devouring her grandmother who was exceedingly tough and chewy and quite frankly I have had enough of the taste of humans. Go tell those snivelling pigs it's breakfast time!!'
  
  > give the pork to Wolf
  'Here you go, Wolfie!' I say, shoving the pork chops under his quivering nose. He recoils in amateur-dramatic horror.
  'Cretinous child!' He roars, 'I can't possibly eat those! Do I look like an arctic fox? Am I similar in appearance to a polar bear? Nay, I am a wolf! A wily wanderer of the woodlands! Were I to attempt to eat those my delicate jaws would shatter like glass! Take them away, and don't bring them back until they're medium rare!'
  
  > Go north
  'Now then,' says the wolf, 'if you've quite finished interrogating me, I shall be off in search of those elusive ungulates.'
  
  From its floral carpet to its lovingly dusted knick-knacks, The Three Bears' sitting room is a chintzy abomination of taste, the sort of room that would make any sane bear want to go back and live in a cave. Three chairs are arranged around a small coffee table; a large chair, a medium-sized chair and a tiny little chair.
  
  On the small coffee table is a copy of 'Hail!' magazine.
  
  > look at the copy
  All the latest gossip on the Fairyland royal family. Let's see; "Who's going to be at the Royal Ball?" Hmm. "How to get the Rapunzel look." Ho hum. Wait, what's this; "It's the latest craze that's sweeping the nation - the must-have toy that every real princess won't want to be without. Golden Balls have become the bestselling plaything at Geppetto's toy superstore..." Oh, please - what's a princess going to do with a ball made of solid gold - she'd only drop it in a pond or something!
  
  > examinthe knick-knacks
  Oh, you know, the usual things - glass animals, plaster models of peeing cherubs; the sort of things I would take to a car-boot sale rather than bring back from one. They're of no interest to me.
  
  > gethe knick-knacks
  That's hardly portable.
  
  > examine the chair
  Which do you mean, the large chair, the medium-sized chair or the tiny little chair?
  
  > Large
  It's a huge overstuffed leather affair covered with leather buttons. It looks well worn, as though the person it belongs to has nothing better to do than sit on a horrible hard chair all day. A filthy antimacassar is draped over the back of the chair.
  
  One of the buttons on the arm looks slightly different from the others...
  
  > examine the antimacassar
  A nasty, frilly lacy thing that old people drape over the backs of chairs for no good reason. It's old and grubby and is embroidered with the initials P.B. There's something underneath it...
  
  > move it
  Nothing obvious happens.
  
  > take it
  Bloody hell! There are electrodes concealed underneath it! Papa Bear must be a little tetchy about other people using his chair - he's wired it up to the mains! There's a cable connected to the electrodes which presumably supplies the juice.
  
  > get the antimacassar
  I already have that.
  
  > examine the cable
  I guess Papa Bear's a bit touchy about other people sitting in his chair! A cable attached to the electrodes disappears into the back of the chair. I think it must supply the power to those electrodes!
  
  > look at the medium chair
  It's a disgusting shade of pink with orange flowers but it looks really comfortable! If someone really heavy sat on that they'd sink without trace!
  
  > examine the tiny chair
  A small self-assembly chair of Swedish design that evokes the wholesome, healthy lifestyle of the Scandinavian people. On the bottom it says 'Made in China.'