text: [Themes: Slice of life, male protagonist, sexual content, coming of age, high school]
  
  > Describe the surroundings
  This is a room full of massive black worktables, each of them with their own sinks. An even larger demonstration table squats at the front of the room. It's weird to see the moon shining through the window you're so accustomed to staring out of during the day. There's an exit to the south.
  
  You can see a storage cupboard (in which are a left compartment (which is closed) and a right compartment (which is closed)) here.
  
  > Go south
  Well, naturally, they've locked you in.
  
  > search the cupboard
  In the storage cupboard are a left compartment and a right compartment.
  
  > open right
  You're shocked to find it unlocked. You open the right compartment, revealing some chemicals and solutions.
  
  > examine the chemicals
  There's so many!
  
  > get the chemicals
  There's too many to take them all -- specify what chemicals you'd like to take from the right compartment.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  a container of ammonium hydroxide
  some iodine
  a bottle (which is open but empty)
  a dance ticket
  some Doc Martens boots (being worn)
  a zine
  your middle finger
  
  > put the iodine in the bottle
  You put the iodine into the bottle.
  
  > put the ammonium in bottle
  Slopping a little, you manage to fill the mickey with solution.
  
  > Shake bottle
  Making sure the bottle's closed, you shake it for a while. It's hard to tell in this light, but the concoction seems a little red.
  
  > look
  This is a room full of massive black worktables, each of them with their own sinks. An even larger demonstration table squats at the front of the room. It's weird to see the moon shining through the window you're so accustomed to staring out of during the day. There's an exit to the south.
  
  You can see a storage cupboard (in which are a left compartment (which is closed) and a right compartment (in which are some chemicals and solutions)) here.
  
  > go east
  You clamber out the window and cautiously climb down the trellis...
  
  A track rings the large multi-purpose field, and trees ring the track. The school looms to the west, its window eyes silently judging the players. This is where boys become men, where the raw ore of youth is pounded into iron, where the limits of the body and spirit are tested.
  
  Where the jocks frolic, in other words.
  
  The halfmoon seems to have a sickly glow, but that might be your nausea talking.
  
  > Go north
  These one-room portables are meant to be temporary but these battered aluminium boxes look older than the school itself. Ugly things, but they do serve nicely to obscure the activities of the Path from prying eyes in the school. You can venture south to the field or enter the playground by going west.
  
  The halfmoon seems to have a sickly glow, but that might be your nausea talking.
  
  > Go west
  The asphalt is painted with various arcane white lines which you assume are used in playing something, but you've never seen anyone doing anything but shooting hoops here. The side door to the school cafeteria is propped open to the west, the portables squat to the east, or you can go AWOL and head north.
  
  The halfmoon seems to have a sickly glow, but that might be your nausea talking.
  
  > go to the north
  This is the road that heads north to the outside world and south back to the school. At the end of the school day it's choked with escaping boys, but now it's completely featureless.
  
  Beside the lane is a rather large concrete sign, with a cross on one side and an empty pedestal on the other.
  
  The halfmoon seems to have a sickly glow, but that might be your nausea talking.
  
  > examine the pedestal
  It's a concrete block with holes drilled in it, presumably for securing something to.
  
  Your liquor-addled brain seems to recall that the secretary said the statue would be reinstalled tomorrow. "Popey's comin' home," you mumble to yourself.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  a container of ammonium hydroxide
  a bottle (which is closed)
  a precipitate
  a dance ticket
  some Doc Martens boots (being worn)
  a zine
  your middle finger
  
  > open the bottle
  You open the bottle.
  
  > put the precipitate on the pedestal
  After the reddish substance glugs out of the bottle and onto the pedestal, you spread it out with the flat edge of the bottle.
  
  [You get 20 punk points for that.]
  
  Satisfied with your night's work, you toss the bottle and head off for home.
  
  The following Monday, you note the blackened pedestal with satisfaction, and the Path is abuzz with the mystery. "I saw it in the office," Stuart was saying gleefully. "Only the head is left, the rest of the statue is totally trashed. They had a crane lower it and then BOOM!"
  
  "You think someone blew up the Pope?" says one of the older boys. "Naw. You'd need a remote control or something. They probably just dropped it."
  
  "Actually, you wouldn't need a remote," you say. "If you spread a large enough quantity of, say, ammonium triiodide and let it dry..." you say, trailing off. When you notice you have everyone's attention, you grin. "That's just hypothetical, of course."
  
  > look
  The office is quiet and orderly, with a large counter separating the office proper from the visitors. Two doors against the far wall are, according to the signs, the lairs of Brother Matthews and Mr. Pannus, and sandwiched between them is a massive painting of Pope Innocent III.
  
  On the counter are some slips.
  
  Although she's keying information into the computer, the secretary's huge glasses make it impossible to tell if she's looking at you.
  
  > look
  Everyone's staring at you. Drink or give it to someone else.
  
  > give the bottle to Stu
  You try to pass it on. Stu grabs the bottle and gives it back to you. "Drink up, H.C."
  
  You make a face.
  
  "I don't believe that the guy who's been bumming smokes from me all week won't have a drink with me!"
  
  > give the bottle to Stu
  You ignore Stu's scowl and pass it on.
  
  "So I was like, 'Jackson -- just go in and get it,'" Stuart says. "You dress like someone's dad, they'll never ask you for ID.' But he wouldn't. so we had to wait for some rocker to come along who'd buy for us."
  
  Dave takes two swigs and hands it to Jackson, who passes it of to Stuart. "C'mon guy," Stu says, "Show Hardcore here how it's done."
  
  "You remember what happened the last time," Jackson says. "I want to actually get into the dance this time. Penis has still got me in detention from last year!"
  
  "Well, I mean, you puked in front of him," Dave says with a rare smile. "We're lucky we went in before you."
  
  Stuart is snickering. "You were so fucked that night. The only thing that sucked about it was that you had a chance to puke on Penis and you puked on your own shoes. That's a shame."
  
  "Well," Jackson says, "They're obviously going to be watching me tonight, and I want to get into the dance."
  
  "So you can show off all your skanking skills when they play One Step Beyond?" says Stuart, getting to his feet and mock-dancing.
  
  Jackson laughs, watching Stuart's scowling dance moves.
  
  "Ah, it's going to blow anyway," says Dave, passing the bottle to Stuart. "The last time we missed the only Cult song they played."
  
  "That's why we should have got the stuff faster," says Stuart over the bottle. "We would have gotten in with the first rush of people and no one would notice we were drunk."
  
  "Yeah, it's not like we stick out or anything," Jackson says dryly. "Besides, who was the one who was a half-hour late getting to my place tonight?"
  
  "How hard is it to go into a store and buy something?" says Stuart.
  
  "You're almost a year older than me. You're sixteen," Jackson says.
  
  You're a bit nervous with the mention of age, since you're thirteen.
  
  Rolling his eyes, Stuart takes the bottle from Dave and finishes it off. "It doesn't have anything to do with that. With my innocent young face, I couldn't buy milk past the due date."
  
  "OK, let's go," Jackson says, getting to his feet and pulling out some gum. He hands everyone one piece, which you start to chew. Blueberry.
  
  Everyone heads west, taking careful steps, and as you pass the portables Stuart whips the empty bottle into the night. A second or two later there's a distant, but still tremendously satisfying, smash.
  
  You enter the school, Stu crowing and pumping his fist, until you get to the side of the walk through the caf to where they've set up the ticket table.
  
  You and Jackson get in with your tickets but Stuart and Dave are stopped at the door.
  
  As you enter the stairwell area, you hear a crash from the caf. Mr. Collins, hockey stick in hand, rushes past you.
  
  Jackson gives you a raised eyebrow and heads down the stairs. You follow him to...
  
  All the disco balls in the world can't hide the fact that this is a school gym with the lights off. They've hung streamers from the basketball nets and two gigantic speakers flank the DJ's table on the stage. The washroom is to the south and you can leave up the stairs to the east. The student council has done a half-assed job of decorating the walls with construction paper leaves, footballs and Peanuts characters, but what's leaning against the walls is far more interesting: shy clumps of girls. Your heart speeds up to match the diamonds of light that sweep the floor, which has a few dancers on it.
  
  > examine the girls
  They're little more than silhouettes, but they certainly are female.
  
  Jackson goes straight up to the DJ and makes some requests. He comes back and says something inaudible and gives you the thumbs-up. You smile back.
  
  > ask the girls about the dance
  Sure, you'd like to talk to the girls... but even if the music was low enough, there would still be the paralyzing fear issue.
  
  > ask Jackson about the music
  The music's really too loud for conversation.
  
  The DJ plays some rap that you don't know. Jackson leans back against the wall and crosses his arms, and you do the same.
  
  > examine DJ
  The DJ is way too into it, his eyes closed and head bobbing. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to be addicted to the mike.
  
  > look at Jackson
  He's got his white Fred Perry shirt on and pressed trouserpipe pants for the dance.
  
  Billy Idol comes on. For some reason, the crowd chants "Get Laid, Get Fucked" at the chorus -- naturally, so do you, as abstract as those concepts are to you.
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  > Dance
  You move around a bit, but without decent music you can't really get into it.
  
  Synthesizer music starts up, attracting preps like flies.
  
  > wait for a while
  Time passes.
  
  The Clash's "Should I Stay or Should I Go" starts up. Jackson starts dancing, an intense little hopping coupled with a mouthing of the words that shows his lyrical knowledge.
  
  > Dance
  Watching Jackson, you slowly start moving -- swaying first, and then stepping back and forth, getting closer to the other dancers. Jackson playfully knocks into you, and you start to really get into it, closing your eyes and bouncing around and off Jackson. When the song finishes you're sweaty and exhilarated and amazed that no one is pointing and laughing.
  
  [You got 5 punk points for that.]
  
  After the song, a guy and a girl come up to you. The guy starts talking to Jackson, or rather, shouting over the music. He seems to know him.
  
  > ask the dj about Vicious
  The girl has really short hair except for her bangs. She's wearing a black leather jacket and a laced up skirt.
  
  Smiling, perhaps, at the attention you're giving her, she shouts something. You shake your head and cup your ear. She tries again, and then just points at the exit. Seeing Jackson and the guy were somehow communicating -- mostly with hand signals -- you go upstairs.
  
  "I like how you dance," she says, walking up the stairs. In the sudden light, you can see that she has way too much makeup and that her legs are a little thick. "You can tell a lot about a person by how they dance."
  
  You nod, dumbly.
  
  "So you go here?" she says, looking around and noticing the gym teacher, standing in front of the stairs.
  
  "Yeah, it sucks," you mumble, stunned at your eloquence.
  
  "They're fucking fascists at my school too," she said, staring daggers at Collins. "But they're stupid..."
  
  She raises her voice. "I can't believe he was making the sign of Satan during that song! I mean, in a Catholic school!" she says, her voice echoing in the stairwell.
  
  Collins blinks, folds his arms, unfolds them, and finally heads downstairs.
  
  "I'm Kim," she says, watching him go. "Spelled like gym."
  
  You shake her hand admiringly.
  
  "Let's explore," she says, heading upstairs. You follow her.
  
  Second Floor, East
  The science lab is to the north and stairs lead up and down. Grey lockers line the walls, as do doors to various classrooms.
  
  A cute punk girl is here, trying to look bored.
  
  The half-power night florescents gives your surroundings an eerie cast.
  
  Kym, her green eyes aglow with mischievous excitement, heads west down the hall checking doors.
  
  A second later, Kym whisper-yells "Hey! This one's open!" and then disappears south into the office.
  
  You can't see any such thing.
  
  > Go south
  Locked. Teachers aren't morons, you know.
  
  > look
  Second Floor, East
  The science lab is to the north and stairs lead up and down. Grey lockers line the walls, as do doors to various classrooms.
  
  The half-power night florescents gives your surroundings an eerie cast.
  
  > go west
  Second Floor, West
  There's a prominently displayed trophy case and rows and rows of official looking plaques to impress parents on their way south to the office. The hallway continues east, and north is the way back outside.
  
  The half-power night florescents gives your surroundings an eerie cast.
  
  > Go south
  The office is quiet and orderly, with a large counter separating the office proper from the visitors. Two doors against the far wall are, according to the signs, the lairs of Brother Matthews and Mr. Pannus, and sandwiched between them is a massive painting of Pope Innocent III.
  
  The office is dark except for the glow of the computer monitor. Kym moves towards it immediately, pushing through the little swinging door in the counter -- it nearly snaps shut on its spring, but you catch it in time.
  
  "Sorry," she whispers, sitting down in front of the screen. "Wow, an XT," she breathes. She hits the spacebar and a password request comes up. She tries a few: Jesus, God, Pope.
  
  "Denied. Damn," she says.
  
  The half-power night florescents gives your surroundings an eerie cast.
  
  > look at the computer
  The school's '84 budget allowed for the purchasing of the creme de la creme of computing: they're called XTs. You don't know much about high tech beyond Pac Man, but you're pretty sure that's a 5.25" disk drive.
  
  > ask Kym about Innocent
  "Do you think I know everything?" Kym cracks.
  
  > Type innocent
  To talk to people, ASK ____ ABOUT ____.
  
  > show innocent to Kym
  (first taking the painting of Pope Innocent III)
  Don't bother with that.
  
  > Kiss kym
  Keep your mind on the game.
  
  > say innocent
  (to Kym)
  To talk to people, ASK ____ ABOUT ____.
  
  > Go upwards
  Third Floor, East
  This is as high as this high school gets. You can go back down, south to the library, or you can follow the hallway west. Lockers and classroom doors line the walls.
  
  The half-power night florescents gives your surroundings an eerie cast.
  
  > go to the west
  Third Floor, West
  This is the most remote part of the school, and so naturally your locker is here. For added fun, the detention room is directly north -- its deadly silences punctuated by barked orders and sobs ensure that you visit your locker as infrequently as possible.
  
  The half-power night florescents gives your surroundings an eerie cast.
  
  > go south
  The musty little room is choked with books, with only barely enough room for a reading table and the librarian's desk. It's hard to imagine a better way to discourage reading.
  
  There's a paperback spread-eagled on the librarian's desk.
  
  The half-power night florescents gives your surroundings an eerie cast.
  
  > look at the paperback
  "Tough Love: Power Popes Through The Ages" is the title of the book. Smaller type on the back informs that the Expanded Edition Includes "Misery and the Human Condition".
  
  > read the paperback
  "Tough Love: Power Popes Through The Ages" is the title of the book. Smaller type on the back informs that the Expanded Edition Includes "Misery and the Human Condition". You flip through it, your eye drawn by a red underline in a chapter about Pope Innocent III. Someone liked the word "Vergentis" -- it's underlined and annotated in the same red pen: "Perfect!".
  
  > Go south
  The office is quiet and orderly, with a large counter separating the office proper from the visitors. Two doors against the far wall are, according to the signs, the lairs of Brother Matthews and Mr. Pannus, and sandwiched between them is a massive painting of Pope Innocent III.
  
  Kym's face is an unearthly green as she tries password after password.
  
  The half-power night florescents gives your surroundings an eerie cast.
  
  > give the book to Kym
  "What's this?" She flips through it. "Vergentis, huh," she murmurs, typing it in. "Ha!" she says, and you sit down beside her. "Nice work, sleuth," she says, plucking the back of your mohawk. Your mouth curls a little involuntarily at the contact, and she notices.
  
  She looks at you for a second. "You're not so tough when you smile..."
  
  > Kiss kym
  You lean in towards her, noticing how the letters from the computer screen reflect in her eyes before she closes them. A dry kiss, and then a not-so-dry one, and then her tongue is in your mouth. You slide your hand down the back of her shaved head and onto her studded collar as she slides her hand up your leg. You grip her collar and gasp as she slides her hand across your crotch and down the other leg.
  
  She smiles at you and bites her lip. "Wanna?"
  
  > No
  She shrugs. "Yeah, me neither," she  says, sitting at the computer.
  
  She turns back to the screen and starts looking through the school records. "Oh, man, there's some good stuff here... teacher's salaries... wow, the entire annual budget?"
  
  She pulls a small skull-festooned notebook out of her jacket pocket and starts writing things down. "Fuck, I can barely see..."
  
  > Yes
  That was a rhetorical question.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  a paperback
  a dance ticket
  some Doc Martens boots (being worn)
  a zine
  your middle finger
  
  > Go south
  The office is quiet and orderly, with a large counter separating the office proper from the visitors. Two doors against the far wall are, according to the signs, the lairs of Brother Matthews and Mr. Pannus, and sandwiched between them is a massive painting of Pope Innocent III.
  
  Kym's face is an unearthly green as she tries password after password.
  
  The half-power night florescents gives your surroundings an eerie cast.
  
  > Yes
  You nod, not sure exactly what she has planned but not really fussy, either. She moves the chairs enough so she can lie down behind the secretary's desk. Her face is suddenly serious, and young, and then she pulls up her skirt. You take off your pants, thanking god that the dark hid the baby blue of your underwear, and lie down beside her.
  
  When you're fucking, you think about how you can hear the music from downstairs, that you're a few inches away from Pannus' office, that it feels really different than jacking off, that neither of you have moaned in a few minutes.
  
  So you pull out and yank your pants up over your still-hard cock. She gets her panties from under one of the desks and dresses. "Thanks," you say, aware of the sub-porn quality of what just happened, but not wanting her to feel bad.
  
  She shrugs, and moves the chair back to the computer. "I don't know what the big fuss is about," she says, sitting down.
  
  She turns back to the screen and starts looking through the school records. "Oh, man, there's some good stuff here... teacher's salaries... wow, the entire annual budget?"
  
  She pulls a small skull-festooned notebook out of her jacket pocket and starts writing things down. "Fuck, I can barely see..."