You are in a long north-south hallway, bustling with activity. The east side of the hallway is full of doors, each with a small brass sign on the wall to the left of the door. There is a plaque in the middle of the west wall. At the far north end is a door with a lit sign above it saying “EXIT.”
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You are in a large mundane room. I would describe it, but that would be pointless.
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As you begin speaking, a crowd starts to gather. You hold them rapt with your wittiness and the depth of your knowledge. Fourteen people inform you that they find your views fascinating and they wish to subscribe to your newsletter. Six correct your spelling. Eight disagree vehemently. Three complain that you didn’t bring pictures of your cat. Two complain that you let your cats outdoors. Four complain that you’re wearing your shoes in the MPSIMS room. One professes undying love.
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You have no tattoo equipment, but find a Sharpie ™ in your pocket. You write on your hands.
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There is no receptionist in MPSIMS.
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You find the thesaurus tasteless, bland, monotonous, weak, unexciting, insipid, and dull as dishwater.
You move through the southernmost door on the east wall of the hallway.
You are in a gigantic room. The north wall is a mosaic of flat-panel wide-screen TV sets, showing every sport from curling to NASCAR. People are standing three deep in front of the screens, many holding clipboards. They are analyzing–and arguing about–every aspect of the games.
A very long counter runs the full length of the south wall. There are power outlets behind the counter every 6 inches, and the counter is loaded with every imaginable model of computer and videogame console. The wall above the counter is full of shelves holding monitors, TV sets, and other displays. People are playing and analyzing–and arguing about–WoW, Final Fantasy, Zork Grand Inquisitor, GTA, Pong, MineSweeper, D&D Online, Bejeweled, and almost any other fantasy game you’ve ever heard of.
On the west wall are a series of daises, each with a person standing on it. They have labels like Feud and Mafia.
The center of the room is full of tables at which people are seated playing chess, Mahjong, strategy board games, CCGs, TCGs, poker, and more.
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I don’t know how to open thread “The Straight Dope Lounge”
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I don’t know how to be so put out with you.
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All of the mundane and/or pointless objects in this room have been moved to MPSIMS by moderators.
You leap onto a table and declare that the PC Gaming Master race is clearly and obviously superior to –
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– no, wait. You jump from the table and run across the room to the west wall. You approach the dais labeled Mafia and say, "Excuse me, but –
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– you drop your pants, settle into a comfortable position, and grab your –
A pleasantly-dressed woman with jackboots (smelling faintly of hot dogs) ((the woman, not the jackboots)) steps in front of you. Looking carefully into your eyes, and not one centimeter lower, she suggests that you might not be in the correct room for that particular behavior. She makes a note on a clipboard and walks away.
With your pants now pulled up and fastened firmly, you look around carefully. You see “MAFIA” on the dais in front of you. That was easy.
I’m sorry, it does not appear that your f p d can hold any more than 9 k of g. Perhaps you need a larger f p d?
As you ponder this question, a burly man approaches you. He has unruly red hair and an enormous beard to match. A bandana is wrapped around his head, and a parrot is riding on his shoulder. He has a heavy coat over a blousy white cotton shirt with ruffles. His pants are torn, he is barefoot, and he smells bad. He leans in close to you and says, “would ye like to play a game?”
The burly man rubs his fingers together with joy and turns his head to spit on the floor. The jackbooted woman gives him a frown and he pulls a bottle from his pocket and spits in that instead.
“Aye, then, we’re goin’ to play a word game, we are,” he says. “Ye need to give me three adjectives that would describe a kraken. Each word must be at least three syllables, and they must start with consecutive letters of the alphabet. One must be complimentary, one must be a deadly insult, and the third…”. He stops and smiles.
“The third word must have more letters than the other two, and must describe a kraken, but not describe me!”