Part 3
Right, the parser's not that sophisticated. Let's try something simpler.quote:
An offensively bright and cheery young delivery man, obviously one of those rats who gets up every morning feeling cheerful and loves his work, stands in the doorway, holding a bag of llama treats.
>delivery man, those aren't mine
[You must have special permission to use the word "those" in this story.]
[Your blood pressure just went up.]
>delivery man, I don't own a llama
[You must have special permission to use the word "don't" in this story.]
[Your blood pressure just went up.]
Won't take no for an answer, eh? Maybe I can explain the situation to you...quote:
>delivery man, no
The delivery man decides to ignore your request.
quote:
>delivery man, i am mr huxley
[This story isn't allowed to recognise the word "huxley."]
[Your blood pressure just went up.]
>delivery man, this is 111
[There aren't any verbs in that sentence.]
[Your blood pressure just went up.]
PARSER!I had no idea until just this moment that it would bitch at you for yelling!quote:
>delivery man, i am a MR!
There's absolutely no need to get excited!!!
[Your blood pressure just went up.]
[Please try to express that another way.]
[Your blood pressure just went up.]
(Note - we are not, in fact, a man. As we filled out in the original form, we are "MS HUXLEY". Whenever the game calls us MR HUXLEY, it's being an ass.)
All this screwing around has gotten our blood pressure up to 197/118. I wonder how high we can get it?
It wouldn't be a slowbeef thread without a head explosion!quote:
>delivery man, this is the wrong address
[You must have special permission to use the word "wrong" in this story.]
[Your blood pressure just went up.]
>delivery man, go away
The delivery man pretends not to hear your request.
>delivery man, i keep my llama in the bedroom. want to come in and... pet it?
[This story can't understand the word "keep" when you use it that way.]
Your blood pressure soars to 237/138, causing a small vessel in your brain to rupture. You sink into coma and die without pain.
Death
You are dead.
[Your blood pressure is 0/0, in 17 moves. Your status is Defunct. Your score
is 0 out of a possible 21, making you a Victim.]
Do you want to RESTORE a previously saved position, RESTART from the
beginning, or QUIT?
[Type RESTORE, RESTART or QUIT.] >
Fortunately, I am smart and save often. Let's back up, stop fighting with the parser, and just get rid of him.
Hooray! He's gone! Except... this is an adventure game. We probably needed those llama treats. I think we just lost.quote:
An offensively bright and cheery young delivery man, obviously one of those rats who gets up every morning feeling cheerful and loves his work, stands in the doorway, holding a bag of llama treats.
>delivery man, go away
The delivery man pretends not to hear your request.
>close door
You slam the front door in the delivery man's face. You can hear him muttering a traditional llama-food delivery man's curse upon you, your familyand your llamas as he walks away.
Reload:
That's our blood pressure going down. Whew.quote:
An offensively bright and cheery young delivery man, obviously one of those rats who gets up every morning feeling cheerful and loves his work, stands in the doorway, holding a bag of llama treats.
>look at delivery man
He's wearing, with obvious and inexplicable pride, a mulberry-coloured uniform marked CHOWMAIL OVERNITE, and is holding a bag of llama treats.
"I'm authorized to accept both Beezer and US Excess," the delivery man remarks hopefully.
>look at treats
It's a closed bag of Llamex(R) brand High-Fibre Llama Treats (with New! Improved! Spillproof SuperSack(TM)!).
The delivery man glances around the room. "Just moved in, eh?" he comments. "Nice place."
>take treats
"Don't touch the llama merchandise, lady," scolds the delivery man, backing away from you.
"The authorized charge is $41.75," the delivery man reminds you. "Beezer or US Excess."
>ask man for treats
The delivery man doesn't respond.
You're beginning to feel normal again.
The delivery man hums the TV jingles for Beezer and US Excess.
$41.75, eh? Didn't the intro say we couldn't get into our bank account? I dunno if we should be spending any money until that's sorted out. Maybe we can get him to waive the charges...
Lamest error message ever.quote:
>kiss man
There's no point in doing that.
Fine, I'll give you my credit card.quote:
The delivery man clears his throat impatiently. "Look, lady, you don't have to accept this delivery if you don't want it."
>seduce man
[The word "seduce" hasn't been approved for use in this story.]
[Your blood pressure just went up.]
No, wait, no - argh!quote:
>give american excess to man
[This story can't understand the word "american" when you use it that way.]
[Your blood pressure just went up.]
>get us excess to man
[taking the wallet first]
You take the US Excess card out of the wallet.
The delivery man shrugs. "All right, then, never mind. Good day."
He shuts the front door as he leaves.
>
Reload.
RESTORE.quote:
>reload
[You must have special permission to use the word "reload" in this story.]
[Your blood pressure just went up.]
>
We've solved our first puzzle!quote:
An offensively bright and cheery young delivery man, obviously one of those rats who gets up every morning feeling cheerful and loves his work, stands in the doorway, holding a bag of llama treats.
>look in wallet
[Taking the wallet first]
You see a US Excess card and a Beezer card in the wallet.
"I'm authorized to accept both Beezer and US Excess," the delivery man remarks hopefully.
>give us excess to man
[taking the US Excess card out of the wallet first]
The delivery man glances at your US Excess card and shakes his head. "Sorry,"he says, handing the card back to you. "This expired last month. Hey!" he says, with the air of someone who has just thought of a new philosophical explanation of life, suffering and why there's never enough Chinese ravioli for everyone at dinner to have a second one each, "You know what you should do? You should get your bank to send you another one."
Incredibly, you resist the urge to kill the worthless cake-brain on the spot.
>give beezer to man
[taking the Beezer card out of the wallet first]
The delivery man makes an imprint of your Beezer card with his portable Imprint-O-Mat, gets you to sign a ridiculous form (which you notice in passing contains a larger number than there are things in the known Universe) and hands the card back to you.
"Thank you," he says, depositing the bag at your feet. "If ever your future pet-feeding plans call for llama food, I hope you'll think of Chowmail. Have a nice day!"
The man closes the front door. You can hear him whistling a cheery llama-food delivery tune as he walks away.
>
Boo.quote:
>score
[Your blood pressure is 123/81, in 12 moves. Your status is Stable. Your
score is 0 out of a possible 21, making you a Victim.]
>
So what's next? Dick around the house to be sure we don't miss anything, or off to the bank to get this credit card problem sorted out?