The Let's Play Archive


by JoeNotCharles

Part 2

Note: the cursor jumps around, forcing you to fill in the form in random order. It's quite annoying.

From here in, I'm putting text typed by the player in italics. Everything else comes from the game.

You wimped out and didn't give me your phone number, which conveniently enough is the first thing I have to fill in. I guess I'll make something up. See if you can figure out the significance!


Phone: 351-7271
Last name: HUXLEY
NOTE: How embarrassing for you.
Middle initial: Q
Zip: 55555
Previous girl/boy friend: PETER
NOTE: Now a famous porno star.
State: AK
Least favourite colour: BLACK
First name: PHILABOY
NOTE: What a dump.
Name of girl/boy friend: JIYESZIKA
NOTE: What a dog.
Last employer but one: CRACK DEALER
Your sex (M/F): F
Street name: 35TH
House number: 111
NOTE: Due to be condemned.

Ah. Abuse.


[Your blood pressure just went up.]

You have been granted Licence Number 870602.

Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Huxley. Have a nice day.

Mr? MR? Then whaddaya call these?


Well now, Mr Huxley, aren't you glad you left your previous job? The Deep Thought Corporation of America was of course a great company to work for, except for the no-coloured-socks dress code, and you really enjoyed being Vice President (Software Development), especially the opportunities it gave you to cause considerable inconvenience to many hundreds of thousands of people you had never met.

But Happitec is going to be much more fun. The money's better, it's a great place to live and work and you're really looking forward to your Paris vacation.

You're pretty pleased with your new home, too, and don't really mind that the removals company fouled up slightly due to a computer scheduling problem. After all, you won't be using your new place for the next two weeks, and they promised to have everything installed by the time you return.

In fact, the only tiny cloud on the horizon is a silly bit of bother with your bank about a change-of-address card. You know the sort of thing? You send them a change-of-address card, and they say "Oh dearie me, that's not our official change-of-address form, the computer won't like it a bit, you'llhave to fill in a proper one, we'll send one to you," and they do, but they send it to your old address along with your new US Excess card and your cheque book...?

Of course you know the sort of thing. It's exactly what has happened to you. But Happitec's enlightened employee policies mean you don't really care. After all, who needs money? Pick up your Happitec cheque, grab a bite of lunch, a cab to the airport and then you'll be living high on the hog at Happitec's expense. What a truly enviable situation you find yourself in, Mr Huxley.

A Paranoid Fantasy
Copyright (C) 1987 Infocom, Inc. All rights reserved.
Bureaucracy is a trademark of Infocom, Inc.
Interpreter 1 Version F
Release 116 / Licence Number 870602

Front Room
[Blood Pressure: 125/82]

This is the living room of your new house, a pretty nice room, actually. At least, it will be when all your stuff has arrived as the removals company said they would have done yesterday and now say they will do while you're on vacation. At the moment, however, it's a bit dull. Plain white, no carpets, no curtains, no furniture. A room to go bughouse in, really. Another room is visible to the west, and a closed front door leads outside.


To get our bearings, lets start with the basics: who are we, and what are we carrying?


>look at me
You're wearing a digital wristwatch.

You're not holding anything, but you're wearing a digital wristwatch. You also have a wallet in your pocket.


Douglas Adams has a thing about digital watches.


>look at watch
Your digital wristwatch says it's Saturday, 9:01 am.

The doorbell is ringing.


Oops, no more time to bum around "finding our bearings" - something's happening!


>open door
You open the front door.

"Hi," says the annoyingly bright young man in the doorway. "Chowmail Overnite. Are you Ms Huxley, of 113 35th?" He holds up a large burlap bag. "Here's your order of Llamex(R) brand High-Fibre Llama Treats!"


Ok, goons, it's up to you - how can we best humiliate the delivery man?