If you’re familiar with text adventures, jump right in. If not, sit back and watch for awhile until you get the hang of it (or play this for awhile).
I’ll be the ‘computer’ and I’m pretty much making this up on the fly, so don’t expect any grand resolution or anything. Nothing is too absurd, so try anything (no, this isn’t a Sierra Adventure, you won’t die.) Take turns playing. In case of a double post, I’ll make a judgement call based upon the best decision, or do both/all actions.
You have amnesia. You are in a room. There is a window to the north. A bathroom is to the east, and the hallway is to the west. There is a dresser. There is a wallet on the dresser. There is a bookshelf. There is a bed. You are in bed.
(In the interests of conserving board resources, we should probably stick to giving more than one command at a time. Or at least giving very general commands.)
You now have the wallet.
The dresser is now open.
There is a set of keys in the dresser.
The bed is very bed-like.
There are no monsters under the bed.
The bookcase has lots of books: “Our Bodies, Ourselves,” “The Straight Dope,” and “Ketchup and Mustard: The Untold History” are just a few.
You see a tree outside the window. You are on the first floor.
The wallet contains $5, a credit card, and a driver’s license. The driver’s license says “Ralph McKenzie.”
Take keys
Take 3 books mentioned
Examine self (forgot this one earlier)
Examine keys
Read books in inventory
Examine $5
Examine credit card
Examine drivers license
Examine tree
Go East
(yes I tend to take a long time to beat these games. Why do you ask?)
Inventory. Open curtains, close curtains several times. See if anything falls from the curtains or curtain rod. Look under dresser. Take keys. Flip through books, checking for hidden compartments and/or items hidden in pages.
East. Examine sink. X toilet. Open toilet tank, look in there. Use toilet and wash hands. Take all, including shower. Open any cupboards, cabinets, drawers.
The keys jingle jangle in your pocket.
You cram the books in your pocket.
You’re quite the stud, if you do say so yourself. Still stanky.
There is nothing extraordinary about the keys.
You are now 3 books smarter. A 4 leaf clover comes out of the ketchup and mustard book. You put it in your hair.
Honest Abe stares back at you intently.
The credit card is a GeneriBank Platinum, with the name Ralph McKenzie on it.
The drivers license is to operate a Class D vehicle, with restriction 01 on it (glasses, contacts).
The tree is solid.
You have: Everything you took before, and nothing more.
The curtains open and close, revealing much dust, and a book of matches from McKenzie’s Bar.
There are no monsters under the dresser either. Nothing special in the books.
You are in the bathroom.
The sink is very pretty, with lots of neat nicknacks on it. They are all glued down from years of not watching the bathroom, though. You slob.
The toilet now has a large, lipstick colored X on it.
The tank has a brick in it.
You [censored], neglecting to flush. Your hands are clean.
The shower will not fit in your pocket, nor will the brick. You instead opt to use the shower, getting rid of your stank.
The sink cabinet opens with a squeak, revealing a gym bag. You put the brick in there.
Even if you are a doctor, you have amnesia and are unable to remember your medical training.
(That’s it for tonight. Keep doing things, just don’t do anything conflicting! I’ll be back in the morning/afternoon)
QUOTE=Otanx]examine nicknacks
examine toilet
flush toilet
put books in gym bag
take bag
examine bathroom
[/QUOTE]
Upon further inspection, the nicknacks have molecularly bonded with the sink counter.
The toilet is full of shit.
The toilet is full of water.
You uncram the books from your pocket, and put them in the bag. They are now water damaged from the wet brick.
The bag is yours.
The bathroom definitely has no portals to hell. There is nothing here.
The bag is too big for your mouth.
The books are soggy and do not taste good.
The brick is probably best not eaten.
The shower is too dirty to eat.
Self-cannibalism is not a wise decision right now.
Bless you.
Your vocal cords are now stretched.
The bag contains:
A brick
Soggy books
There is nobody here to score with.
The toilet flushes again. Nothing spectacular happens.
Your name isn’t Larry.
You get dressed in something comfortable, yet respectable.
Despite your best wishes, there are no stairs here.
Your throat hurts now.