Friday, January 14, 2011

Fingernail in the Coffin

Brad: Shay
Brad: do you realize we have new followers on our textellent adventures?
Brad and Shay turn to look at the audience.
Shay : ooh

Shay : well you linked it on
Brad: yes
Brad: and slothfurnace has gotten (checks statistics) 8491269 hits just in January
Shay : wow
Shay : it's almost like we should do another one or something ... sys32592
Brad: Welcome to LaundryLauncher! Please insert 0.75 cents.
Shay : insert coins
Brad: Please enter kind of coins inserted: ________
Shay : doubloons
Brad: You awaken in a large, dilapidated Laundromat. It is dusk outside, and you are alone. Beyond the grimy windows you hear a faint shuffling.
Shay : look
Brad: You see a large, dilapidated Laundromat. Banks of aged, abandoned washing machines sit alone, yearning for the days gone by when they cheerfully accepted peoples dirty clothes into their gaping maws. One machine in particular has it's door opening and closing rhythmically. A heap of clothes below it.
Shay : look clothes
Brad: You stand next to the heap of clothes. Darks and whites, and colors haphazardly mixed together with no regard for color bleed or dingy whites.
Shay : tsk
Shay : sort out whites
Brad: Don't understand "out"
Shay : sort whites
Brad: Son't understand Dort
Shay : look Dort
Brad: You glance at Dort, your biomechanical sidekick. He has been deactivated, and his robotparts removed. He was a good cyborg chum. He will be missed.
Shay : look rhythmically gaping washer
Brad: You bend down to examine the gaping washer.... you hear a kind of mechanical wind. almost a breathing noise as the door opens and closes. The washing machine seems oddly tilted, as if it wasn't installed correctly.
Shay : put whites in machine
Brad: RACISM - BAD - MINUS 45 points
Shay : put white clothes in machine
Brad: You attempt to place colorless clothing into the washing machine.. as you open the door, the washing machine suddenly snorts to life and attempts to bite your hand off. You drop the clothes and scamper away as a whole flock of washing machine monsters wake up and detect your intrusion into their hive. ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED - AGITATION CYCLE
Shay : look for exit
Brad: Don't understand "For"
Shay : look exit
Brad: You assume the shape of an exit. The hordes of demon appliances escape through you into dimensions unknown.
Shay : look at self
Brad: You have no mirror
Shay : i
Brad: You are carrying: 0.75 cents, A map of DETROIT, two tickets to the county faire, a SKELETON KEY
Shay : shape shift into roboparts
Brad: You cannot do that
Shay : exit through self
Brad: There are demons in there, you don't want to go to there.
Shay : look windows
Brad: You view a shattered dystopia. The streets cluttered with trash and debris. A newspaper outside catches your eye. In 48pt bold Helvetica (above the fold) it reads: "CATASTROPHE!" Below it in 24 pt bold Garamond, the kicker reads: "Full story of how we are doomed below the fold."
Shay : Read story
Brad: The rest of the story is folded underneath the newspaper.
Shay : look
Brad: You stand inside an abandoned Laundromat. One wall of machines gone, the lint and errant coins litter the floor where they once stood. The walls bare except for the windows you are looking through and the doorway clearly marked EXIT to you left.
Shay : exit
Brad: You easily exit the Laundromat. You are standing in a cluttered street. A newspaper at your feet. A skittering noise turns your head to see some wires and tubing creeping away from you around the corner.
Shay : take newspaper, examine fonts in greater detail
Brad: You regard the font choices, layout and headline design in great admiration. The cool, sharp sans serif leaping of the page into your eyeholes and reminding you of the days when newspapers were read by men and women. The faint aroma of ink sends chills down your spine.
Shay : look hands
Brad: You are holding a newspaper which contains the fate of your people. Why they would stop to make a run of printed news while being wiped out tugs at your brain, but is a mystery for another time.
Shay : drop newspaper, check cleanliness of hands
Brad: You drop the newspaper, as it falls to the ground it shatters into dust, as it was extremely old. Your hands are perfectly clean, no OIL or harm is present.
Shay : check fingernails
Brad: Your fingernails are all missing.
Shay : scream
Brad: As you lift your head to scream, you realize screaming would only alert predators to your location. And that's exactly what they're expecting.
Shay : listen
Brad: You faintly hear the sounds of a carnival merry go round off in the distance to the WEST. You also hear the rumblings of the DEMON WASHING MACHINES forever banished to your insides.
Shay : w
Brad: You have voted for George W. Bush. Welcome to the GOP
Shay : undo
Shay : undoundoundoundoundo
Shay : go west
Shay : press TURBO button
Brad: You now enjoy the scent of cake.
Shay : release the demonic washing machines
Brad: You release the imprisoned washing machine monsters. They encircle you, regarding your "I Voted For Dubya" wardrobe. Collectively they decide you should be torn asunder for your opinionated political display, and your lack of adherence to constitutional law, which prohibits time travel voting. As you mildly protest being eaten by washing machines, a parade of possessed household appliances wanders by singing in the "49th annual extinction of humans day parade"
Brad: You have died
Brad: Score: 482 Score Tax: 15%. Total Score: 86
Shay : check fingernails
Brad: With your last effort, you watch your fingernails at the controls of the foremost parade float. They have done this. They are the reason for the season. Game Over.
Shay : wow
Brad: Bet you didn't see that coming.
Shay : so is that, like, an allegory? a cautionary tale? about the danger of giving too much control to presidents, and/or fingernails?
Brad: Obviously your fingernails took over the world in 2012, and ushered in the rise of sentient evil household appliances.
Shay : because of their cunning use of fonts, which they used to distract the people from both the oncoming machine uprising and peoples' evolved abilities to turn into exits.
Brad: It's essentially a tale of two cities meets Alias Smith and Jones.
Brad: had you figured out that you were only holding 3/4 of a penny the whole time, you might have survived
Shay : ah, of course, it was so obvious.
Brad: But yeah, you lost anyway.

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