text: [Themes: Comedy, Lovecraftian]
  
  > Go west
  You pause at the entrance of the real estate office to reread the telegram in your pocket, scanning the curt missive for any additional clues as to what the hell your husband hosed up this time. No
  dice. A wave of sheer black terror washes up into your pharynx, and you fight it back down.
  
  It's fine. It'll be fine. You saved his ass that time with the vampire yacht (stupid), you got him and yourself out of the sentient
  wax museum (so careless), you even... it is not worth
  thinking about the guy with the drill hands right now. It is
  never worth thinking about the guy with the drill hands. It's
  fine. It'll be fine.
  
  Your solid gold instincts have led you to this office, which means there's something you need to steal from inside of it, so you
  tell your brain to shut its trap, adjust your backpack on your shoulder, and push firmly through the door into the stale chill of the air conditioning.
  The woman behind the desk jerks her head up from a pile of papers as you enter, clearly surprised to have a customer. "Oh, hello!" she says. "Can I facts you about a house? Ugh, I mean, are you interested in a Forthright & Rotier property? I mean, they're all our --
  we're the only realtor in -- hello!"
  
  Estate Agent's Office (Jenni Polodna)
  The space is dominated by the unexpectedly symbiotic combination of a giant desk and a tiny woman, who together give the impression of being one complete single entity, like a centaur. The surface of the desk is invisible underneath a loose pile of glossy architectural magazines, manila folders, and real estate listings pamphlets. Behind it, a gunmetal-grey filing cabinet lurks unattractively in the far corner. The exit back out to the street is east.
  
  A tiny woman is here waiting to answer all of your Backwater real estate questions.
  
  > check your inventory
  You are carrying:
  a Jansport backpack (being worn and open)
  a key pocket (open but empty)
  a book pocket (open but empty)
  a side pocket (open but empty)
  a trash pocket (open but empty)
  a backpack features guide
  a coded telegram
  a book list
  a library card
  Peter's jacket
  The Modern Girl's Divination Handbook -- Volume Three
  a faint chill (haunting you)
  a cast iron spire
  a waterproof flashlight
  the diary of Phyllis Cragne
  a postcard of Big Ben
  a giant milkweed leaf (being worn as a mask)
  a pull-string doll
  a glass jar containing an insect
  a half-full styrofoam coffee cup
  a familiar gold wristwatch
  a brass winding key
  
  > About yourself
  You are Naomi Sparradew Cragne, nurse practitioner, born (prematurely) in 1972 to Keith and Esperanza Sparradew of Flagstaff, Arizona, both now sadly deceased.*
  
  As a child, your family owned horses, and you definitely know how to ride them, but you injured your hip in a bad fall on some black ice in Boston so you don't anymore. These days you get your horse itch scratched by volunteering with Stable America, a non-profit that provides riding therapy to trauma survivors.*
  
  You are married to Peter Cragne -- entrepreneur, amateur philosopher, and tennis enthusiast -- recently returned to Backwater, Vermont after an absence of twenty-three years to inherit the family mansion (such as it is).*
  
  * As far as any of these rubes know.
  
  > examine the woman
  The upper half of her body consists mostly of hair, insufficiently restrained with a blue plaid scrunchie. Twin octagonal shimmers beneath the hair suggest a pair of glasses. Her torso wears a t-shirt advertising the 1996 Muddy Crayfish Charity Run/Walk, sponsored by Forthright & Rotier.
  
  The lower half of her body is obscured by the giant desk, but your brain evolved over millennia to handle exactly this kind of situation, so without even thinking about it you assume she has two human legs instead of, say, half a kraken.
  
  > examine the telegram
  In the secret code you worked out with your husband, "forgot brown shoes" means "the plan has gone dog-tits-up and I could not be deeper in the crap canal," while "please send by earliest post" means "invent a pretext and come extricate me immediately."
  
  So, here you are in Backwater, Vermont, with a missing husband and no idea what to do next. It's great. Everything's great.
  
  > look at the backpack
  You bought this backpack specifically to do thefts with, and you love it. From the outside it's modestly sized and easy to carry, but the inside is surprisingly capacious -- you've used it to smuggle oil paintings, kayaks, and (best day of your life) the entire contents of a government warehouse in Roswell, New Mexico. In addition to the cavernous main pocket of the backpack itself, there's a key pocket for your keys, a book pocket for your books, a side pocket for your sidequests, and a trash pocket for your trash. Zippers on all of these pockets let you open and close them at will.
  
  In the Jansport backpack are a key pocket, a book pocket, a side pocket, a trash pocket and a backpack features guide.
  
  > examine the key pocket
  A heavily reinforced pocket to store your keys in, if you're the kind of person who has too many keys to fit on a keyring.
  
  > Examine features guide
  Welcome to the NEW 1998 Urban Adventurer Streetwarrior TRIPLE-REINFORCED Lifestyle Management System by Jansport!
  
  Incredible Updated Features:
  ** Separate zippable pockets let you hide things and reveal them at will!
  ** Brand new abbreviations: mp = main pocket, kp = key pocket, bp = book pocket, etc.!
  ** Time-saving upgrade for the adventurer on the go: LOOK IN or PUT [SOMETHING] IN a closed pocket without having to open it first!
  
  > ask the woman about the woman
  "I'm a real estate receptionist who is doing an admirable job of attempting to perform her work functions!" the tiny woman tells you. "Do you have any questions for me that a sane person might ask a real estate receptionist?"
  
  > ask the woman about real Estate
  The woman gestures towards the pamphlets on the desk. "We have some pamphlets with all of our current home listings, if you'd like to take one and look at it. Or if you have any questions about any buildings in town, I can answer those too! Forthright and Rotier has been the only realtor in Backwater for over 200 years, so... yeah."
  
  > take the pamphlet
  You take a pamphlet of home listings off of the stack.
  
  > read the pamphlet
  || 8 BR 1 BA || Quiet neighborhood! Completely redone with brand new floors and concrete-sealed basement. Hardly any muttering!
  
  || 3 BR 2 BA || Great river views and convenient for boating! Trawl for crayfish from the comfort of your living room. Entire upstairs still mostly above water!
  
  || 2 BR 5 BA || An obelisk lover's dream! Extensive yard boasts a true infinity pool and an impressive collection of garden statuary, including twin sphinxes. Paradoxically nearby to everything!
  
  Underneath the description of 23 Euclid Street, someone has scrawled the words "JACKDAWS LOVE MY BIG SPHINX OF QUARTZ."
  
  > ask woman about the train station
  "That property is very historic and cool but not currently for sale!" the tiny woman says. "If you tell me more about yourself, I will be better able to analyze your needs and desires and attempt to resolve them by selling you a property that is for sale!"
  
  > tell the woman about yourself
  "Oh!" the woman exclaims. "You're the new wi-- I mean, you're Naomi Sparradew Cragne! Nice to meet you. I'm Bethany Tross." She boosts herself onto the desk to shake your hand. "I've got a huge file on Cragne Manor. It's absolutely fascinating. You're gonna love it." Lips slightly pursed, she surveys the mess on the desk. "Um. Just let me find it. Jeez. One sec."
  
  > ask the woman about the CRAGNE MANOR
  Bethany gathers all of the folders on the desk into her arms. "See, I'm getting a master's degree in local history, and this job is a gold mine for original documents," she explains. One by one she deposits each file into the cabinet, until only an empty-looking folder labeled CRAGNE MANOR remains. "Huh, it should be..." She flips it open, then with a disappointed look sets it on the desk in front of you.
  "Well, ratsack," she says. "I guess the Cragne Manor file's off being digitized. Ms. Rotier's been on this paperless office kick lately, which is weird, because we don't have a computer." Her expression brightens somewhat. "Any other buildings you want to know about? I'm not allowed to talk history at home anymore, not since the incident."
  Now that the desk is clean, you notice a paperback book that had been hiding underneath the folders.
  
  > Examine book
  A somewhat battered paperback whose lovingly fantasy-painted cover features a corseted steampunk woman embracing a Regency period nobleman -- who is also an anthropomorphic lion -- in space. "TWIN HEARTS BETWEEN THE PLANES," raised letters proclaim. "LEELAH VAUGHAN."
  
  Beneath the author's name, smaller text inside a sunburst informs you that this book was a 1981 Venus Rising nominee for "Best Sexual Tension." A shelving label for the Backwater Public Library covers the lower spine "[FIC / ERO / ANIMA / FELIS / YIKES]".
  
  This is it, your instincts whisper. This is the thing you
  need to steal. Also, look at it. It's amazing. Definitely steal
  that.
  
  > take the book
  This is it! This lion sex book is definitely the thing you need to steal. Even if it wasn't, you'd steal it anyway, for multiple reasons.
  
  You're gonna steal it smart, though, which means finding a
  moment when Bethany isn't watching.
  
  > ask the woman about the the incident
  "It's a funny story," Bethany says. You wait for her to tell it to you, but she doesn't.
  
  > ask the woman about Library
  Bethany's features descend into a half-scowl. "Oh, it's just another boring Andrew Carnegie library, blah blah blah 1908, $5000 budget, snooze me a river of dreams. It's gross, all the books in there are gross, if you go in there you'll be gross too." This unenthusiastic description of a historic building seems out of character, so you cock an eyebrow at her quizzically.
  
  Bethany catches your look and deflates. "That crappy librarian is in league with the Badfinger University Shadow Historians," she explains. "She won't let me have jack. They've got some real good
  original mystical documents and I want a job there so bad."
  
  She meets your eyes again. "Right, I'll get the folder."
  
  > take BOOK
  definitely the right idea. When you play the scenario out in
  your mind, though, it goes something like this:
  
  [IMAGINARY SCENE] You slip the book into your pocket. Bethany
  turns around, ready to drop the folder on the desk, and spots that the book is gone. Her octagonal eyes glow red, and each unruly curl of her hair transmogrifies into an individual tarantula with its own set of eight hairy legs. "WHERE IS MY BOOK?" she roars, shaking the walls of the real estate office.
  
  The desk grows a mouth and chomps you in half somewhere around the lumbar spine. Your lower half bleeds out on the berber carpet as the desk masticates your torso and eyeballs and hands and other parts of your body you like a lot and use often. With a satisfied expression, Bethany retrieves the novel from the bloodsoaked pocket of your JNCOs. "Now I can finally confess my truth," she tells your exposed kidneys. "I think reading about lion sex is kind of nice actually."[END IMAGINARY SCENE]
  
  ...okay, clearly this town has got you in a real weird headspace. The point is, you'll have to find a way to steal the book without Bethany noticing you've stolen it, or things might get... uncomfortable.
  
  "Folder located!" Bethany drops the folder onto the desk near Twin Hearts Between the Planes.
  
  > ask her about the office
  (Bethany about Forthright & Rotier Estate Agency)
  "Perfect! I'll just grab the folder for that," Bethany says, turning to search through the filing cabinet.
  
  > ask Bethany about the lion sex
  "Just a sec," Bethany says, voice echoing weirdly. You turn to look and she's got her head almost completely inside one of the cabinet drawers.
  
  "Here you go!" Bethany drops the folder onto the desk, partially covering Twin Hearts Between the Planes.
  
  > ask her about the church
  "Josiah Forthright was a master hypnotist whose specialty was getting people to desire things that no sane person would ever want," Bethany tells you. "Then, completely out of nowhere, he opened a real estate office in Backwater, Vermont. It's sad that he gave up on his dream like that, don't you think?"
  
  > ask her about the Church
  (Bethany about Backwater Church)
  "We definitely have a folder for that! One sec," Bethany says, turning to search through the filing cabinet.
  
  > take BOOK
  definitely the right idea. When you play the scenario out in
  your mind, though, it goes something like this:
  
  [IMAGINARY SCENE] You slip the book into your pocket. Bethany
  turns around, ready to drop the folder on the desk, and spots that the book is gone. Her octagonal eyes glow red, and each unruly curl of her hair transmogrifies into a cobra, its eyes glowing red and its fangs dripping venom. "WHERE IS MY BOOK?" she roars, shaking the walls of the real estate office.
  
  The desk grows a mouth and chomps you in half somewhere around the lumbar spine. Your lower half bleeds out on the berber carpet as the desk masticates your torso and eyeballs and hands and other parts of your body you like a lot and use often. With a satisfied expression, Bethany retrieves the novel from the bloodsoaked pocket of your JNCOs. "Now I can finally confess my truth," she tells your exposed kidneys. "I think reading about lion sex is kind of nice actually."[END IMAGINARY SCENE]
  
  ...okay, clearly this town has got you in a real weird headspace. The point is, you'll have to find a way to steal the book without Bethany noticing you've stolen it, or things might get... uncomfortable.
  
  "Who just found the folder she was looking for? This girl!" Bethany drops the folder onto the desk, partially covering Twin Hearts Between the Planes.
  
  > examine the file
  "Most people in town think Backwater Church changes religious affiliation once every seven years," Bethany says, "but guess what I found out? This whole time they've just been worshipping different incarnations of X'n'xa the Inevitable March Towards Death, which technically makes them Episcopalians. Religion is wild, huh?"