Start of a transcript of: Who Whacked Jimmy Piņata? A Bubble Gumshoe mystery by Damon L. Wakes Release 2 / Serial number 250902 / Inform 7 v10.1.2 Inform 7 v10.1.2 Identification number: //B9199D3B-51F9-493D-824D-0C7A3CDF46D1// Interpreter version 1.3.7 / VM 3.1.3 Object Response Tests version 7 by Juhana Leinonen Editable Stored Actions version 10 by Ron Newcomb Keyword Interface version 9.0.1 by Aaron Reed >about Who Whacked Jimmy Piņata? A Bubble Gumshoe Mystery Writing Damon L. Wakes Code Review Zed Lopez Playtesting Robert Eggleston Gamefic kirihearts Tabitha WindySilver >* Oh this was the Zed code review! That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >x me You're a street-smart broad with a hard sugar shell but a soft centre. >i You are carrying: a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) a car key hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >x fedora Standard private eye attire. >x coat Keeps the rain off you, and looks really cool to boot. Officer Bagel adjusts his police cap. >x key The key to your trusty 1973 Fudge Challenger. >x trainers There's no gum on them, okay? Stop asking. >x watch You check your watch. It's always nighttime in Sugar City. Officer Bagel glances embarrassedly at the pile of raisins he threw up on the floor. >l Garage A small automotive workshop with a toolbench against one wall and a car lift in the centre of the floor. Above the car lift, dangling from a metal beam by a length of rope, is the corpse of Jimmy Piņata. The floor is littered with wrapped candies: his, it seems fair to assume. The open garage shutters to the west lead out onto the docks. On the toolbench is a tyre iron. You can also see Officer Bagel and a pile of raisins here. >about Who Whacked Jimmy Piņata? A Bubble Gumshoe Mystery Writing Damon L. Wakes Code Review Zed Lopez Playtesting Robert Eggleston Gamefic kirihearts Tabitha WindySilver >l Garage A small automotive workshop with a toolbench against one wall and a car lift in the centre of the floor. Above the car lift, dangling from a metal beam by a length of rope, is the corpse of Jimmy Piņata. The floor is littered with wrapped candies: his, it seems fair to assume. The open garage shutters to the west lead out onto the docks. On the toolbench is a tyre iron. You can also see Officer Bagel and a pile of raisins here. >x toolbench A variety of tools line the wall behind it. On the toolbench is a tyre iron. >x iron There are a number of small dents on the business end. A few scraps of colourful paper have become plastered to it, sticky with fragments of crushed candy. >take it Taken. Officer Bagel picks absent-mindedly at one of the raisins of his face. >x tools Bog standard tools for car maintenance: nothing noteworthy or even particularly valuable. You have much the same set at home for working on your classic Fudge Challenger. >x lift (the car lift) A hydraulic lift that allows vehicles to be raised off the ground for maintenance. It is currently lowered. A worn green button dangles on a cable from the ceiling nearby. The car lift is currently switched off. >x beam As generic a metal beam as you could possibly imagine. It would not possibly warrant inspection, were it not for the fact that there's a recently slain piņata swinging from it on the end of a rope. >x rope An unremarkable length of old rope, made considerably more remarkable by the fact that it has been tied into a noose and used to suspend Jimmy Piņata by the neck from a metal beam. Officer Bagel stares sadly at the corpse of Jimmy Piņata, twisting on the end of its rope. >x pinata Jimmy Piņata has been strung up from the ceiling and... it's hard to say whether what followed was bludgeoning or disembowelment: for a piņata, you suppose one necessarily involves the other, as the state of the floor will testify. His eyes bulge in horror, his mouth frozen in a perpetual braying scream. >* eek That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >x candies Jimmy Piņata's insides, now well and truly outside - scattered all across the floor. Several seem to have fallen into the space under the lift... and a suspicious piece of blue crystal among them. Officer Bagel adjusts his police cap. >x crystal A hard, rock-like piece of material with a striking blue hue. It's under the car lift. >take it There's only a crack between the wheel plates of the lift and the floor of the garage. You can see it, but you can't reach it. >x shutters Plain, unassuming metal shutters, currently rolled up out of the way. Officer Bagel picks absent-mindedly at one of the raisins of his face. >x bagel A rotund officer of the law, dressed in a police cap and jacket. He might not seem it, but he's rather sweet: he is cinnamon-raisin, after all. >x raisins Officer Bagel puked these up upon seeing Jimmy Piņata's dangling corpse. Officer Bagel glances embarrassedly at the pile of raisins he threw up on the floor. >take raisins You really don't want to do that. And anyway, the pile of raisins doesn't appear to be contaminating the crime scene too badly. >* lol That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >talk to bagel You're here to investigate. It would likely be more fruitful to ASK Officer Bagel about something instead. Officer Bagel picks absent-mindedly at one of the raisins of his face. >ask bagel about jimmy "He's not one of our regular perps: only got the name from the tipoff. Until further details come to light, there's not much I can say." >ask bagel about tipoff "The call came from a phone booth at the corner of Demerara and Maple. It was anonymous, but to be honest I'd be more surprised if it hadn't been." >ask bagel about booth "The one at the corner of Demerara and Maple? It's just a regular phone booth. You'll find it to the west of Candy Kane's." Officer Bagel glances embarrassedly at the pile of raisins he threw up on the floor. >ask bagel about kane "Not much to say about her - except she's done pretty well for herself. Her club is about the only thing that's been thriving in Sugar City since the taffy factory closed down." >ask bagel about city "Sugar City. Shotown. The six-twelve-six. That's where we are now." >ask bagel about factory "It's just over there." Officer Bagel points west, out the garage door. "Before it shut down, Sugar City was a great place to be. But when it went, the jobs went with it. Now we get a murder like this almost every night. Some nights more than one." >ask bagel about murder Officer Bagel stares at the corpse briefly. "I don't know what else you'd call it... Unless your professional opinion is that he tripped and fell into the noose after stepping on a rake?" Officer Bagel rocks back and forth on the heels and balls of his feet. >ask bagel about rope There is no reply. >ask bagel about car "It's nothing fancy, but it sure beats wandering Sugar City on foot." Officer Bagel glances embarrassedly at the pile of raisins he threw up on the floor. >ask bagel about crystal "It's serious stuff. There's some new drug lord supplying it. The Sourballz and their sherbet are old news now." >ask bagel about raisins There is no reply. >ask bagel about raisin There is no reply. Officer Bagel stares sadly at the corpse of Jimmy Piņata, twisting on the end of its rope. >ask bagel about lord "He's a real headache for us. The Sourballz and their sherbet were bad enough, but that blue crystal? People will do anything to get it." >ask bagel about sourballz "Officially, we've got no idea who controls the gang. Unofficially, off the record, you'll want to question Don Toblerone." >ask bagel about sherbet "Funky sugar. Fizz. Crackle. Nose-sweetener. Doesn't matter what you call it: it's one of the most addictive drugs in Sugar City. The most addictive before that new drug lord started flooding the streets with blue crystal." Officer Bagel rocks back and forth on the heels and balls of his feet. >ask bagel about rope There is no reply. >ask bagel about iron "It certainly could be the murder weapon - though we'd need to wait for an autopsy to determine the definitive cause of death." Officer Bagel picks absent-mindedly at one of the raisins of his face. >ask bagel about cause There is no reply. >ask bagel about cause of death "Impossible to say without a post-mortem. If he was lucky, he was at least unconscious when they busted him open." >push button The lift whines into action, the wheel plates rising slowly to bump against Jimmy Piņata's dangling feet. >x crystal A hard, rock-like piece of material with a striking blue hue. It's under the car lift. >take it As if from a baby! Officer Bagel rocks back and forth on the heels and balls of his feet. >push button The lift whines into action, receding back down to lie flush with the garage floor. >stand on lift (the car lift) That's not something you can stand on. >* can't get up there? That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >search jimmy Nothing. Everything he had on - or in - him has either been taken by the killer, or scattered across the floor of this garage. >search rope You find nothing of interest. Officer Bagel stares sadly at the corpse of Jimmy Piņata, twisting on the end of its rope. >search beam You find nothing of interest. >i You are carrying: a blue crystal a tyre iron a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) a car key hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >show crystal to bagel There's no point showing evidence to someone you haven't accused of the murder. >l Garage A small automotive workshop with a toolbench against one wall and a car lift in the centre of the floor. Above the car lift, dangling from a metal beam by a length of rope, is the corpse of Jimmy Piņata. The floor is littered with wrapped candies: his, it seems fair to assume. The open garage shutters to the west lead out onto the docks. You can see Officer Bagel and a pile of raisins here. >take candies There are far too many to fit in your pockets. Like, an entire torso's worth. Officer Bagel picks absent-mindedly at one of the raisins of his face. >ask bagel about candies "I'd rather-" Officer Bagel puts a hand to his mouth, his stomach suddenly heaving. "Rather not think about those right now." >w The Docks A rain-sticky expanse of concrete. The old taffy factory lies to the west. Dilapidated piers jut out like rotting teeth just to the south. Crumbling abandoned businesses surround the area, also like rotting teeth: the garage to the east is one of them. Maybe it's just the distant river of cola, but the whole area has an aura of oral decay. You can see a patrol car here. >save Ok. >x businesses "Don Toblerone's Legitimate Import/Export Business." That one's still running, though you know better than to go poking around. The docks once saw fleets of ships coming in full of raw sugar, and leaving full of premium saltwater taffy. But the pollution from Sugar City's industrial district has given the cola here an extra kick: the extra maintenance costs involved in shoring up the ships' dissolving hulls put the factory into the red, and when the Good Ship Lollipop foundered right in the middle of the channel - blocking access to all other vessels - that was the final marshmallow in the s'more. >x river A wide, carbonated body of liquid a little way to the south. >drink water You can't see any such thing. >x car (the patrol car) A standard police vehicle with the classic "jam sandwich" livery, positioned so as to point the headlights at the garage door. The familiar shield of the Sugar City Police Department is printed on the doors, as well as their motto: "To protect and savour." In the patrol car are a shotgun and a police radio. >x shotgun Standard issue, but not a whole lot of use to anybody right this minute. >take it The patrol car isn't open. >open car (the patrol car) It seems to be locked. >x radio Potentially a useful source of updates on the case. You trust Officer Bagel will pass on anything that might be relevant to your investigation. >listen to radio The patrol car isn't open. >e Garage A small automotive workshop with a toolbench against one wall and a car lift in the centre of the floor. Above the car lift, dangling from a metal beam by a length of rope, is the corpse of Jimmy Piņata. The floor is littered with wrapped candies: his, it seems fair to assume. The open garage shutters to the west lead out onto the docks. You can see Officer Bagel and a pile of raisins here. >ask bagel for keys You can't see any such thing. >ask bagel about keys There is no reply. >ask bagel about car "It's nothing fancy, but it sure beats wandering Sugar City on foot." >ask bagel about shotgun "That's strictly for emergencies. I'm just here to guard the crime scene: I don't plan to get the shotgun out of my patrol car if I can possibly avoid it." >ask bagel about patrol car "It's nothing fancy, but it sure beats wandering Sugar City on foot." Officer Bagel glances embarrassedly at the pile of raisins he threw up on the floor. >ask bagel about crime scene Officer Bagel shrugs. "You're looking at it." >w The Docks A rain-sticky expanse of concrete. The old taffy factory lies to the west. Dilapidated piers jut out like rotting teeth just to the south. Crumbling abandoned businesses surround the area, also like rotting teeth: the garage to the east is one of them. Maybe it's just the distant river of cola, but the whole area has an aura of oral decay. You can see a patrol car here. >s The Piers Each pier is a long wooden platform. They stand in various states of disrepair. The cola river laps hungrily at their foundations, fizzing with quiet potency. There is nowhere to go from here but the docks to the north. You can see a fishing boat here. >x pier A run-down wooden platform stretches out across the surface of the river. There's a fishing boat tied to it towards the end. >x river The deep brown surface seems to sparkle in the lamplight. >x boat (the fishing boat) An old, beaten-up vessel tethered to the least dilapidated of the piers. The port window of the cabin is speckled with sugar-spray. The deck is cluttered with fishing gear. >x window Just inside the window is a table with some fishing boat keys on it. The window is open just a crack at the top. >x gear A jumbled mass of nets and fishing line. All this stuff is in a terrible state: even if someone went to the effort of untangling it all, you're not sure it's in any condition to be used. >x table A small, flimsy table by the port window. On the fold-out table are some fishing boat keys. >x keys A couple of keys on a fob with a small piece of cork - you assume in case they get dropped overboard. >i You are carrying: a blue crystal a tyre iron a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) a car key hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >get keys The cabin isn't open. >open window It is open - but only a crack. That seems to be as far as it goes. >get key with iron It doesn't seem that's going to work. >put iron in window You push the tyre iron through the crack in the window, but it's too heavy to manoeuvre easily and too short to reach the table below. >n The Docks A rain-sticky expanse of concrete. The old taffy factory lies to the west. Dilapidated piers jut out like rotting teeth just to the south. Crumbling abandoned businesses surround the area, also like rotting teeth: the garage to the east is one of them. Maybe it's just the distant river of cola, but the whole area has an aura of oral decay. You can see a patrol car here. >w Factory Entrance A patch of industrial wasteland virtually indistinguishable from the Factory Outskirts on the other side of the open chainlink gates just to the north. The mud is marked with countless footprints, most leading directly towards the docks. The taffy factory itself towers above you, industrial pipes and chimneys jutting from the roof like the sprouts of a sweet potato way too old to eat. The factory doors are to the south. They are firmly locked, tattered yellow police tape stretched haphazardly across them for good measure. You can't go west because your way is blocked by a big stack of rusting sugar bins. To the east lie the cola docks - fizzing away quietly in the night - and the handful of businesses just inland of them. >x gates There's a loop of chain to lock the gates together, but that loop of chain is just padlocked to itself through one side. It's not holding anything closed. >x mud It's thick and gloopy, and riddled with gummy worms. >x footprints There are far too many to identify any one person or the path they took. >x factory Which do you mean, the taffy factory or the factory doors? >x taffy factory Sugar City hasn't been the same since the old taffy factory shut down for good. It might be right on the outskirts, but in many ways it was the heart of the community. Its closure left a hole that many are still trying to fill: with sherbet, with crystal candy - with whatever numbs the pain. >x chimney You can't see any such thing. >x chimneys Those chimneys are what tainted the clouds long ago. The rain in Sugar City was once clear and sparkling, cleansing the wicked and the righteous alike. Now the sky is black as liquorice, and what falls from it paints the ground as sticky as the floor of the grottiest cinema you've ever seen. >x doors You can't use multiple objects with that verb. >x tape Still here from when Mayor McFreeze was iced just behind those doors. Jimmy Piņata wasn't the first to meet a sticky end in this industrial estate, and something tells you he won't be the last. >x door Heavy iron doors, painted powder blue. They've taken a beating over the years, from boots and sugar bins slamming into them as the workers passed, and trails of sticky rust run down from the places where the paint's been damaged. There's a large keyhole - suggesting a very sturdy lock - and strips of tattered police tape stretched right across the doors. Behind the tape is a yellow sign. >x keyhole You stoop and peer through the keyhole. Inside you see the vast machine that once ground raw sugar for the taffy. There's a conspicuous blue stain on the concrete beneath its discharge spout: rest in pulp, Mayor McFreeze. >x sign The sign says "KEEP OUT - THIS BUILDING IS SCHEDULED FOR DEMOLITION" It gives a date, but the date is from two years ago. All plans to tear down the factory ground to a halt after the mayor was murdered inside it. >l Factory Entrance A patch of industrial wasteland virtually indistinguishable from the Factory Outskirts on the other side of the open chainlink gates just to the north. The mud is marked with countless footprints, most leading directly towards the docks. The taffy factory itself towers above you, industrial pipes and chimneys jutting from the roof like the sprouts of a sweet potato way too old to eat. The factory doors are to the south. They are firmly locked, tattered yellow police tape stretched haphazardly across them for good measure. You can't go west because your way is blocked by a big stack of rusting sugar bins. To the east lie the cola docks - fizzing away quietly in the night - and the handful of businesses just inland of them. >s (first opening the factory doors) They seem to be locked. >unlock doors You can't use multiple objects with that verb. >undo Factory Entrance [Previous turn undone.] >accuse me Unfortunately you have a rock solid alibi: you were with yourself at the time of the murder. >* lol That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >n Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see a Wine Gum Wino, the Fudge Challenger and a crumpled hat here. >x road Gummy worms slink along cracks in the concrete, basting themselves in the syrup-rain. This road has seen better days. >x door The door doesn't appear to have been forced, though somebody has removed the cylinder from the lock. >x can A metal can of trash, though "burning" might be an overstatement. It's died down to embers now, steaming quietly in the syrupy rain. In the burning trash can is a long skewer. >x lock Which do you mean, the rusty padlock or the cylinder hole? >hole Where the cylinder of the lock should be, there's just an empty hole. Somebody seems to have bashed it out. >x rusty It's a solid padlock, even if it's seen better days. It needs a key to open - which you don't have - but fortunately it's not keeping anything closed. >take it That seems to be a part of the loop of chain. >l Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see a Wine Gum Wino, the Fudge Challenger and a crumpled hat here. >x chain It's a heavy, slightly rusty loop of chain, fixed closed with a padlock (also slightly rusty). >* isn't that back at the factory? That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >x skewer A long skewer with a pointy tip. There's carbonised marshmallow gunk all along the business end. >take it Taken. >x gunk The carbonised marshmallow gunk doesn't merit any further investigation. >* seems handy! That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >l Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see a Wine Gum Wino, the Fudge Challenger and a crumpled hat here. >x wino He's slumped on the ground by the burning trash can, bottle in hand. His body is wrapped in a thick coat not unlike your own, but the rain falls freely on his slack face: his hat lies upturned on the concrete before him. Based on the sticky gunk around his mouth, it appears he was toasting marshmallows not so long ago. >wake wino Absolutely nothing you can do seems to rouse him. >search him He's got nothing on him. Seriously, you feel really sorry for the guy. >x bottle A bottle of cheap, sweet, dessert wine, now empty. >take it The Wine Gum Wino clutches it tightly. His gummy fingers might as well be glued to the glass. >x hat (the crumpled hat) A crumpled Panama hat, ash-stained and rain-damp. It's certainly seen better days. In the crumpled hat is a quarter. >take it You take the hat. The quarter tumbles out onto the ground. >wear it You're already wearing a fedora. That would literally be putting a hat on a hat. >x quarter A 25 cent coin, featuring a bust of George Noshington. >take quarter Are you sure you're willing to steal the only money this unfortunate fellow has? (yes/no) no You resist the urge to pilfer the Wine Gum Wino's meagre wealth. >* oh hadn't realized it was his! That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >give hat to wino Which do you mean, the crumpled hat or the fedora? >crumpled Generous as that would be, you might need the crumpled hat later. >* lol guess we're keeping that though That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >l Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see a quarter, a Wine Gum Wino and the Fudge Challenger here. >x challenger Your 1973 Fudge Challenger. It's a fine car, but the permanent nighttime syrup-rain of Sugar City has really done a number of the hot pink paint job. >unlock it (with the car key) There's nowhere you need to drive right now. >search car (the Fudge Challenger) The Fudge Challenger is empty. >s Factory Entrance A patch of industrial wasteland virtually indistinguishable from the Factory Outskirts on the other side of the open chainlink gates just to the north. The mud is marked with countless footprints, most leading directly towards the docks. The taffy factory itself towers above you, industrial pipes and chimneys jutting from the roof like the sprouts of a sweet potato way too old to eat. The factory doors are to the south. They are firmly locked, tattered yellow police tape stretched haphazardly across them for good measure. You can't go west because your way is blocked by a big stack of rusting sugar bins. To the east lie the cola docks - fizzing away quietly in the night - and the handful of businesses just inland of them. >s (first opening the factory doors) They seem to be locked. >x bins Vast quantities of sugar went into the taffy here back when the factory was still running - that's how Sugar City got its name. Now all that's left is this vast graveyard of the thin steel bins that it came in, stacked messily and slowly rusting away to nothing. >e The Docks A rain-sticky expanse of concrete. The old taffy factory lies to the west. Dilapidated piers jut out like rotting teeth just to the south. Crumbling abandoned businesses surround the area, also like rotting teeth: the garage to the east is one of them. Maybe it's just the distant river of cola, but the whole area has an aura of oral decay. You can see a patrol car here. >s The Piers Each pier is a long wooden platform. They stand in various states of disrepair. The cola river laps hungrily at their foundations, fizzing with quiet potency. There is nowhere to go from here but the docks to the north. You can see a fishing boat here. >put skewer in window You put the long skewer through the narrow crack and try to push it into the keys' cork float, but it merely scoots across the plastic tabletop, threatening to fall off the edge and out of reach. >* oh I thought it was already sticky enough That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >i You are carrying: a long skewer a crumpled hat a blue crystal a tyre iron a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) a car key hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >put crystal on skewer You probably don't wanna go poking holes in the blue crystal. >n The Docks A rain-sticky expanse of concrete. The old taffy factory lies to the west. Dilapidated piers jut out like rotting teeth just to the south. Crumbling abandoned businesses surround the area, also like rotting teeth: the garage to the east is one of them. Maybe it's just the distant river of cola, but the whole area has an aura of oral decay. You can see a patrol car here. >n You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. >w Factory Entrance A patch of industrial wasteland virtually indistinguishable from the Factory Outskirts on the other side of the open chainlink gates just to the north. The mud is marked with countless footprints, most leading directly towards the docks. The taffy factory itself towers above you, industrial pipes and chimneys jutting from the roof like the sprouts of a sweet potato way too old to eat. The factory doors are to the south. They are firmly locked, tattered yellow police tape stretched haphazardly across them for good measure. You can't go west because your way is blocked by a big stack of rusting sugar bins. To the east lie the cola docks - fizzing away quietly in the night - and the handful of businesses just inland of them. >w You can't go that way. >n Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see a quarter, a Wine Gum Wino and the Fudge Challenger here. >w Though there's a road here you could travel in that direction, you have absolutely no reason to do so. >open door That's already open. >enter store Abandoned Store Little more than the shell of a local business. There are shop stairs leading to an upper floor, but the door to them is locked. The back door is open, leading south to the Factory Outskirts. To the north, the glass of the front door has been kicked in: it leads out onto Demerara Street, which would be visible through the big shop window if it hadn't been boarded up. You can hear the music from Candy Kane's club quite distinctly here. >s Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see a quarter, a Wine Gum Wino and the Fudge Challenger here. >n Abandoned Store Little more than the shell of a local business. There are shop stairs leading to an upper floor, but the door to them is locked. The back door is open, leading south to the Factory Outskirts. To the north, the glass of the front door has been kicked in: it leads out onto Demerara Street, which would be visible through the big shop window if it hadn't been boarded up. You can hear the music from Candy Kane's club quite distinctly here. >x stairs An inconspicuous locked door stands near the back of the shop floor. Though locked, it clearly leads to the upper floor. >x back door The door doesn't appear to have been forced, though somebody has removed the cylinder from the lock. >x lock Where the cylinder of the lock should be, there's just an empty hole. Somebody seems to have bashed it out. >x window A large glass window, haphazardly covered with wooden boards. >listen The pounding music from Candy Kane's club rattles the front window of the shop. >open door Which do you mean, the back door, the shop stairs or the broken door? >stairs It seems to be locked. >break it Violence isn't usually your style. >unlock it (with the car key) That doesn't seem to fit the lock. >n Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >x patrons They're loud and drunk. You don't envy Big Hunk and Kit Kat having to deal with them all night every night. >x hunk A towering mound of nougat, studded with peanuts, crammed into a too-small suit. >ask hunk about jimmy "Yeah...he..." Big Hunk pauses. "He was in here pretty regularly - really living it up. Top-shelf booze, bottle service, the works. He never caused any trouble, but I think he might have had some. He seemed...worried...from time to time. More and more often. I overheard bits and pieces: seems like he'd borrowed money from someone." >ask hunk about borrowed "There's rumours of some kind of loan shark really working people over lately. I think Jimmy Piņata was one of them. I feel as though Father Wafer might be too." Big Hunk glowers an unruly patron into submission. >ask hunk about wafer "He's the priest over at the Church of the Immaculate Confection. It's just west of here." >ask hunk about crystal "I've heard about that. I don't see how it's any different to sherbet. I'll be keeping it out of Candy Kane's just the same, anyway." >ask hunk about sherbet "People get all worked up about that new blue crystal, but the truth is sherbet's just as bad. Doesn't matter what it is: if someone will turn to mugging to get a hit of it, I don't want it in Sugar City." >ask hunk about kane "She's a great woman. Gave me a second chance, once I was out of the tequila slammer." Big Hunk quietly surveys the scene. >ask hunk about slammer "I've spent some time in there. I'll admit it. So had Jimmy Piņata, but we were on different wings. Jawbreaker and I shared a cell block for a while, though. That's when we started playing poker together." >ask hunk about jawbreaker "He's a bit dim, but I think that's how he got roped in by Don Toblerone and the Sourballz. Feels like they're taking advantage of him - and it's not going to help if everyone else just pushes him away." >ask hunk about poker "Not exactly keen for you to join us. Sorry." Realising that this is a little blunt, Big Hunk adds: "I know you must be good at reading people. Jawbreaker has enough trouble hanging onto his chips as it is. Poker face like a pane of sugar glass, that guy." >ask hunk about don "I stay away from Don Toblerone. If you have any sense, you will too. You can't touch the guy. Jawbreaker is alright, though." Big Hunk slaps his massive appendages together aggressively. >ask hunk about sourballz "They're Don Toblerone's thugs. Not everyone will admit that, but everybody knows. Pretty much all the sherbet on the streets of Sugar City comes through them." >l Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >x door A perfectly ordinary shop door - minus the glass, which somebody has smashed in at some point. Big Hunk quietly surveys the scene. >x box A battered newspaper vending box. Papers cost 25 cents. It's late in the day, and there's just one left. In the newspaper vending box is a tabloid. >x tabloid A cheap rag, but still potentially a source of useful information. You've often turned up some crucial clue or other in these things. >read it A cheap rag, but still potentially a source of useful information. You've often turned up some crucial clue or other in these things. >take it The newspaper vending box isn't open. >l Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. Big Hunk raises a fingerless slab of nougat to his head and struggles to adjust his earpiece. >ne Alley A dim, dank, narrow pathway between the adult bookstore and Candy Kane's Club. Some dumpsters stand against a wall. There is a distinctive sticky stain on the concrete here. The alley is a dead end to the north, opening onto the street to the south: to the southwest is Demerara Street, and to the southeast is Demerara and Caster. Emergency exits from the club and bookstore open onto the alley from the west and east respectively. >x stain This is where Gum E. Bear was shot. Sugar City's sanitation crew has never quite managed to remove the last traces of his sweet liquid centre. >x dumpsters Small flies swarm above them, occasionally alighting on their syrup-sticky lids. >open dumpsters You open the dumpsters, revealing some trash bags and a rucksack. >x bags Gross, sticky plastic bags full of refuse. >x rucksack A sun-faded denim rucksack. It's well worn, and plastered haphazardly with patches of various designs. >take it Taken. >open it You open the rucksack, revealing a glass pipe and a butane lighter. >x pipe A small glass pipe. Raised letters along the side read "FOR TOBACCO USE ONLY." A burnt mass of crystal candy is welded to the bottom of the spherical bowl. >x lighter There's a brand name printed on the side in bright, upbeat lettering: "Fuego Fácil." The butane lighter is currently switched off. >light lighter You thumb the striker wheel of the lighter, producing a small yellow flame. Satisfied that the lighter works, you lift your thumb and let the flame go out. >light pipe (first taking the glass pipe) It's tempting, but no. >put skewer in pipe It's probably not wise to try and smoke the long skewer. >l Alley A dim, dank, narrow pathway between the adult bookstore and Candy Kane's Club. Some dumpsters stand against a wall. There is a distinctive sticky stain on the concrete here. The alley is a dead end to the north, opening onto the street to the south: to the southwest is Demerara Street, and to the southeast is Demerara and Caster. Emergency exits from the club and bookstore open onto the alley from the west and east respectively. >w (first opening the nightclub emergency exit) There's no handle on the outside. >e (first opening the bookstore emergency exit) There's no handle on the outside. >sw Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >e Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >x freeway A long, long, road stretching away into the distance. >s There's no easy way into any of the abandoned shops, and no reason to try and break in. >e Venturing onto the freeway on foot would be incredibly dangerous. >nw Alley A dim, dank, narrow pathway between the adult bookstore and Candy Kane's Club. Some dumpsters stand against a wall. There is a distinctive sticky stain on the concrete here. The alley is a dead end to the north, opening onto the street to the south: to the southwest is Demerara Street, and to the southeast is Demerara and Caster. Emergency exits from the club and bookstore open onto the alley from the west and east respectively. >se Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >nw Alley A dim, dank, narrow pathway between the adult bookstore and Candy Kane's Club. Some dumpsters stand against a wall. There is a distinctive sticky stain on the concrete here. The alley is a dead end to the north, opening onto the street to the south: to the southwest is Demerara Street, and to the southeast is Demerara and Caster. Emergency exits from the club and bookstore open onto the alley from the west and east respectively. >s Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. Big Hunk slaps his massive appendages together aggressively. >n Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. Horehound, a frequent - if troublesome - patron sits in the shadow of a large pillar, periodically reaching into his jacket pocket and then snorting something from his long pinkie nail. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Kit Kat is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. >sw You can't go that way. Kit Kat fidgets uncomfortably. >undo Candy Kane's Club [Previous turn undone.] >undo Demerara Street [Previous turn undone.] >ne Alley A dim, dank, narrow pathway between the adult bookstore and Candy Kane's Club. Some dumpsters stand against a wall. There is a distinctive sticky stain on the concrete here. The alley is a dead end to the north, opening onto the street to the south: to the southwest is Demerara Street, and to the southeast is Demerara and Caster. Emergency exits from the club and bookstore open onto the alley from the west and east respectively. >sw Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. Big Hunk glowers an unruly patron into submission. >ne Alley A dim, dank, narrow pathway between the adult bookstore and Candy Kane's Club. Some dumpsters stand against a wall. There is a distinctive sticky stain on the concrete here. The alley is a dead end to the north, opening onto the street to the south: to the southwest is Demerara Street, and to the southeast is Demerara and Caster. Emergency exits from the club and bookstore open onto the alley from the west and east respectively. >s Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >* weird That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >w Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a phone booth here. >x church A surprisingly lavish place of worship, nestled on a corner next to a row of abandoned storefronts just down the road from Candy Kane's Club. >x church A surprisingly lavish place of worship, nestled on a corner next to a row of abandoned storefronts just down the road from Candy Kane's Club. >x booth A typical phone booth in a typical poor state of repair. In the phone booth is a payphone. >enter booth You open the phone booth. You get into the phone booth. In the phone booth you can see a payphone. >x payphone A chunky yellow handset resting on a chunky metal keypad. >search booth In the phone booth is a payphone. >x keypad A rugged metal keypad, designed to withstand overenthusiastic button-presses from heavy-handed callers, as well as abuse from vandals. Despite the wipe-clean surface, all the buttons are sticky. The nine and one keys in particular are thick with gunk - it looks like nougat. >x nougat You can't see any such thing. >take it That seems to be a part of the payphone. >out You get out of the phone booth. Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a phone booth here. >* s That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >s Church of the Immaculate Confection A small church lined with pews. A few faithful sit upon them, heads bowed in prayer. A homeless halva sits near the back, head bowed in sleep. At the far end of the church stands the great altar, and beyond that a portrait of Pope Pontefract on the back wall. A small spiral staircase leads up to the Church Tower. The church opens onto the street to the north. You can see Father Wafer and a confessional (closed) here. Father Wafer rubs at a discoloured patch on the surface of the altar. >x pews Hard wooden seating for the faithful. Like, really hard. You suspect the discomfort is the point. >x faithful A handful of people in the Church of the Immaculate Confection. Since there's no service on, most are just here for a quiet prayer. A few look as though they might have just stopped in to get out of the rain. You don't get the impression that Father Wafer objects. >x halva He sleeps soundly, his head resting on his hand, and his elbow resting on the back of the pew before him. >search halva "What are you doing?" hisses Father Wafer, stunned to see you rummaging through the homeless halva's pockets. "Stop that!" >undo Church of the Immaculate Confection [Previous turn undone.] >* oops That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >l Church of the Immaculate Confection A small church lined with pews. A few faithful sit upon them, heads bowed in prayer. A homeless halva sits near the back, head bowed in sleep. At the far end of the church stands the great altar, and beyond that a portrait of Pope Pontefract on the back wall. A small spiral staircase leads up to the Church Tower. The church opens onto the street to the north. You can see Father Wafer and a confessional (closed) here. >x altar A solid slab of stone serving as the centre of this church's ceremonies. Father Wafer straightens the portrait of Pope Pontefract ever so slightly. >x portrait A portrait in a gilded scrollwork frame. It shows a distinguished religious leader wearing a richly embroidered mitre. >x pontefract A portrait in a gilded scrollwork frame. It shows a distinguished religious leader wearing a richly embroidered mitre. >x staircase A simple coiling stone staircase, linking the church below and the tower above. Father Wafer adjusts his cassock. >x confessional An elaborate wooden booth in a quiet corner at the back of the church. It has two compartments: one for the penitent, and one for the priest. The two doors open outwards, their sturdy pull handles set close together in the centre of the cabinet. >x wafer A crispy pink wafer dressed in a collared shirt and cassock. >ask wafer about wafer "The church is so demanding that I have little time for anything else. But then, it is my calling. I do all I can for the people of Sugar City." >ask wafer about sugar There is no reply. >ask wafer about sugar city "A dark place indeed. But it's the darkest places that most need the light." Father Wafer rubs at a discoloured patch on the surface of the altar. >ask wafer about church "I do what I can to serve the spiritual needs of the people of Sugar City. I find the work rewarding - but there are so many people, with so many problems." >ask wafer about phone booth "I can't help you there." >ask wafer about crystal "I don't know anything about that." >ask wafer about jimmy "I don't believe I ever met the victim, I'm afraid." Father Wafer straightens the portrait of Pope Pontefract ever so slightly. >ask wafer about loan shark A look of panic suddenly overtakes Father Wafer. "What... What have you heard?" >ask wafer about drug lord "I can't help you there." >tell wafer about loan shark You're here to investigate. It would likely be more fruitful to ASK Father Wafer about that instead. >u Father Wafer steps between you and the entrance to the spiral staircase. "Apologies, my child. The tower isn't open to the public." Father Wafer rubs at a discoloured patch on the surface of the altar. >ask wafer about tower "The stairs are a bit of a hazard, and there's not much of a view. There's really no reason for you to venture up there." >i You are carrying: a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a long skewer a crumpled hat a blue crystal a tyre iron a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) a car key hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >n Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a phone booth here. >e Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >n Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. Horehound, a frequent - if troublesome - patron sits in the shadow of a large pillar, periodically reaching into his jacket pocket and then snorting something from his long pinkie nail. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Kit Kat is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. Kit Kat fidgets uncomfortably. >x babes Their gelatinous jiggling is quite hypnotic. >x kane A stick-thin woman with a hard expression. Her black cocktail dress really makes her red and white stripes pop. She runs this place, and that gives her a surprising amount of sway outside it too. Candy Kane struggles to skewer a cocktail onion with her sugar-stick arms. >x custoemrs You can't see any such thing. >oops customers The customers at the tables don't exactly seem to be having a good time. A few seem to be struggling even to sit upright. Kit Kat taps her foot impatiently. >x dancers They're really into it. Like, really into it. >x horehound A hard-faced chap staring intently at the dancers on stage. There's a pretty-hard-not-to-notice crust of white powder around his left nostril. >x powder You can't say for sure that it's sherbet, but you very much doubt that it's some new form of snortable powdered decongestant. >ask horehound about himself "Hit the bricks, toots!" says Horehound. "I'm watching the show." Candy Kane attempts to shake up a martini with her rigid candy arms, but ends up dropping the whole thing on the floor. Kit Kat lets out a frustrated sigh. >ask horehound about powder "Hit the bricks, toots!" says Horehound. "I'm watching the show." >ask horehound about show "Hit the bricks, toots!" says Horehound. "I'm watching the show." >l Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. Horehound, a frequent - if troublesome - patron sits in the shadow of a large pillar, periodically reaching into his jacket pocket and then snorting something from his long pinkie nail. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Kit Kat is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. Candy Kane struggles to skewer a cocktail onion with her sugar-stick arms. >x kat A jittery security guard, apparently disinterested in everything going on nearby. >ask kat about kane "If nothing's on fire you've got no reason to talk to me," says Kit Kat. "I'd be taking a smoke break right now if I had anything to smoke." Candy Kane stiffly bops her head along to the music. Kit Kat fidgets uncomfortably. >ask kane about kane "I've been running this place for longer than a lady likes to acknowledge. I'm proud of what I've built, though: a lot of businesses in Sugar City went under when we lost the taffy factory - but not mine." >ask kane about factory "It's a shame they never managed to tear it down. I've talked to Mayor Angue about reattempting the demolition, but Don Toblerone seems to have more sway over City Hall than I do these days." Candy Kane clumsily muddles mint and lime at the bottom of a mojito glass. >ask kane about city "Sure it's a little rough around the edges, but I can't imagine setting up shop anywhere else." >ask kane about angue "He's in the VIP lounge, naturally. Can't expect the Mayor of all people to rub shoulders with the riff-raff of Sugar City." Candy Kane struggles to skewer a cocktail onion with her sugar-stick arms. >ask kane about done There is no reply. Kit Kat taps her foot impatiently. >ask kane about don "The Don and I get along alright. He doesn't ask me for protection money, and I let him think he's worthy of the VIP lounge." Candy Kane attempts to shake up a martini with her rigid candy arms, but ends up dropping the whole thing on the floor. >ask kane about kat "I took her on after that incident with the gummy bear in the alley outside - the patrons wanted a little more security. Turns out the extra set of eyes has really helped keep down trouble, though she's not the most proactive employee." >ask kane about protection money "Accidents happen, supposedly. And those who don't give Don Toblerone the money that he asks for seem particularly accident-prone." Kit Kat shoots a smile at one of the club regulars. >ask kane about protection money "Accidents happen, supposedly. And those who don't give Don Toblerone the money that he asks for seem particularly accident-prone." Candy Kane clumsily muddles mint and lime at the bottom of a mojito glass. >ask kane about protection lounge There is no reply. >ask kane about lounge "Sorry, darling - I can't let just anybody in there or it would defeat the purpose." Candy Kane raises an eyebrow. "And I especially can't let just anybody in there if they're going to start pestering the VIPs. I know you have a job to do, but so do I." >ask kane about loan shark "I don't know anything about that." Candy Kane attempts to shake up a martini with her rigid candy arms, but ends up dropping the whole thing on the floor. >ask kane about wafer "He's been in here precisely once the entire time we've been in business. Apparently he needed some communion wine in a hurry." Kit Kat taps her foot impatiently. >ask kane about jimmy "He was in here a lot - on and off. Certainly a party animal. I was under the impression he was very well liked - though I suppose it's possible he got on the wrong side of the wrong person. Big Hunk might know more than I do. I think they go a way back." >ask kane aboutm murder I didn't understand that sentence. >ask kane about murder "First that gummy bear was shot in the alley, then Mayor McFreeze was shoved headfirst into a sugar grinder in the old taffy factory, and now Jimmy Piņata... It just goes to show how dangerous Sugar City has become." Candy Kane clumsily muddles mint and lime at the bottom of a mojito glass. >ask kane about bear "I was sorry to hear what happened to him. But at least you could provide some justice." >ask kane about mcfreeze "Shocking, what happened to him. And ever since, it's just made all the effort to demolish that nasty old taffy factory grind to a halt." Kit Kat shoots a smile at one of the club regulars. >l Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. Horehound, a frequent - if troublesome - patron sits in the shadow of a large pillar, periodically reaching into his jacket pocket and then snorting something from his long pinkie nail. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Kit Kat is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. >w (first opening the VIP door) Kit Kat steps in front of you. "Sorry. VIPs only." >n washroom The ladies' here is surprisingly clean and well maintained, though one of the sinks doesn't quite match the style of the others. Other than that, there's not much of note: just a row of stalls and a couple of hand dryers. >x stalls Unremarkable bathroom stalls. >search stalls You can't see inside, since the stalls are closed. >open stalls "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" yells the red liquorice woman inside the stall, smoking blue crystal from a glass pipe. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" you yell as well. You close the stall. >knock on stall That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >x dryer These things never get your hands completely dry. The hand dryers are currently switched off. >turn on dryer You hit the button on a hand dryer, prompting it to emit a tepid waft of air. Waving a hand under the thing, it feels as though an asthmatic slush puppy is wheezing directly onto your palm. The dryer shuts itself off after just a moment. >warm skewer That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >x sink The odd sink is in fine shape: actually slightly better than the others. You happen to know that this one was smashed by Gum E. Bear shortly before he was murdered: Candy Kane replaced it a few days later. >s Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. Horehound, a frequent - if troublesome - patron sits in the shadow of a large pillar, periodically reaching into his jacket pocket and then snorting something from his long pinkie nail. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Kit Kat is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. >e (first opening the nightclub emergency exit) You push your way out into the alley. The emergency exit shuts behind you with a loud click. Alley A dim, dank, narrow pathway between the adult bookstore and Candy Kane's Club. Some dumpsters stand against a wall. There is a distinctive sticky stain on the concrete here. The alley is a dead end to the north, opening onto the street to the south: to the southwest is Demerara Street, and to the southeast is Demerara and Caster. Emergency exits from the club and bookstore open onto the alley from the west and east respectively. >s Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. Big Hunk raises a fingerless slab of nougat to his head and struggles to adjust his earpiece. >e Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >n Adult Bookstore Wow. It's, uh, porny in here. There are shelves and shelves of the stuff. You'd say they've got quite a range of books, but they really have just one type of books. The bookstore entrance is to the south, and there's an nightclub emergency exit to the west that leads straight out into the alley. There's also a door to the north leading to a back room. You can see Jawbreaker here. Jawbreaker projects a gob of syrup into a nearby spittoon. >x shelves They're shelves. What more is there to say? >x books This one just says "Swirls! Swirls! Swirls!" >g That's a novel use for liquorice whips. >g You're pretty sure that's not a good place to put a popsicle. Jawbreaker makes a sort of shoulder motion that suggests a fist punching a palm. It would be far more intimidating if he had fists or palms. Or any arms at all, for that matter. >x exit A simple pushbar door for use in an emergency. It's a little worse for wear. >x jawbreaker You can't imagine a guy gets a name like "Jawbreaker" by becoming champion of the debate team. He's hard as nails, and buff to the point of being almost completely spherical. He's wearing a crisp sugar shell suit. >ask jawbreaker about himself "I'm here to crack heads and dip Big League Chew and I'm...actually, I'm all set for Big League Chew." >ask jawbreaker about poker "Poker is a tough game. I can never seem to win - even when my cards are so good I get up and shout hooray." >ask jawbreaker about done There is no reply. Jawbreaker attempts to scratch his cheek against his massive shoulder. >ask jawbreaker about don "Yeah, Don Toblerone. He's the boss. He headed over to Candy Kane's a little while ago." >ask jawbreaker about kane's There is no reply. >ask jawbreaker about kane "I like her. You can sort of hear the music from her club even in here. Gives me something to listen to while I'm guarding the back room." Jawbreaker makes a sort of shoulder motion that suggests a fist punching a palm. It would be far more intimidating if he had fists or palms. Or any arms at all, for that matter. >ask jawbreaker about jimmy "He the one that died? I don't know him. Sorry." >ask jawbreaker about drug lord "Yeah, you should arrest that guy. He's doing bad stuff. Selling blue crystal. It used to be all sherbet." >ask jawbreaker about drug crystal There is no reply. >ask jawbreaker about crystal "Yeah, that stuff's bad news. Who knows what's in it? Best crack down on that. Then it's just sherbet. Same as always." >ask jawbreaker about loan There is no reply. Jawbreaker wobbles about in a vaguely threatening fashion. >ask jawbreaker about loan shark "I can't help you there." >ask jawbreaker about wafer "The church guy? Don Toblerone takes me with him on Sundays. I don't know much about that, though: I usually just take a snooze on the pews." >n Jawbreaker positions himself in the doorway, blocking your path. "Say the password and I'll let you in," he growls. Jawbreaker makes a sort of shoulder motion that suggests a fist punching a palm. It would be far more intimidating if he had fists or palms. Or any arms at all, for that matter. >ask him about password "I can't just tell you what the password is. You gotta tell me. That's how this works." >tell him password I didn't understand that sentence. >tell jawbreaker password I didn't understand that sentence. >say password "Haha!" Jawbreaker grins. "Good guess, but that would be too easy." Jawbreaker projects a gob of syrup into a nearby spittoon. >s Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >w Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >ask hunk about password "You trying to get past Jawbreaker?" Big Hunk rolls his eyes. "He gets mad at me for telling people the password, so I'll just say this: back in the day it was just 'password'. Later on he switched it to 'password1'. I'll leave it to you to guess what it is now." Big Hunk glowers an unruly patron into submission. >e Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >n Adult Bookstore Wow. It's, uh, porny in here. There are shelves and shelves of the stuff. You'd say they've got quite a range of books, but they really have just one type of books. The bookstore entrance is to the south, and there's an nightclub emergency exit to the west that leads straight out into the alley. There's also a door to the north leading to a back room. You can see Jawbreaker here. >* lol That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >say password1 "Nope." Jawbreaker shakes his head, which is to say he turns his entire rotund body back and forth. "We changed it for security." >say password2 "Alright. That's all I needed to hear." Jawbreaker shuffles aside to let you pass through into the back room. Back Room This place is, surprisingly, much less gross than the area of the adult bookstore that's open to the public just to the south. It's basically just a small, sparsely furnished office. On the desk are an ashtray, a whisky tumbler (in which are some elastic bands) and a pack of candy cigarettes. You can also see a swivel chair (in which is Jelle Bean) and a stack of magazines here. >x desk A sturdy oak desk. It's Don Toblerone's. On the desk are an ashtray, a whisky tumbler (in which are some elastic bands) and a pack of candy cigarettes. >x ashtray A chunky glass ashtray, engrimed with a thin layer of powdered sugar. >x bands They're an aggressively pink colour. Each one has "NUGGS" printed over and over in bold bubble letters all around its circumference. >take band You can't see any such thing. >take bands You don't need to bundle up a bunch of porn mags right now. >l Back Room This place is, surprisingly, much less gross than the area of the adult bookstore that's open to the public just to the south. It's basically just a small, sparsely furnished office. On the desk are an ashtray, a whisky tumbler (in which are some elastic bands) and a pack of candy cigarettes. You can also see a swivel chair (in which is Jelle Bean) and a stack of magazines here. >x tumbler An intricately cut crystal whisky tumbler. It contains no whisky at present, however - it contains a number of lurid pink elastic bands. In the whisky tumbler are some elastic bands. >take tumbler It's a rather fragile thing to carry around without good reason. >x cigarettes Wow. If you were a kid these candy cigarettes would really make you want to take up smoking. >take them You don't need to bundle up a bunch of porn mags right now. >take it Taken. >i You are carrying: a pack of candy cigarettes a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a long skewer a crumpled hat a blue crystal a tyre iron a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) a car key hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >l Back Room This place is, surprisingly, much less gross than the area of the adult bookstore that's open to the public just to the south. It's basically just a small, sparsely furnished office. On the desk are an ashtray and a whisky tumbler (in which are some elastic bands). You can also see a swivel chair (in which is Jelle Bean) and a stack of magazines here. >x chair A perfectly ordinary swivel chair, albeit in a rather old-fashioned wooden style. In the swivel chair is Jelle Bean. >x magazines A large stack of a publication titled "NUGGS." The stack is actually made up of several thick bundles - perhaps ten or twelve magazines each - bound with a lurid pink rubber band. NUGGS appears to be aimed at a heterosexual male readership, judging by the ginormous bazoombas of the creamy milk chocolate model on the cover. >take magazines And be seen walking all around town with it? No way! >x bean A rotund little man in a brown tweed suit. He is focused intently on the adding machine on the desk before him, which he operates with practiced ease. >ask bean about himself "I offer solid accountancy services at competitive rates. Do let me know if you're interested: if you're self-employed and paid on a per-case basis then you may have losses that could be carried back to a previous tax year." >ask bean about don "You'll find him in the VIP lounge at Candy Kane's." >ask bean about lounge "I couldn't tell you how to get in, I'm afraid. I hear it's quite exclusive, and honestly I don't really have any interest in visiting Candy Kane's in the first place." >ask bean about kane's There is no reply. >ask bean about kane "I've never met her. You might ask Don Toblerone. He sometimes patronises her establishment, though I don't get the impression that they're close." >ask bean about kat "I don't know anything about that." >ask bean about taxes There is no reply. >ask bean about mayor "I don't really get involved in politics. Don Toblerone might give you more to go on." >ask bean about jimmy "I'm afraid I can't help you there. I don't know anything about him." >ask bean about poker "I can't help you there." >ask bean about hun There is no reply. >ask bean about hunk "The bouncer? Don't know him. I'm not exactly big on the club scene." >ask bean about wafer "I don't know anything about that." >ask bean about church "I can't help you there." >ask bean about crystal "I only really know what I've picked up from the papers. Apparently there's a new drug lord in town. But as long as the blue crystal doesn't affect the public's appetite for erotic literature, it doesn't really factor into my job." >ask bean about lord "Naturally I've heard about him. A new drug lord is bound to make the news. I try my best not to get mixed up in anything like that, though: Sugar City is a dangerous place at the best of times." >ask bean about erotic There is no reply. >ask bean about erotic literature "It might seem seedy, but there's clearly a good market for it, and that means good money. NUGGS has proven to be a particularly sound investment." >ask bean about erotic money There is no reply. >* lol typo That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >ask bean about money "Don Toblerone has managed well enough despite Sugar City's decline, but now I'm taking care of the books - and can recommend ways to minimise costs and increase revenue - the business is really starting to thrive." >ask bean about nuggs "Did you know that NUGGS is put together by an all-gay staff? On the one hand I imagine they aren't terribly invested in the content themselves, but on the other it's reassuring to know that they're mostly focused on the business. Not that their other publications seem to be doing poorly... In any case, the subscription model is far more lucrative than the standalone books that formed the backbone of our inventory before." >ask bean about loan shark "I don't know anything about that." >s Adult Bookstore Wow. It's, uh, porny in here. There are shelves and shelves of the stuff. You'd say they've got quite a range of books, but they really have just one type of books. The bookstore entrance is to the south, and there's an nightclub emergency exit to the west that leads straight out into the alley. There's also a door to the north leading to a back room. You can see Jawbreaker here. >ni That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >s Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >w Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. Big Hunk slaps his massive appendages together aggressively. >w Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a phone booth here. >e Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Big Hunk the bouncer guards the door, looking ill at ease. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. Big Hunk quietly surveys the scene. >n Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. Horehound, a frequent - if troublesome - patron sits in the shadow of a large pillar, periodically reaching into his jacket pocket and then snorting something from his long pinkie nail. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Kit Kat is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. Kit Kat taps her foot impatiently. >ask kat about lounge "Not my problem," says Kit Kat. "I'm here to break up fights and smoke cigarettes, and I'm all out of fights and cigarettes." >give pack to kat "Seriously? For me?" Kit Kat accepts the pack of cigarettes with a reverence usually reserved for priceless objets d'art. "You have no idea how badly I need this! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou..." She scurries off towards the entrance to the club. A moment later Big Hunk comes in to cover for her. He clocks Horehound snorting sherbet from his pocket, immediately marches over to his table, and begins dragging him out towards the alley by his shirt collar. You take the opportunity to duck inside the VIP room - both to proceed with your investigation, and to put a little more distance between yourself and the unpleasantness that's surely about to unfold. VIP Room A swanky private space for the upper-crust visitors to Candy Kane's Club. There's a swanky glass table in the centre, with an ornate bowl of taffy sitting on it. The rest of the club lies through the door to the east. You can see Don Toblerone and Mayor Angue here. Don Toblerone grumbles something about keeping friends close and enemies closer. >x table Very posh. Very fragile. It's the sort of table that a goon might get thrown into during a fist-fight. Fortunately, you try to avoid getting into that sort of scuffle where possible. On the glass table is an ornate bowl (in which is a big pile of taffy). Mayor Angue brushes a fragment of sugar from his clothes. >take it That's fixed in place. >x bowl A beautiful and expensive decorative bowl, full of luxurious taffy. In the ornate bowl is a big pile of taffy. >take bowl There's no way you can eat all the taffy in that thing. Why not leave some for everybody else? Don Toblerone mutters something about this, the day of his daughter's wedding. >x taffy A whopping great pile of delicious taffy. It appears to be complimentary... >take taffy You take a piece of taffy. Mayor Angue pops a piece of taffy into his mouth and savours it. >put taffy on skewer (the piece of taffy on the long skewer) You put the piece of taffy on the long skewer. Don Toblerone puts a chocolate orange wedge in his mouth and makes mock-threatening noises for comedic effect. >* boom That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >x don Tall, dark, and delicious. He's wearing an exquisitely tailored white suit and several striking gold chains. A chocolate cigar pokes out from the corner of his mouth. >x mayor The successor to Mayor McFreeze. Brought in initially as acting mayor, he won the requisite special election by a small margin. He makes the usual noises about being tough on crime, and accepts the usual campaign donations from Don Toblerone. >ask don about don The Don smiles. "Now, why would I go telling you about myself when anyone in Sugar City could do it for me?" Don Toblerone mumbles something about having learned more from the sweets than from any classroom. >ask don about city "A fine place, ripe with opportunities for those with the ingenuity necessary to make a little money." Mayor Angue places a hand on the bowl of taffy, considers the massive pile within, then thinks better of having another piece just now. >ask don about money "Sales of erotic literature are booming. Naturally I have other investments - one needs a diverse portfolio, after all - but that shop across the way is rapidly becoming my bread and butter. My new accountant has been quite a help there." Don Toblerone puts a chocolate orange wedge in his mouth and makes mock-threatening noises for comedic effect. >ask don about erotic literature "Some might be put off by the tawdry subject matter, but any good businessman must supply what's in demand: my wares rake in good money. NUGGS has proven a particularly wise investment lately." >ask don about erotic accountant There is no reply. >ask don about accountant "Ah! My new accountant. He's very good. Saved me a great deal of money by identifying business expenses that I had not previously been claiming. And he was very supportive of my decision to begin stocking NUGGS, which has proven quite lucrative." Mayor Angue brushes a fragment of sugar from his clothes. >ask don about nuggs "It's hard to say what makes NUGGS more suggessful than the other erotic literature on sale in my establishment. Perhaps its the clearly defined subject matter. Perhaps it's the subscription model." Don Toblerone thinks momentarily. "It might, of course, be the fact that this one has actual photos of boobs." Don Toblerone grumbles something about keeping friends close and enemies closer. >ask him about crystal "Dreadful stuff, I'm sure. You know, I give generously to anti-drugs charities operating in Sugar City." Don Toblerone smirks. "And of course, from time to time I've lent my financial support to the SCPD directly." >ask him about drugs "As I understand it, it's a never-ending battle to keep them under control." He smirks. "I do what little I can to help, but the SCPD just can't seem to find whoever's supplying all that sherbet." Don Toblerone puts a chocolate orange wedge in his mouth and makes mock-threatening noises for comedic effect. Mayor Angue places a hand on the bowl of taffy, considers the massive pile within, then thinks better of having another piece just now. >ask him about scpd "I support the SCPD 100%." Don Toblerone smiles. "Sometimes financially, even." >ask him about sherbet "A real blight on Sugar City. Just like all drugs." Don Toblerone gives you an insincere smile. "If only someone could figure out where it was all coming from." >ask him about church "Religion is very important to me. We all have our sins, and our own ways of atoning for them. You should ask Father Wafer if you'd like to know more." Mayor Angue nods his head to the music. >ask him about wafer "Our local priest. You'll find him at the Church of the Immaculate Confection, just down the street to the west of here. He's very personable, though I'll admit his sermons can be a little dry." >ask him about sermons "Religion is very important to me. We all have our sins, and our own ways of atoning for them. You should ask Father Wafer if you'd like to know more." Don Toblerone mumbles something about having learned more from the sweets than from any classroom. Mayor Angue pops a piece of taffy into his mouth and savours it. >ask him about loan shark "I can't help you there." >ask him about loan There is no reply. Don Toblerone grumbles something about keeping friends close and enemies closer. >ask him about jimmy "I simply do not know who you are talking about." >ask him about bear "A terrible business, that. I was quite dismayed to learn a murder had been committed right outside my own premises. I'm just so glad that you're here to investigate whatever dark crimes come to tarnish our fine City." >ask him about murder "I know nothing about it whatsoever, save that I myself have an air-tight alibi." Mayor Angue nods his head to the music. >ask him about alibi "Why, I've been right here with Mayor Angue - the mayor of Sugar City - almost all night. And I'm quite certain that Big Hunk, Candy Kane, and that charming new girl just outside the door all recognised me on my way in. So you see, persuading a court that I had anything to do with whatever unpleasantness you're investigating would be very difficult indeed." Don Toblerone mumbles something about having learned more from the sweets than from any classroom. >ask him about new girl "I don't really know her, but she presents herself well. And I trust Candy Kane's judgement when it comes to her staff." Mayor Angue pops a piece of taffy into his mouth and savours it. >x mayor The successor to Mayor McFreeze. Brought in initially as acting mayor, he won the requisite special election by a small margin. He makes the usual noises about being tough on crime, and accepts the usual campaign donations from Don Toblerone. >ask mayor about mayor The mayor gives you a dismissive wave. "If have any questions then please raise them at my office during business hours." Don Toblerone mutters something about this, the day of his daughter's wedding. >ask mayor about don The mayor gives you a dismissive wave. "If have any questions then please raise them at my office during business hours." Mayor Angue brushes a fragment of sugar from his clothes. >ask mayor about himself The mayor gives you a dismissive wave. "If have any questions then please raise them at my office during business hours." Don Toblerone grumbles something about keeping friends close and enemies closer. >ask mayor about church The mayor gives you a dismissive wave. "If have any questions then please raise them at my office during business hours." >ask mayor about crystal The mayor gives you a dismissive wave. "If have any questions then please raise them at my office during business hours." Mayor Angue pops a piece of taffy into his mouth and savours it. >ask mayor about loan The mayor gives you a dismissive wave. "If have any questions then please raise them at my office during business hours." >s You can't go that way. Don Toblerone mutters something about this, the day of his daughter's wedding. >e Before leaving, you make sure to get a hand stamp so you can return if necessary. (first opening the VIP door) Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Big Hunk is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. Big Hunk slaps his massive appendages together aggressively. Candy Kane struggles to skewer a cocktail onion with her sugar-stick arms. >s Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. Kit Kat takes an appreciative drag on her cigarette. >s Abandoned Store Little more than the shell of a local business. There are shop stairs leading to an upper floor, but the door to them is locked. The back door is open, leading south to the Factory Outskirts. To the north, the glass of the front door has been kicked in: it leads out onto Demerara Street, which would be visible through the big shop window if it hadn't been boarded up. You can hear the music from Candy Kane's club quite distinctly here. >s Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see Big Red, a quarter, a Wine Gum Wino and the Fudge Challenger here. ...wait. Big Red??? Your old mentor is standing by the car. He runs a finger along the bonnet, then tests the tackiness of the sugar-rain residue against his thumb. "You ever think about getting this thing washed?" he asks. "I thought you were retiring!" you say, too surprised to come up with a riposte to the dig about your ride. "Still a couple of days left to go." Big Red shrugs. "I thought you might want to sit down and chat about this new case of yours." He tugs at the car door - locked, naturally. "Or we could just keep standing out here in the rain." Smiling, you unlock the driver's side and squeeze inside. Leaning over, you pop the passenger door open for him. Big Red gets in. >x red Your old mentor, a fellow gumshoe. He's a bit of a hothead, with a spicy personality. >ask red about retiring "Yep!" Big Red beams. "This line of work tends to chew you up and spit you out. Especially when you're..." He gestures to his cinnamon-chewing-gum self. "I've got a holiday home picked out in the Big Rock Candy Mountains. Planning to take up skiing." >* eek That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >ask red about home "I know, I know, it's a little extravagant. But I wanted to get out of Sugar City, and I figured it would be a solid investment." >ask red about mountains "A wonderful place: you should come and see the lemonade springs someday." >ask red about case "Let's go over what you already know," says Big Red, helpful as ever. "Are there any obvious suspects? Just give me one - ask me about a name - and I'll tell you if there's anything I can share about them." You hear a two-stroke engine approaching at speed. >ask red about suspects "Think about who would have a motive to kill the victim in the first place. That's a solid place to start." Big Red's eyes suddenly widen. "Get down!" he yells. The Fudge Challenger's horn blares as he shoves your face into the steering wheel. The sound is almost immediately drowned out by a burst of gunfire. Fragments of tempered glass shower across the back of your neck. You look up. Big Red is breathing heavily, one hand pressed to an oozing hole in his throat. He raises the other, trembling, to point at the motorbike vanishing into the distance. "Get after him." You shove the key into the ignition, turn it, and manage to get the car into first. The storefronts seem to pass by at a crawl as you shift up into second. You fear you'll never catch the figure on the motorbike, but as you whirl around the next corner you see him screech around a bend just up ahead. Soon you find yourself close behind: the chase is on. >x bike A beaten-up Yumaha with the license plate removed. On the motorbike is a hitman. Struggling to keep the bike in view, you drive down an alley, smashing into a bunch of wooden boxes. The hitman twists round, arm held stiffly outwards. He blindly lets loose with his MAC-10, punching a row of holes into the Fudge Challenger's windscreen. >speed up You drive frantically, desperate to keep the hitman in view. Gaining on the bike a little, you pass a green Volkswagenwheel that you're sure you've seen several times before. The hitman twists round again, this time chancing a look down the sights. The world seems to slow as you find yourself staring straight down the barrel. You duck instinctively, powdered glass spraying your cheek as one more bullet smashes through the windscreen - but only one. You chance a look up and see the hitman angrily rapping the gun against the handlebars of his bike. >hit hitman You can't reach the hitman from here. Skidding swiftly around a bend, you hit a pram pushed by an elderly Werther's Original! Fortunately it turns out to be full of old cans. The hitman whips round yet again, but this time it is not to fire. The MAC-10 itself sails through the air - and the windscreen - coming to rest inside your car. "Bubble, I..." Big Red struggles to say something. "I want you to know..." >ask bubble about motive You ask yourself about that. Which is to say you mull it over in your head. After turning a sudden corner, you knock over a fruit cart full of chocolate oranges. Big Red's hand slips from his neck. Red syrup flows weakly from the wound. >undo City Streets [Previous turn undone.] >ask red about motive Big Red tries desperately to respond, but can't get out the words. Gaining on the bike a little, you narrowly avoid an oncoming taxi. Big Red's hand slips from his neck. Red syrup flows weakly from the wound. >listen to red You hear nothing unexpected. Struggling to keep the bike in view, you knock over a fruit cart full of chocolate oranges. >x gun A 9mm machine pistol. The barrel is hot to the touch. Skidding swiftly around a bend, you swerve wildly through traffic on the wrong side of the road. The whirling tyres of the bike swerving across the road ahead catch your attention. Somehow they seem key to bringing the thing to a halt... >x tyres Unremarkable rubber tyres that help the vehicle stick to the road. That's usually just what you want them to do. Usually. After turning a sudden corner, you hit a pram pushed by an elderly Werther's Original! Fortunately it turns out to be full of old cans. >i You are carrying: a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a long skewer a piece of taffy a crumpled hat a blue crystal a tyre iron a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) Skidding swiftly around a bend, you floor the accelerator and hear the 426 Hershey engine straining beneath the hood. >throw iron at tyres You can't - the windscreen is in the way. After turning a sudden corner, you narrowly avoid an oncoming taxi. You look around for anything that could help you end this chase, but there's basically nothing here but you and your mentor: two masses of gum, one living and one dead. >x gum You can't see any such thing. >x red Big Red rests with his face pressed against the dashboard, arms drooping into the footwell: your old friend, reduced to little more than a pile of chewing gum. His head thumps against the veneer surface with every lurch of the vehicle. Struggling to keep the bike in view, you swerve wildly through traffic on the wrong side of the road. >take gum You can't see any such thing. >take red You try to tear a piece off Big Red with your fingers, but can't get enough of a purchase. You'll have to try some other way... After turning a sudden corner, you pass a green Volkswagenwheel that you're sure you've seen several times before. >chew red Leaning way over from the driver's seat, you take a massive bite out of Big Red's shoulder. Tears stream down your face - and not just from the powerful hit of cinnamon flavour. You chew furiously. Skidding swiftly around a bend, you drive down an alley, smashing into a bunch of wooden boxes. You can barely keep up with the motorbike. You'll have to do something to slow it down. >* eek That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >throw gum at tyres You can't - the windscreen is in the way. Spicy cinnamon flavour fills your mouth as you chew. Struggling to keep the bike in view, you narrowly avoid an oncoming taxi. >open window You can't see any such thing. >open windscreen It isn't something you can open. Your jaw works frantically, chewing your mentor's flesh into a sticky wad. Skidding swiftly around a bend, you swerve wildly through traffic on the wrong side of the road. >break windscreen You deliver a sharp strike to the windscreen, and it tumbles away over the front of the bonnet. There's a grating crunch as it passes beneath the wheels. You chew furiously. Struggling to keep the bike in view, you lurch through a series of intersections on a steep hill. >throw gum at tyres You send the wad of gum flying to land just in front of the bike's front wheel. The tyre catches the sticky mass and jams in place so suddenly you have no time to react. The bike flips up. There's a crash as it rolls over the top of the car, and a sickening crunch as the rider rolls beneath. You slam on the brakes - screeching to a halt - but you know it's already too late. You get out of the Fudge Challenger. City Streets A quiet junction surrounded by shuttered businesses. You can see a hitman, a motorbike and the Fudge Challenger here. The hitman lies motionless on his back, a pool of yellow goo slowly spreading from his shattered body. >x hitman The hitman lies crumpled on the asphalt, a single swollen eye glaring at you through a crack in the shattered visor. >search him If the hitman has anything of interest, it'll be in his jacket. You open the zipped pocket, revealing a roll of cash. >x pocket A simple zipped pocket in the hitman's leather jacket. In the zipped pocket is a roll of cash. >x jacket A protective set of padded leather clothes. There's probably some brand logo somewhere, but you can't see one at a glance and it wouldn't matter if you could. What you do notice, however, is a zipped pocket on one side. >x cash A tight roll of banknotes secured by a lurid pink elastic band. The band has "NUGGS" printed over and over in bold bubble letters all around its circumference. You take it. >l City Streets A quiet junction surrounded by shuttered businesses. You can see a hitman, a motorbike and the Fudge Challenger here. You hear sirens in the distance. >x motorbike (the motorbike) A beaten-up Yumaha with the license plate removed. The sirens rapidly grow louder. >enter challenger You get into the Fudge Challenger. In the Fudge Challenger you can see a car key, a MAC-10 and Big Red. Suddenly, a Sweetwood Bounder screeches to a halt nearby. A sponge and marzipan cake woman throws open the side door, her face partially obscured by a cherry pie hat. "Get in!" she yells. The sirens are getting closer. Blue lights flicker at the end of the street. You can't afford to be dragged into an interview room, and she knows it. You clamber through the door. The vehicle is moving almost before you have it closed. It's certainly going at quite a clip by the time you manage to haul yourself into the passenger seat. In no time at all you find yourself back at the corner of Demerara and Maple, the music of Candy Kane's club pounding softly against the windows of the RV. Perhaps the chase didn't take you all that far from it in the end. Your mysterious accomplice pulls the handbrake sharply. "Out," she says. You strain to catch a glimpse of whatever's in the back of the vehicle as you're shoved roughly out onto the street. You can smell something sweet. Something intoxicating. Something you smelled back in the garage with Jimmy Piņata dangling overhead. "Out now." You stumble out into the road and turn just as she's about to slam the door behind you. "Who are you?" you ask. There is a pause. "You know exactly who I am." She steps out and folds her arms. "Say my name." Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Cake Woman and a phone booth here. >x woman A sponge cake woman with a marzipan complexion. Her flesh has a distinctive pink-and-white checquerboard pattern to it. She wears a stylish black jacket and an iconic cherry pie hat. She stands directly in front of the door to the Sweetwood Bounder, arms folded, conspicuously blocking access to whatever's inside. >say bakewell (to Cake Woman) "If you don't know who I am, we've got nothing to talk about." She glares at you. "Say my name." >x jacket Super stylish. >x hat (the crumpled hat) A crumpled Panama hat, ash-stained and rain-damp. It's certainly seen better days. Cake Woman suddenly doubles over, coughing uncontrollably. >x pie Iconic. >x bounder A 1986 Sweetwood Bounder: the kind of thing you'd normally see in some scenic caravan park rather than the gloomy back-alleys of Sugar City. Something tells you this recreational vehicle is used for business rather than pleasure... >l Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Cake Woman and a phone booth here. Cake Woman leans against the Sweetwood Bounder. >s Church of the Immaculate Confection A small church lined with pews. A few faithful sit upon them, heads bowed in prayer. A homeless halva sits near the back, head bowed in sleep. At the far end of the church stands the great altar, and beyond that a portrait of Pope Pontefract on the back wall. A small spiral staircase leads up to the Church Tower. The church opens onto the street to the north. You can see Father Wafer and a confessional (closed) here. >ask wafer about woman There is no reply. >enter confessional You get into the confessional. The confessional door swings back into place, clicking softly closed. >l The confessional You hear Father Wafer step into the other side of the confessional. "Confess your sins, my child," he says. >ask wafer about loan There is no reply. >ask wafer about loan shark A look of panic suddenly overtakes Father Wafer. "What... What have you heard?" Father Wafer adjusts his cassock. >i You are carrying: a roll of cash a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a long skewer a piece of taffy a crumpled hat a blue crystal a tyre iron a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >x wafer A crispy pink wafer dressed in a collared shirt and cassock. >out You get out of the confessional. Church of the Immaculate Confection A small church lined with pews. A few faithful sit upon them, heads bowed in prayer. A homeless halva sits near the back, head bowed in sleep. At the far end of the church stands the great altar, and beyond that a portrait of Pope Pontefract on the back wall. A small spiral staircase leads up to the Church Tower. The church opens onto the street to the north. You can see a confessional (in which is Father Wafer) here. The confessional door swings back into place, clicking softly closed. >u Father Wafer gets out of the confessional. Father Wafer steps between you and the entrance to the spiral staircase. "Apologies, my child. The tower isn't open to the public." Father Wafer adjusts his cassock. >x confessional An elaborate wooden booth in a quiet corner at the back of the church. It has two compartments: one for the penitent, and one for the priest. The two doors open outwards, their sturdy pull handles set close together in the centre of the cabinet. >enter confessional You get into the confessional. The confessional door swings back into place, clicking softly closed. >z Time passes. You hear Father Wafer step into the other side of the confessional. "Confess your sins, my child," he says. >out You get out of the confessional. Church of the Immaculate Confection A small church lined with pews. A few faithful sit upon them, heads bowed in prayer. A homeless halva sits near the back, head bowed in sleep. At the far end of the church stands the great altar, and beyond that a portrait of Pope Pontefract on the back wall. A small spiral staircase leads up to the Church Tower. The church opens onto the street to the north. You can see a confessional (in which is Father Wafer) here. The confessional door swings back into place, clicking softly closed. >i You are carrying: a roll of cash a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a long skewer a piece of taffy a crumpled hat a blue crystal a tyre iron a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) Father Wafer gets out of the confessional. >undo Church of the Immaculate Confection [Previous turn undone.] >* band to keep the doors closed would be nice That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >n Father Wafer gets out of the confessional. Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Cake Woman and a phone booth here. >open bounder You can't. Its owner is standing directly in front of the door, blocking it. Cake Woman suddenly doubles over, coughing uncontrollably. >x cake A sponge cake woman with a marzipan complexion. Her flesh has a distinctive pink-and-white checquerboard pattern to it. She wears a stylish black jacket and an iconic cherry pie hat. She stands directly in front of the door to the Sweetwood Bounder, arms folded, conspicuously blocking access to whatever's inside. >say cherry pie (to Cake Woman) "If you don't know who I am, we've got nothing to talk about." She glares at you. "Say my name." Cake Woman adjusts her cherry pie hat. >say bakewell tart (to Cake Woman) "If you don't know who I am, we've got nothing to talk about." She glares at you. "Say my name." >e Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. Kit Kat bobs along to the music. >x kat A laid-back bouncer, keeping an eye on the door while she smokes happily. >ask kat about cigarette "These things are sooooooo goooooood." Kit Kat takes a massive drag on the cigarette in her mouth, then breathes out a cloud of powdered sugar. "I'd offer you one, but I plan to smoke them all." >ask her about cake (Kit Kat about that) There is no reply. Kit Kat shoots a smile at one of the club regulars. >ask her about cake woman (Kit Kat about that) "I don't know anything about that." >ask her about cherry (Kit Kat about that) There is no reply. >e Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >e Venturing onto the freeway on foot would be incredibly dangerous. >x money You can't see any such thing. >i You are carrying: a roll of cash a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a long skewer a piece of taffy a crumpled hat a blue crystal a tyre iron a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >x cash A tight roll of banknotes secured by a lurid pink elastic band. The band has "NUGGS" printed over and over in bold bubble letters all around its circumference. >take band You take it. >* oh there we are That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >w Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. Kit Kat bobs along to the music. >w Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Cake Woman and a phone booth here. >s Church of the Immaculate Confection A small church lined with pews. A few faithful sit upon them, heads bowed in prayer. A homeless halva sits near the back, head bowed in sleep. At the far end of the church stands the great altar, and beyond that a portrait of Pope Pontefract on the back wall. A small spiral staircase leads up to the Church Tower. The church opens onto the street to the north. You can see Father Wafer and a confessional (closed) here. >x handles You could probably jam both doors closed if you slid something through these... Father Wafer straightens the portrait of Pope Pontefract ever so slightly. >enter confessional You get into the confessional. The confessional door swings back into place, clicking softly closed. >z Time passes. You hear Father Wafer step into the other side of the confessional. "Confess your sins, my child," he says. >out You get out of the confessional. Church of the Immaculate Confection A small church lined with pews. A few faithful sit upon them, heads bowed in prayer. A homeless halva sits near the back, head bowed in sleep. At the far end of the church stands the great altar, and beyond that a portrait of Pope Pontefract on the back wall. A small spiral staircase leads up to the Church Tower. The church opens onto the street to the north. You can see a confessional (in which is Father Wafer) here. The confessional door swings back into place, clicking softly closed. >put band on handles Putting things on the pull handles would achieve nothing. Father Wafer gets out of the confessional. >undo Church of the Immaculate Confection [Previous turn undone.] >put band in handles That's not going to work. Father Wafer gets out of the confessional. >undo Church of the Immaculate Confection [Previous turn undone.] >lock handles What do you want to lock the pull handles with? >skewer Those don't seem to be something you can lock. Father Wafer gets out of the confessional. >i You are carrying: a roll of cash a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a long skewer a piece of taffy a crumpled hat a blue crystal a tyre iron a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) The confessional door swings back into place, clicking softly closed. Father Wafer rubs at a discoloured patch on the surface of the altar. >undo Church of the Immaculate Confection [Previous turn undone.] >undo Church of the Immaculate Confection [Previous turn undone.] >put iron in handles You quickly slide the tyre iron through the handles of the confessional doors. The confessional doors rattle vigorously, but they can't open with the tyre iron jammed through the handles. >* Oh, was picturing it wrong, but had the right idea You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >u The confessional doors rattle vigorously, but they can't open with the tyre iron jammed through the handles. Church Tower A rather underutilised space above the Church of the Immaculate Confection. There's a church bell hanging overhead, a decoration box of Crispmas decorations in the corner, and a church window on the east side of the building overlooking the rooftops on the south side of Demerara Street. >x bell A tarnished bronze bell hanging from the ceiling. >ring bell You jump up and strike the bell, producing a dull "BONNNNNNG." >x box A dusty and foxed cardboard box. The words "CRISPMAS DECORATIONS" were written on it in black permanent marker in some bygone age. The final few letters of "DECORATIONS" are reduced in size and scrunched together towards the end of the word, as if the writer didn't anticipate quite how much space it would require. >search box You can't see inside, since the decoration box is closed. >open it You open the decoration box, revealing some Crispmas decorations and a leather binder. >x decorations (the Crispmas decorations) Toffee Crisp...Coffee Crisp...Peppermint Crisp... Yep! The entire trinity is represented in these festive decorations! >search box In the decoration box are some Crispmas decorations and a leather binder. >x binder A binder of the sort that people typically keep important documents inside. But what was it doing tucked away in the box of Crispmas decorations? And what secrets lurk within... >take it Taken. >read it A binder of the sort that people typically keep important documents inside. But what was it doing tucked away in the box of Crispmas decorations? And what secrets lurk within... >open it The leather binder contains a perfectly standard record of the income and expenses of the Church of the Immaculate Confection. Or at least, it's perfectly standard up until a point. A few weeks ago there were some significant unexpected maintenance expenses. It's clear that they were paid in full, but not where the money came from. >e (first opening the church window) Demerara_Street_Rooftops You're standing on the rooftops south of Demerara Street. The abandoned building that acts as a cut-through to the docks is readily identifiable by its particularly appalling state of repair: there's a large hole in the roof, large enough for you to drop down to the upper floor. You're surprised the city doesn't simply level this dump. >* oops, room name You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >d Abandoned Store Upstairs A former office space and storeroom, almost obliterated by water damage from the gaping hole in the ceiling. There's a rotten desk against one wall. The shop stairs down to the ground floor run along the other. >x hole A large hole in the roof of the abandoned store. It's pretty hard to miss. >x desk A bog standard wooden office desk. Bog standard, of course, because it's incredibly soggy and it's got some gnarly mushrooms sprouting from it. There's a large drawer on the right-hand side. >search it You can't see inside, since the rotten desk is closed. >oepn drawer That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >open drawer You open the large drawer, revealing a jiffy bag. >x bag (the rucksack) A sun-faded denim rucksack. It's well worn, and plastered haphazardly with patches of various designs. In the rucksack is a butane lighter. >x jiffy An unassuming brown jiffy bag - exactly the kind you would use if you wanted to store something in an inconspicuous fashion. >take it Taken. >open it You open the jiffy bag, revealing some drug balloons. >x balloons Small quantities of blue crystal candy, wrapped up in several layers of condoms. >* aha! That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >d The door to the shop floor doesn't require a key from this side. You unlock it and click the little slider into position so it won't re-lock itself after. Abandoned Store Little more than the shell of a local business. There are shop stairs leading to an upper floor. The back door is open, leading south to the Factory Outskirts. To the north, the glass of the front door has been kicked in: it leads out onto Demerara Street, which would be visible through the big shop window if it hadn't been boarded up. You can hear the music from Candy Kane's club quite distinctly here. >n Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >w Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Cake Woman and a phone booth here. Cake Woman settles her wire-framed glasses on the bridge of her nose. >s Church of the Immaculate Confection A small church lined with pews. A few faithful sit upon them, heads bowed in prayer. A homeless halva sits near the back, head bowed in sleep. At the far end of the church stands the great altar, and beyond that a portrait of Pope Pontefract on the back wall. A small spiral staircase leads up to the Church Tower. The church opens onto the street to the north. You can see a confessional (closed) here. The confessional doors rattle vigorously, but they can't open with the tyre iron jammed through the handles. >take iron You take the tyre iron. Father Wafer emerges from the confessional, shooting you an angry look as he does so. The confessional door swings back into place, clicking softly closed. >show binder to wafer There's no point showing evidence to someone you haven't accused of the murder. Father Wafer adjusts his cassock. >ask wafer about binder "I'm afraid I was obliged...obliged to...erm...rely on borrowed money to fund some repairs to the church. I...er...w-w-w-would rather not d-d-d-divulge the identity of the d-d-d-d-donor..." >ask wafer about borrowed money "I'm afraid I was obliged...obliged to...erm...rely on borrowed money to fund some repairs to the church. I...er...w-w-w-would rather not d-d-d-divulge the identity of the d-d-d-d-donor..." >ask wafer about donor There is no reply. >enter confessional You get into the confessional. The confessional door swings back into place, clicking softly closed. >z Time passes. You hear Father Wafer step into the other side of the confessional. "Confess your sins, my child," he says. >ask wafer about borrowed money "I'm afraid I was obliged...obliged to...erm...rely on borrowed money to fund some repairs to the church. I...er...w-w-w-would rather not d-d-d-divulge the identity of the d-d-d-d-donor..." Father Wafer clears his throat softly. >ask wafer about donor There is no reply. >w You can't reach the west from here. >out You get out of the confessional. Church of the Immaculate Confection A small church lined with pews. A few faithful sit upon them, heads bowed in prayer. A homeless halva sits near the back, head bowed in sleep. At the far end of the church stands the great altar, and beyond that a portrait of Pope Pontefract on the back wall. A small spiral staircase leads up to the Church Tower. The church opens onto the street to the north. You can see a confessional (in which is Father Wafer) here. The confessional door swings back into place, clicking softly closed. >n Father Wafer gets out of the confessional. Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Cake Woman and a phone booth here. >e Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >s Abandoned Store Little more than the shell of a local business. There are shop stairs leading to an upper floor. The back door is open, leading south to the Factory Outskirts. To the north, the glass of the front door has been kicked in: it leads out onto Demerara Street, which would be visible through the big shop window if it hadn't been boarded up. You can hear the music from Candy Kane's club quite distinctly here. >s Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see a quarter and a Wine Gum Wino here. >s Factory Entrance A patch of industrial wasteland virtually indistinguishable from the Factory Outskirts on the other side of the open chainlink gates just to the north. The mud is marked with countless footprints, most leading directly towards the docks. The taffy factory itself towers above you, industrial pipes and chimneys jutting from the roof like the sprouts of a sweet potato way too old to eat. The factory doors are to the south. They are firmly locked, tattered yellow police tape stretched haphazardly across them for good measure. You can't go west because your way is blocked by a big stack of rusting sugar bins. To the east lie the cola docks - fizzing away quietly in the night - and the handful of businesses just inland of them. >e The Docks A rain-sticky expanse of concrete. The old taffy factory lies to the west. Dilapidated piers jut out like rotting teeth just to the south. Crumbling abandoned businesses surround the area, also like rotting teeth: the garage to the east is one of them. Maybe it's just the distant river of cola, but the whole area has an aura of oral decay. You can see a patrol car here. >s The Piers Each pier is a long wooden platform. They stand in various states of disrepair. The cola river laps hungrily at their foundations, fizzing with quiet potency. There is nowhere to go from here but the docks to the north. You can see a fishing boat here. >put skewer in window You put the long skewer through the narrow crack and press its taffy payload firmly against the keys' cork float. You just about manage to lift the float, but though the taffy is somewhat tacky, it's not quite adhesive enough to hold the full weight of the boat keys. >light taffy This dangerous act would achieve little. >turn on lighter You thumb the striker wheel of the lighter, producing a small yellow flame. Satisfied that the lighter works, you lift your thumb and let the flame go out. >burn taffy This dangerous act would achieve little. >* oh come on That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >x taffy A chewy chunk of taffy of exactly the sort the factory used to make before all Sugar City's manufacturing moved abroad. >chew it You wolf down the delicious piece of taffy. Ahhh, that's the stuff! >undo The Piers [Previous turn undone.] >lick it You lick the piece of taffy. It tastes delicious, but now your spit has made it all sticky and gross. >put skewer in window You put the long skewer through the narrow crack and press its taffy payload firmly against the keys' cork float. The licky, sticky mess grips it firmly, and after a couple of nerve-wracking drops you succeed in hoisting the keys out of the window and into your grasp. >* lol That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >x keys A couple of keys on a fob with a small piece of cork - you assume in case they get dropped overboard. >unlock boat (the fishing boat with the fishing boat keys) You unlock the cabin. >in You open the cabin. You peer around the cabin cautiously, realising that since the keys were on the table, whoever left them there is likely still inside. Your caution, it turns out, is well warranted as somebody leaps from the bed. "Who's there!?" You recognise the figure scrambling for her clothes as Wax Lips: she typically works at - though is not actually employed by - Candy Kane's. You explain the nature of your current investigation, and her face immediately softens. "Oh no..." she says. "Not Jimmy..." You take a look around. In the cabin are Wax Lips, a notebook, a fold-out table and a bunk. Wax Lips nervously smooths out her dress. >x wax lips A hooker with a heart of...food-grade paraffin? >x notebook A battered, spiral-bound notebook with the initials "J.P." scrawled on the cover in Sharpie.. The extensive use suggests there may be something important inside. >x table A small, flimsy table by the port window. >x bunk A simple bed, built into the cabin of the boat. It doesn't look particularly comfortable. Wax Lips tilts her head directly upwards, as if she needs to cry but her foundation was $48. >take notebook Taken. >read it A battered, spiral-bound notebook with the initials "J.P." scrawled on the cover in Sharpie.. The extensive use suggests there may be something important inside. >open it The notebook lists a great many weights - though exactly what was being weighed is a detail conspicuous in its absence. As you flip through the numbers, you notice that the weights frequently seem to come up short. At these points there are dollar values scribbled in the margin - steadily growing dollar values. The way things shook out, you don't think Jimmy Piņata was racking up savings. It seems far more likely he was racking up debt. >ask wax about wax "I'm just a girl doing what I can to get by." Wax Lips nervously smooths out her dress. >ask wax about jimmy "He was a really good guy. Loved travelling. He'd add a patch to his backpack for each new place he visited." Her eyes well with tears. "I can't say he was never in any trouble, but I didn't think he had any enemies. Sorry if that's no help for figuring out suspects." >x backpack A sun-faded denim rucksack. It's well worn, and plastered haphazardly with patches of various designs. In the rucksack is a butane lighter. >x patches You notice a patch with a garishly coloured sugar skull on it. Wax Lips folds her arms across her chest, looking sadly at the floor. >ask wax about backpack There is no reply. >show backpack to wax There's no point showing evidence to someone you haven't accused of the murder. Wax Lips sobs quietly. >ask wax about enemies "You must know about Don Toblerone. And the Sourballz." She pauses for a moment. "The thing is, Jimmy knew about them too. I think he knew enough to avoid them." >ask wax about don "Everbody knows Don Toblerone is trouble. Jimmy certainly did." >ask wax about sourballz "The Sourballz are trouble. I make it my business not to know anything about them." >ask wax about crystal "That stuff's amazing. Jimmy always seemed to have some to share around." Wax Lips folds her arms across her chest, looking sadly at the floor. >ask wax about drug lord "I don't really know anything about her. I think Jimmy mentioned her, though. Possibly while very drunk..." >ask wax about notebook "That was Jimmy's. I don't really know anything about it." Wax Lips sobs quietly. >ask wax about church "That's not really my scene." >ask wax about wafer "I don't know who that is. Sorry." >ask wax about murder Greasy tears run down her face. "It's just so awful! Who would do something like this?" >ask wax about loan shark "I never heard anything about that. But Jimmy did seem increasingly worried about something over the past few days. Maybe that was it?" Wax Lips nervously smooths out her dress. >i You are carrying: a notebook a long skewer a piece of taffy some fishing boat keys a tyre iron a jiffy bag (open) some drug balloons a leather binder a roll of cash a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a crumpled hat a blue crystal a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >ask wax about balloons There is no reply. Wax Lips sobs quietly. >e You get out of the cabin. The Piers Each pier is a long wooden platform. They stand in various states of disrepair. The cola river laps hungrily at their foundations, fizzing with quiet potency. There is nowhere to go from here but the docks to the north. You can see a fishing boat here. You can't go that way. >n The Docks A rain-sticky expanse of concrete. The old taffy factory lies to the west. Dilapidated piers jut out like rotting teeth just to the south. Crumbling abandoned businesses surround the area, also like rotting teeth: the garage to the east is one of them. Maybe it's just the distant river of cola, but the whole area has an aura of oral decay. You can see a patrol car here. >e Garage A small automotive workshop with a toolbench against one wall and a car lift in the centre of the floor. Above the car lift, dangling from a metal beam by a length of rope, is the corpse of Jimmy Piņata. The floor is littered with wrapped candies: his, it seems fair to assume. The open garage shutters to the west lead out onto the docks. You can see Officer Bagel and a pile of raisins here. >ask bagel about loan shark "I can't help you there." Officer Bagel stares sadly at the corpse of Jimmy Piņata, twisting on the end of its rope. >smell You can detect nothing beyond the usual sticky smell that lingers in the air all around Sugar City. >* hmm That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >smell candies They've all been jumbled together inside Jimmy Piņata, so you can't identify the flavour of any given candy that way. They all smell like tutti frutti. Tutti frutti and terror. >smell raisins They smell like grapes that have been picked, left in the sun to dry, then spent a few hours in a police officer's stomach. They're pretty gross. Officer Bagel adjusts his police cap. >smell rope The rope doesn't smell strongly enough of anything to overpower the omni-present syrupy background fug of Sugar City. >smell jimmy Jimmy Piņata smells faintly of rum, mint, and lime. Other than that you detect nothing of note. >l Garage A small automotive workshop with a toolbench against one wall and a car lift in the centre of the floor. Above the car lift, dangling from a metal beam by a length of rope, is the corpse of Jimmy Piņata. The floor is littered with wrapped candies: his, it seems fair to assume. The open garage shutters to the west lead out onto the docks. You can see Officer Bagel and a pile of raisins here. >smell iron There's a faint whiff of lemons around the handle. >w The Docks A rain-sticky expanse of concrete. The old taffy factory lies to the west. Dilapidated piers jut out like rotting teeth just to the south. Crumbling abandoned businesses surround the area, also like rotting teeth: the garage to the east is one of them. Maybe it's just the distant river of cola, but the whole area has an aura of oral decay. You can see a patrol car here. >* hmm That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >w Factory Entrance A patch of industrial wasteland virtually indistinguishable from the Factory Outskirts on the other side of the open chainlink gates just to the north. The mud is marked with countless footprints, most leading directly towards the docks. The taffy factory itself towers above you, industrial pipes and chimneys jutting from the roof like the sprouts of a sweet potato way too old to eat. The factory doors are to the south. They are firmly locked, tattered yellow police tape stretched haphazardly across them for good measure. You can't go west because your way is blocked by a big stack of rusting sugar bins. To the east lie the cola docks - fizzing away quietly in the night - and the handful of businesses just inland of them. >x bins Vast quantities of sugar went into the taffy here back when the factory was still running - that's how Sugar City got its name. Now all that's left is this vast graveyard of the thin steel bins that it came in, stacked messily and slowly rusting away to nothing. >open bins They aren't something you can open. >n Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see a quarter and a Wine Gum Wino here. >x wino He's slumped on the ground by the burning trash can, bottle in hand. His body is wrapped in a thick coat not unlike your own, but the rain falls freely on his slack face. Based on the sticky gunk around his mouth, it appears he was toasting marshmallows not so long ago. >smell windo You can't see any such thing. >x can A metal can of trash, though "burning" might be an overstatement. It's died down to embers now, steaming quietly in the syrupy rain. >smell wino There's a definite whiff of booze. >n Abandoned Store Little more than the shell of a local business. There are shop stairs leading to an upper floor. The back door is open, leading south to the Factory Outskirts. To the north, the glass of the front door has been kicked in: it leads out onto Demerara Street, which would be visible through the big shop window if it hadn't been boarded up. You can hear the music from Candy Kane's club quite distinctly here. >w You can't go that way. >n Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >w Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Cake Woman and a phone booth here. >x woman A sponge cake woman with a marzipan complexion. Her flesh has a distinctive pink-and-white checquerboard pattern to it. She wears a stylish black jacket and an iconic cherry pie hat. She stands directly in front of the door to the Sweetwood Bounder, arms folded, conspicuously blocking access to whatever's inside. Cake Woman leans against the Sweetwood Bounder. >ask woman about drug lord "If you don't know who I am, we've got nothing to talk about." She glares at you. "Say my name." >say drug lord (to Cake Woman) "If you don't know who I am, we've got nothing to talk about." She glares at you. "Say my name." >save Ok. >i You are carrying: a notebook a long skewer a piece of taffy some fishing boat keys a tyre iron a jiffy bag (open) some drug balloons a leather binder a roll of cash a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a crumpled hat a blue crystal a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >read notebook A battered, spiral-bound notebook with the initials "J.P." scrawled on the cover in Sharpie.. The extensive use suggests there may be something important inside. Cake Woman settles her wire-framed glasses on the bridge of her nose. >open it The notebook lists a great many weights - though exactly what was being weighed is a detail conspicuous in its absence. As you flip through the numbers, you notice that the weights frequently seem to come up short. At these points there are dollar values scribbled in the margin - steadily growing dollar values. The way things shook out, you don't think Jimmy Piņata was racking up savings. It seems far more likely he was racking up debt. >e Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >e Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >e Venturing onto the freeway on foot would be incredibly dangerous. >n Adult Bookstore Wow. It's, uh, porny in here. There are shelves and shelves of the stuff. You'd say they've got quite a range of books, but they really have just one type of books. The bookstore entrance is to the south, and there's an nightclub emergency exit to the west that leads straight out into the alley. There's also a door to the north leading to a back room. You can see Jawbreaker here. Jawbreaker attempts to scratch his cheek against his massive shoulder. >show cash to jawbreaker There's no point showing evidence to someone you haven't accused of the murder. >ask jawbreaker about notebook There is no reply. Jawbreaker makes a sort of shoulder motion that suggests a fist punching a palm. It would be far more intimidating if he had fists or palms. Or any arms at all, for that matter. >n Back Room This place is, surprisingly, much less gross than the area of the adult bookstore that's open to the public just to the south. It's basically just a small, sparsely furnished office. On the desk are an ashtray and a whisky tumbler (in which are some elastic bands). You can also see a swivel chair (in which is Jelle Bean) and a stack of magazines here. >ask bean about notebook There is no reply. >ask bean about cake woman "I don't know anything about that." >ask bean about loan shark "I can't help you there." >smell bean Jelle Bean is coated entirely in carnauba wax (and tweed), and so smells only very faintly of watermelon. It's almost completely overpowered by the chocolately scent of this room's usual occupant: Don Toblerone. >s Adult Bookstore Wow. It's, uh, porny in here. There are shelves and shelves of the stuff. You'd say they've got quite a range of books, but they really have just one type of books. The bookstore entrance is to the south, and there's an nightclub emergency exit to the west that leads straight out into the alley. There's also a door to the north leading to a back room. You can see Jawbreaker here. >smell jawbreaker Jawbreaker doesn't smell strongly enough of anything to overpower the omni-present syrupy background fug of Sugar City. >w (first opening the bookstore emergency exit) You push your way out into the alley. The emergency exit shuts behind you with a loud click. Alley A dim, dank, narrow pathway between the adult bookstore and Candy Kane's Club. Some dumpsters stand against a wall. There is a distinctive sticky stain on the concrete here. The alley is a dead end to the north, opening onto the street to the south: to the southwest is Demerara Street, and to the southeast is Demerara and Caster. Emergency exits from the club and bookstore open onto the alley from the west and east respectively. >w (first opening the nightclub emergency exit) There's no handle on the outside. >s Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >smell kat Kit Kat smells of chocolate-covered wafer and cigarettes. Actually mostly of cigarettes. Girl is basically a walking ashtray. >in There are two places you could go inside from here: Candy Kane's club, to the north; and the abandoned store to the south. Kit Kat waves a couple of patrons through the doors of the club. >n Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Big Hunk is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. Big Hunk quietly surveys the scene. >smell hunk He smells kinda funky. >smell kane Is it weird to say her breath smells great? Super minty. Candy Kane attempts to shake up a martini with her rigid candy arms, but ends up dropping the whole thing on the floor. >w You show your hand stamp to Big Hunk. VIP Room A swanky private space for the upper-crust visitors to Candy Kane's Club. There's a swanky glass table in the centre, with an ornate bowl of taffy sitting on it. The rest of the club lies through the door to the east. You can see Don Toblerone and Mayor Angue here. Don Toblerone grumbles something about keeping friends close and enemies closer. >smell angue He smells like expensive cologne. Also egg whites and sugar. >smell don He smells of rich and luxurious Swiss chocolate. Mayor Angue places a hand on the bowl of taffy, considers the massive pile within, then thinks better of having another piece just now. >e Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Big Hunk is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. Candy Kane clumsily muddles mint and lime at the bottom of a mojito glass. >s Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >s Abandoned Store Little more than the shell of a local business. There are shop stairs leading to an upper floor. The back door is open, leading south to the Factory Outskirts. To the north, the glass of the front door has been kicked in: it leads out onto Demerara Street, which would be visible through the big shop window if it hadn't been boarded up. You can hear the music from Candy Kane's club quite distinctly here. >s Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see a quarter and a Wine Gum Wino here. >smell wino There's a definite whiff of booze. >s Factory Entrance A patch of industrial wasteland virtually indistinguishable from the Factory Outskirts on the other side of the open chainlink gates just to the north. The mud is marked with countless footprints, most leading directly towards the docks. The taffy factory itself towers above you, industrial pipes and chimneys jutting from the roof like the sprouts of a sweet potato way too old to eat. The factory doors are to the south. They are firmly locked, tattered yellow police tape stretched haphazardly across them for good measure. You can't go west because your way is blocked by a big stack of rusting sugar bins. To the east lie the cola docks - fizzing away quietly in the night - and the handful of businesses just inland of them. >e The Docks A rain-sticky expanse of concrete. The old taffy factory lies to the west. Dilapidated piers jut out like rotting teeth just to the south. Crumbling abandoned businesses surround the area, also like rotting teeth: the garage to the east is one of them. Maybe it's just the distant river of cola, but the whole area has an aura of oral decay. You can see a patrol car here. >e Garage A small automotive workshop with a toolbench against one wall and a car lift in the centre of the floor. Above the car lift, dangling from a metal beam by a length of rope, is the corpse of Jimmy Piņata. The floor is littered with wrapped candies: his, it seems fair to assume. The open garage shutters to the west lead out onto the docks. You can see Officer Bagel and a pile of raisins here. >smell bagel Mmm. Bakery fresh. Officer Bagel stares sadly at the corpse of Jimmy Piņata, twisting on the end of its rope. >w The Docks A rain-sticky expanse of concrete. The old taffy factory lies to the west. Dilapidated piers jut out like rotting teeth just to the south. Crumbling abandoned businesses surround the area, also like rotting teeth: the garage to the east is one of them. Maybe it's just the distant river of cola, but the whole area has an aura of oral decay. You can see a patrol car here. >w Factory Entrance A patch of industrial wasteland virtually indistinguishable from the Factory Outskirts on the other side of the open chainlink gates just to the north. The mud is marked with countless footprints, most leading directly towards the docks. The taffy factory itself towers above you, industrial pipes and chimneys jutting from the roof like the sprouts of a sweet potato way too old to eat. The factory doors are to the south. They are firmly locked, tattered yellow police tape stretched haphazardly across them for good measure. You can't go west because your way is blocked by a big stack of rusting sugar bins. To the east lie the cola docks - fizzing away quietly in the night - and the handful of businesses just inland of them. >n Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see a quarter and a Wine Gum Wino here. >w Though there's a road here you could travel in that direction, you have absolutely no reason to do so. >n Abandoned Store Little more than the shell of a local business. There are shop stairs leading to an upper floor. The back door is open, leading south to the Factory Outskirts. To the north, the glass of the front door has been kicked in: it leads out onto Demerara Street, which would be visible through the big shop window if it hadn't been boarded up. You can hear the music from Candy Kane's club quite distinctly here. >w You can't go that way. >n Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >w Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Cake Woman and a phone booth here. >w There's nothing relevant to your investigation in that direction. >s Church of the Immaculate Confection A small church lined with pews. A few faithful sit upon them, heads bowed in prayer. A homeless halva sits near the back, head bowed in sleep. At the far end of the church stands the great altar, and beyond that a portrait of Pope Pontefract on the back wall. A small spiral staircase leads up to the Church Tower. The church opens onto the street to the north. You can see Father Wafer and a confessional (closed) here. >smell wafer He smells sweet and creamy. Father Wafer clasps his hands neatly before him. >smell halva He smells faintly of pistachios. >* hmm That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >u Father Wafer steps between you and the entrance to the spiral staircase. "Apologies, my child. The tower isn't open to the public." >n Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Cake Woman and a phone booth here. >* lemon on the iron, nougat on the keys You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >* I really have no idea on the cake woman though That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >say black forest (to Cake Woman) "If you don't know who I am, we've got nothing to talk about." She glares at you. "Say my name." >say black forest cake (to Cake Woman) "If you don't know who I am, we've got nothing to talk about." She glares at you. "Say my name." Cake Woman leans against the Sweetwood Bounder. >say black (to Cake Woman) "If you don't know who I am, we've got nothing to talk about." She glares at you. "Say my name." >hint Try typing "verbs" to get a list of all the crucial actions you can perform. >verbs NORTH (n for short): go north EAST (e for short): go east SOUTH (s for short) go south WEST (w for short): go west UP (u for short): go up DOWN (d for short): go down ENTER (something): enter something such as a vehicle, container, or door EXIT: get back out of it EXITS: list directions leading away from your current location (including locked/guarded doors etc.) LOOK (l for short): look at your surroundings EXAMINE (x for short): examine a specific object INVENTORY (i for short): check your inventory OPEN: open a door or container CLOSE: close a door or container UNLOCK (door) with (key): unlock a particular door or container with a particular key TAKE (or get): take an object TASTE (or lick): taste an object EAT: eat an object SMELL: smell an object HIT (or attack): strike an object with your hands KICK: kick an object PUT (an object) in/on (an object): put the first object in/on the second THROW (an object) at (another object): throw one object at another ASK (a person) about (a topic): ask someone what they know about something ACCUSE (a person): accuse someone of the crime (or get a reminder of the evidence they're asking for, if they're already accused) SHOW (a person) (an object): show someone some evidence CREDITS: see the game's credits VERBS: print this list of verbs for reference KEYWORDS: set the highlighting style for object and direction keywords HINT: get a useful hint SAVE: save progress RESTORE: restore progress >hitn That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >hint Tasting and smelling things will often yield information you wouldn't be able to get otherwise. >hint You can usually examine an object simply by entering its name (especially if it's highlighted in the room description). The main exceptin is doors: entering the name of a door will typically cause you to go through it. (Use "EXAMINE DOOR" if you just want to look at it instead.) >hint Valid conversation topics are highlighted in bold during dialogue. If you ASK about something obvious, the character you're talking to may provide another avenue of investigation. >* OK those are just general That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >* From a quick look at the hint file seems like I've done everything but the only hint for cake woman's name is the newspaper That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >l Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Cake Woman and a phone booth here. >e Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >s Abandoned Store Little more than the shell of a local business. There are shop stairs leading to an upper floor. The back door is open, leading south to the Factory Outskirts. To the north, the glass of the front door has been kicked in: it leads out onto Demerara Street, which would be visible through the big shop window if it hadn't been boarded up. You can hear the music from Candy Kane's club quite distinctly here. >s Factory Outskirts A deeply depressing stretch of muddy industrial road dividing the abandoned taffy factory to the south from a row of abandoned stores to the north. The back door of one store in particular is conspicuously open: a burning trash can stands beside it. Just beyond that is the seedy part of town, which is to say the part that has any meaningful footfall. You can see a quarter and a Wine Gum Wino here. >save Ok. >take quarter Are you sure you're willing to steal the only money this unfortunate fellow has? (yes/no) yes You take the quarter. You monster. >n Abandoned Store Little more than the shell of a local business. There are shop stairs leading to an upper floor. The back door is open, leading south to the Factory Outskirts. To the north, the glass of the front door has been kicked in: it leads out onto Demerara Street, which would be visible through the big shop window if it hadn't been boarded up. You can hear the music from Candy Kane's club quite distinctly here. >n Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >put coin in box You push the quarter into the coin slot and open the box, taking the final paper. >read paper (the tabloid) You flip open the tabloid and find a story about the SCPD's recent successes in their war against the city's sherbet dealers: there's less and less "booger sugar" on the streets every day. Kit Kat shoots a smile at one of the club regulars. >read paper (the tabloid) You flip open the tabloid and find a story about Sugar City's former mayor, Rubus McFreeze: murdered in the abandoned taffy factory two years ago. >read paper (the tabloid) You flip open the tabloid and find a story about a mysterious new crime lord known for supplying an exceptionally strong variety of blue crystal candy. His name? Battenberg. Kit Kat waves a couple of patrons through the doors of the club. >* ah That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >read paper (the tabloid) You flip open the tabloid and find a story about Sugar City's former mayor, Rubus McFreeze: murdered in the abandoned taffy factory two years ago. >undo Demerara Street [Previous turn undone.] >undo Demerara Street [Previous turn undone.] >undo Demerara Street [Previous turn undone.] > I beg your pardon? >undo Demerara Street [Previous turn undone.] >undo Demerara Street [Previous turn undone.] >undo Demerara Street [Previous turn undone.] >undo Abandoned Store [Previous turn undone.] >undo Factory Outskirts [Previous turn undone.] >undo Factory Outskirts [Previous turn undone.] >undo Factory Outskirts [Previous turn undone.] >undo Abandoned Store [Previous turn undone.] >i You are carrying: a notebook a long skewer a piece of taffy some fishing boat keys a tyre iron a jiffy bag (open) some drug balloons a leather binder a roll of cash a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a crumpled hat a blue crystal a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >n Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >w Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Cake Woman and a phone booth here. >say battenberg Battenberg narrows her eyes. "You're God-damn right." Battenberg settles her wire-framed glasses on the bridge of her nose. >* I guess that's like a Breaking Bad reference? That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >ask her about herself (Battenberg about that) "I think we've established who I am." >ask her about crystal (Battenberg about that) "It's the best damn crystal candy in Sugar City or anywhere else. 99.1% chemically pure." Battenberg adjusts her cherry pie hat. >ask her about don (Battenberg about that) "The Don should certainly be among your suspects: I know my blue crystal has really put a dent in his sherbet sales. But something doesn't sit right with me. Don Toblerone is smart enough to know that taking out Jimmy wouldn't stop me from supplying my product. And even if it was some random member of the Sourballz who hadn't thought it through, that leaves some other loose ends..." >ask her about jimmy (Battenberg about that) "He was a good person. Maybe not smart enough to keep out of trouble, but not bad. That's why I want you to solve the case. He didn't deserve what he got." >ask her about case (Battenberg about that) "Somebody murdered Jimmy, and I want to get to the bottom of it. I can't afford to poke around Sugar City, but you can. Find some suspects. Figure out if any of them had a motive. And make sure that whoever did this gets what's coming to them." Battenberg leans against the Sweetwood Bounder. >ask her about otive (Battenberg about that) There is no reply. >ask her about motive (Battenberg about that) "From what I hear, this murder was intended to send a message. Think about what that message might have been, and you may be able to narrow down your suspects." Battenberg settles her wire-framed glasses on the bridge of her nose. >ask her about suspects (Battenberg about that) "I'm not from around here. I don't know the key players - other than Don Toblerone. But if it was him, I think I'd know it was him. I think it's more likely that the murder was committed by someone I don't know." >ask her about don (Battenberg about that) "The Don should certainly be among your suspects: I know my blue crystal has really put a dent in his sherbet sales. But something doesn't sit right with me. Don Toblerone is smart enough to know that taking out Jimmy wouldn't stop me from supplying my product. And even if it was some random member of the Sourballz who hadn't thought it through, that leaves some other loose ends..." >ask her about sherbet (Battenberg about that) "It certainly seems to have its fans. But it's nothing next to my blue crystal." >ask her about nuggs (Battenberg about that) "I don't know anything about that." Battenberg leans against the Sweetwood Bounder. >ask her about notebook (Battenberg about that) There is no reply. >l Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Battenberg and a phone booth here. >open bounder You can't. Its owner is standing directly in front of the door, blocking it. >in You get into the phone booth. In the phone booth you can see a payphone. Battenberg settles her wire-framed glasses on the bridge of her nose. >x keypad A rugged metal keypad, designed to withstand overenthusiastic button-presses from heavy-handed callers, as well as abuse from vandals. Despite the wipe-clean surface, all the buttons are sticky. The nine and one keys in particular are thick with gunk - it looks like nougat. >n You get out of the phone booth. Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Battenberg and a phone booth here. You don't have a key, nor any reason to go inside the apartment building in the first place. >e Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >x kat A laid-back bouncer, keeping an eye on the door while she smokes happily. Kit Kat bobs along to the music. >n Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Big Hunk is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. >x hunk A towering mound of nougat, studded with peanuts, crammed into a too-small suit. >* nougat, ey You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >ask hunk about payphone There is no reply. Candy Kane attempts to shake up a martini with her rigid candy arms, but ends up dropping the whole thing on the floor. >ask hunk about phone booth "It's directly west of this building." Big Hunk glowers an unruly patron into submission. >ask hunk about keypad There is no reply. >save Ok. >accuse hunk "I think you whacked Jimmy Piņata," you say to Big Hunk. Big Hunk's already-tense body stiffens. "I've been keeping my nose clean for years. Why would I risk another spell in the tequila slammer?" Big Hunk raises a fingerless slab of nougat to his head and struggles to adjust his earpiece. Candy Kane stiffly bops her head along to the music. >tell hunk about keypad You're here to investigate. It would likely be more fruitful to ASK Big Hunk about that instead. >tell hunk about phone booth You're here to investigate. It would likely be more fruitful to ASK Big Hunk about that instead. >* I guess this is the SHOW mechanic? That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >i You are carrying: a notebook a long skewer a piece of taffy some fishing boat keys a tyre iron a jiffy bag (open) some drug balloons a leather binder a roll of cash a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a crumpled hat a blue crystal a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) Candy Kane attempts to shake up a martini with her rigid candy arms, but ends up dropping the whole thing on the floor. >show notebook to hunk Big Hunk regards the notebook impassively. >* seems more likely to have been Beane That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >s Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >e Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >e Venturing onto the freeway on foot would be incredibly dangerous. >n Adult Bookstore Wow. It's, uh, porny in here. There are shelves and shelves of the stuff. You'd say they've got quite a range of books, but they really have just one type of books. The bookstore entrance is to the south, and there's an nightclub emergency exit to the west that leads straight out into the alley. There's also a door to the north leading to a back room. You can see Jawbreaker here. Jawbreaker attempts to scratch his cheek against his massive shoulder. >n Back Room This place is, surprisingly, much less gross than the area of the adult bookstore that's open to the public just to the south. It's basically just a small, sparsely furnished office. On the desk are an ashtray and a whisky tumbler (in which are some elastic bands). You can also see a swivel chair (in which is Jelle Bean) and a stack of magazines here. >accuse bean "I think you whacked Jimmy Piņata," you say to Jelle Bean. "What?" Jelle Bean snorts. "That's preposterous. I'm an accountant, not a killer. Why on earth would I murder this Piņata fellow?" >show crystal to bean You hold the blue crystal up in front of Jelle Bean's face. "It's pretty obvious Jimmy Piņata was a drug mule. A lot of money to be had there for someone with a head for business." "And?" Jelle Bean shrugs. "I'm no businessman. Like I said. I'm an accountant. You want to maximise your tax deductions? I'm your guy. You want to move a load of drugs? Go ask Pablo Chocobar." >show notebook to bean You hold up the notebook for Jelle Bean to see. "It looks like Jimmy Piņata owed someone money. I reckon that someone was you." Jelle Bean takes the book and gives it a cursory flip through. "These are just scribbled notes," he says, handing it back. "They could be tracking savings, investments. It's hardly solid bookkeeping. What would have driven the victim to borrow money?" >i You are carrying: a notebook a long skewer a piece of taffy some fishing boat keys a tyre iron a jiffy bag (open) some drug balloons a leather binder a roll of cash a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a crumpled hat a blue crystal a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) >show balloons to bean (first taking the drug balloons) You hold the drug balloons up in front of Jelle Bean's face. "It's pretty obvious Jimmy Piņata was a drug mule. A lot of money to be had there for someone with a head for business." "And?" Jelle Bean shrugs. "I'm no businessman. Like I said. I'm an accountant. You want to maximise your tax deductions? I'm your guy. You want to move a load of drugs? Go ask Pablo Chocobar." >show cash to bean Jelle Bean speaks carefully: "You have not established that I had any motive for this crime. This is circumstantial evidence at best." >show binder to bean Jelle Bean regards the leather binder impassively. >show pipe to bean You show Jelle Bean the glass pipe. "Jimmy Piņata seems to have become hooked on the product he was smuggling. And I don't imagine he would have wanted to short change the people he was smuggling it for." "Alright." Jelle Bean shrugs. "Let's suppose that's true. What does any of this have to do with me? I couldn't have committed the murder: I've been elbow-deep in Don Toblerone's accounts all night." >show cash to bean You show Jelle Bean the roll of cash. "This was in the pocket of a hitman who attacked me earlier tonight. Quite a distinctive elastic band, don't you think?" Jelle Bean's eyes widen. "How did-" He pauses to compose himself. "You cannot prove that came from this office. In fact, should anybody audit Don Toblerone's accounts, they would find them in perfect order." "No," you agree. "I expect you squeezed Jimmy Piņata for all that he was worth, and I imagine that when the day finally came that he couldn't pay his debt you hired his killer with his own money. No paper trail." "A compelling story," Jelle Bean sneers. "Throw in a couple of steamy encounters and we could sell it in this very establishment. But you have to ask yourself: is it enough for the cops to make an arrest?" (yes/no) yes "I think so," you say. You begin to walk out of the office - back towards Officer Bagel, waiting at the garage. As you reach the door, you turn for one last word. "At the very least, I imagine it'll attract enough attention that you can't prey on anyone else the same way. *** THE END - You made 1 false accusation. *** Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, QUIT or UNDO the last command? > undo Back Room [Previous turn undone.] >* Oops, thought I kinda had it there lol You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >* maybe it is hunk That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >w You can't go that way. >s Adult Bookstore Wow. It's, uh, porny in here. There are shelves and shelves of the stuff. You'd say they've got quite a range of books, but they really have just one type of books. The bookstore entrance is to the south, and there's an nightclub emergency exit to the west that leads straight out into the alley. There's also a door to the north leading to a back room. You can see Jawbreaker here. >w (first opening the bookstore emergency exit) You push your way out into the alley. The emergency exit shuts behind you with a loud click. Alley A dim, dank, narrow pathway between the adult bookstore and Candy Kane's Club. Some dumpsters stand against a wall. There is a distinctive sticky stain on the concrete here. The alley is a dead end to the north, opening onto the street to the south: to the southwest is Demerara Street, and to the southeast is Demerara and Caster. Emergency exits from the club and bookstore open onto the alley from the west and east respectively. >w (first opening the nightclub emergency exit) There's no handle on the outside. >sw Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >n Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Big Hunk is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. Big Hunk quietly surveys the scene. >accuse hunk "Show me something that proves I had a motive." Candy Kane clumsily muddles mint and lime at the bottom of a mojito glass. >show crystal to hunk "I know you take issue with people doing drugs in the nightclub." You hold up the blue crystal. "This was found at the crime scene. It was obviously Jimmy's." Big Hunk snorts derisively. "Yeah, I take issue with people doing drugs in the nightclub. Outside it too. That junk's the reason this whole city is circling the drain. But if I was going to resort to murder to tackle the problem, why would I start with Jimmy Piņata? Why him and not whoever's snorting sherbet in the toilets right this minute? There's always someone." >show notebook to hunk Big Hunk regards the notebook impassively. Big Hunk raises a fingerless slab of nougat to his head and struggles to adjust his earpiece. Candy Kane stiffly bops her head along to the music. >show balloons to hunk "I found these in the abandoned store." You hold up the drug balloons. "Jimmy Piņata wasn't just doing drugs. Wasn't just selling them. He was smuggling them. that's's why you would want to target him." "Alright," concedes Big Hunk. "That kinda makes sense. But I was the one who called in the tip. Why would I do that if I was the killer?" >* typo That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >i You are carrying: some drug balloons a notebook a long skewer a piece of taffy some fishing boat keys a tyre iron a jiffy bag (open but empty) a leather binder a roll of cash a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a crumpled hat a blue crystal a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) Big Hunk quietly surveys the scene. >* lol yes reasonable point That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >* at least I can't come up with anything That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >* maybe jawbreaker, which is how Hunk knew? You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >e (first opening the nightclub emergency exit) You push your way out into the alley. The emergency exit shuts behind you with a loud click. Alley A dim, dank, narrow pathway between the adult bookstore and Candy Kane's Club. Some dumpsters stand against a wall. There is a distinctive sticky stain on the concrete here. The alley is a dead end to the north, opening onto the street to the south: to the southwest is Demerara Street, and to the southeast is Demerara and Caster. Emergency exits from the club and bookstore open onto the alley from the west and east respectively. >se Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >n Adult Bookstore Wow. It's, uh, porny in here. There are shelves and shelves of the stuff. You'd say they've got quite a range of books, but they really have just one type of books. The bookstore entrance is to the south, and there's an nightclub emergency exit to the west that leads straight out into the alley. There's also a door to the north leading to a back room. You can see Jawbreaker here. Jawbreaker makes a sort of shoulder motion that suggests a fist punching a palm. It would be far more intimidating if he had fists or palms. Or any arms at all, for that matter. >accuse jawbreaker "I think you whacked Jimmy Piņata," you say to Jawbreaker. Jawbreaker's expression hardens: something you'd previously thought impossible. "The Don don't like me talkin' about who I've whacked." >show crystal (to Jawbreaker) You hold the blue crystal up for Jawbreaker to see. "That's a blue crystal," says Jawbreaker. He stares at you dimly. "Did I get it? Did I do a evidence?" >show iron (to Jawbreaker) You hold the tyre iron up for Jawbreaker to see. "That's a tyre iron," says Jawbreaker. He stares at you dimly. "Did I get it? Did I do a evidence?" >show notebook (to Jawbreaker) You hold the notebook up for Jawbreaker to see. "That's a notebook," says Jawbreaker. He stares at you dimly. "Did I get it? Did I do a evidence?" Jawbreaker projects a gob of syrup into a nearby spittoon. >* Seems like it was the hitman who actually did the deed, though, so weird to call in the hit if it was JAwbreaker You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >* Maybe the father? Battenberg seems unlikely. Or Kit Kat? That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >s Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >w Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >w Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Battenberg and a phone booth here. >w There's nothing relevant to your investigation in that direction. >s Church of the Immaculate Confection A small church lined with pews. A few faithful sit upon them, heads bowed in prayer. A homeless halva sits near the back, head bowed in sleep. At the far end of the church stands the great altar, and beyond that a portrait of Pope Pontefract on the back wall. A small spiral staircase leads up to the Church Tower. The church opens onto the street to the north. You can see Father Wafer and a confessional (closed) here. >accuse wafer "I think you whacked Jimmy Piņata," you say to Father Wafer. "Me???" Father Wafer looks around the church, wary that one of his flock might have heard. "I couldn't... I could never... I'm a man of the cloth! What reason could you possibly have to think that anyone from the church would be mixed up in...this?" Father Wafer straightens the portrait of Pope Pontefract ever so slightly. >show binder to wafer Sticky pink tears well in the corners of Father Wafer's eyes. "Oh, please... Please... Yes, perhaps the church was in a difficult financial position - but I solved it! The matter is resolved. And in any case, I don't see why that little...issue...links me to this vile murder! How would I have stood to benefit from that Piņata's death?" >i You are carrying: some drug balloons a notebook a long skewer a piece of taffy some fishing boat keys a tyre iron a jiffy bag (open but empty) a leather binder a roll of cash a glass pipe a rucksack (open) a butane lighter a crumpled hat a blue crystal a fedora (being worn) a trench coat (being worn) hi top trainers (being worn) a watch (being worn) Father Wafer rubs at a discoloured patch on the surface of the altar. >show ballons to wafer You can't see any such thing. >show ballon to wafer You can't see any such thing. >show balloon to wafer You show the drug balloons to Father Wafer. "Jimmy Piņata was smuggling blue crystal. A potent drug - worth a fortune." "And you think I..." Father Wafer pauses to cross himself "...smashed open his body to take it?" "You did admit to being in financial difficulty," you press. "And I told you I solved it!" Father Wafer turns away - from you, and from the portrait of Pope Ponterfact on the wall behind the altar. "I...borrowed money. From someone I'd rather not be associated with. But I will pay it back in time, and that will be the end of it." >* Maybe it's just the obvious one of the Don? That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >n Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Battenberg and a phone booth here. Battenberg suddenly doubles over, coughing uncontrollably. >e Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >n Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Big Hunk is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. >n washroom The ladies' here is surprisingly clean and well maintained, though one of the sinks doesn't quite match the style of the others. Other than that, there's not much of note: just a row of stalls and a couple of hand dryers. >w You can't go that way. >s Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Big Hunk is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. Big Hunk raises a fingerless slab of nougat to his head and struggles to adjust his earpiece. >w You show your hand stamp to Big Hunk. VIP Room A swanky private space for the upper-crust visitors to Candy Kane's Club. There's a swanky glass table in the centre, with an ornate bowl of taffy sitting on it. The rest of the club lies through the door to the east. You can see Don Toblerone and Mayor Angue here. Mayor Angue brushes a fragment of sugar from his clothes. >* "washroom" not capitalized btw That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >accuse don "I think you whacked Jimmy Piņata," you say to Don Toblerone. "You've just been itching for a chance to pin some kind of crime on me, haven't you Miss Gumshoe?" Don Toblerone smiles, ever so faintly. "It must be almost irresistable. The prospect of unmasking one of the city's most upstanding citizens as some shadowy mob boss." Suddenly, his smile grows cruel. "But I think the more likely narrative for the papers to latch onto is that of the slimy little muckraker slandering a great man. Unless, of course, you can produce some very convincing evidence." >show balloons to don "Jimmy Piņata appears to have been smuggling blue crystal," you explain. Don Toblerone recoils from the handful of drug-stuffed condoms you're brandishing at him. "A dangerous line of work, I would imagine. Why would I have anything to do with it?" "To eliminate your competition," you say with confidence. "Competition with what?" Don Toblerone retorts. "If you had any evidence that I was doing anything illegal, you would have used it years ago." >show crystal to don "This blue crystal was found at the crime scene." "Then perhaps it was a drug deal gone bad." Don Toblerone shrugs. "I can only speculate, of course. I have no involvement in such things." Don Toblerone puts a chocolate orange wedge in his mouth and makes mock-threatening noises for comedic effect. Mayor Angue pops a piece of taffy into his mouth and savours it. >show cash to don The moment he sees the roll of cash, Don Toblerone's eyes widen. "That's- Where did that come from?" "It was in the pocket of a hitman sent to kill me," you answer plainly. Don Toblerone is silent for a moment. "If this is to turn into a court case, I will reserve any comments for the court," he says at last. This catches you by surprise. If the Don had arranged the hit, you have no doubt he would also have arranged an air-tight alibi and a cutting jibe. This silence, this sudden defensiveness, suggests that he did not. He was not prepared for this turn of events and, it transpires, neither were you. >* Yeah really seems like Bean? I dunno That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >* Maybe just Battenberg? That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >s You can't go that way. Don Toblerone mutters something about this, the day of his daughter's wedding. Mayor Angue nods his head to the music. >* Oh wait, was the "false accusation" indicating that I'd started the process with Hunk? You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >* lol That's neither a verb I recognise nor a keyword you can use right now. >s You can't go that way. >s You can't go that way. Mayor Angue pops a piece of taffy into his mouth and savours it. >w You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. >s You can't go that way. Don Toblerone puts a chocolate orange wedge in his mouth and makes mock-threatening noises for comedic effect. >e Candy Kane's Club This place is... "seedy" is probably a little charitable. It's got some definite strip club vibes, despite the chic branding outside. Some jelly babes jiggle on a large stage at the back of the room, while Candy Kane herself works the bar. Various customers sit at tables nearby in various stages of intoxication. A crowd of dancers bobs up and down enthusiastically on a dance floor closer to the stage. The exit to Demerara Street lies to the south, a door marked "VIP Lounge" guarded by Big Hunk is to the west, and the washroom is to the north (in case you need to go). There's a small nightclub emergency exit leading to the alley to the east. Big Hunk slaps his massive appendages together aggressively. Candy Kane struggles to skewer a cocktail onion with her sugar-stick arms. >s Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >w Demerara and Maple An unassuming corner on an unassuming street. To the east is Demerara Street: it's much livelier. To the west is little more than a stretch of run-down private residences. An apartment building of much the same sort stands to the north. To the south is the Church of the Immaculate Confection, its whitewashed facade standing in sharp contrast to the crumbling row of abandoned storefronts surrounding it. You can see a Sweetwood Bounder (closed), Battenberg and a phone booth here. >accuse battengerb You can't see any such thing. >accuse battenberg "I think you whacked Jimmy Piņata," you say to Battenberg. Battenberg stares at you in shock. Then her mouth flattens into a hard, cakey line. "I thought we might be able to help each other get to the bottom of this. But if you're just looking for an easy scapegoat, I've got no reason to be here." Without another word, she jumps back into the Sweetwood Bounder and drives away. >e Demerara Street Neon lights sparkle in the glucose haze. Brightest is the entrance to Candy Kane's Club to the north, a short queue of patrons waiting to enter. Kit Kat guards the door, taking frequent appreciative drags on her candy cigarette. To the northeast is an alley between Candy Kane's and the next business over: a rather disreputable-looking bookstore on the corner of Demerara and Caster, to the east. To the west lies the corner of Demerara and Maple. To the south is an abandoned store, its broken door providing easy access to the ruined interior. You can see a newspaper vending box here. >e Demerara and Caster An unremarkable stretch of street. To the north is an adult bookstore, open 24 hours. To the northwest is an alley between the bookstore and Candy Kane's club. To the west is Demerara Street. To the south there are only abandoned storefronts, and to the east there is nothing but the freeway. >e Venturing onto the freeway on foot would be incredibly dangerous. >n Adult Bookstore Wow. It's, uh, porny in here. There are shelves and shelves of the stuff. You'd say they've got quite a range of books, but they really have just one type of books. The bookstore entrance is to the south, and there's an nightclub emergency exit to the west that leads straight out into the alley. There's also a door to the north leading to a back room. You can see Jawbreaker here. Jawbreaker attempts to scratch his cheek against his massive shoulder. >n Back Room This place is, surprisingly, much less gross than the area of the adult bookstore that's open to the public just to the south. It's basically just a small, sparsely furnished office. On the desk are an ashtray and a whisky tumbler (in which are some elastic bands). You can also see a swivel chair (in which is Jelle Bean) and a stack of magazines here. >accuse bean "I don't see what could possibly link me to the murder. How could I have committed it when I've been right here all night?" >show cash (to Jelle Bean) You show Jelle Bean the roll of cash. "This was in the pocket of a hitman who attacked me earlier tonight. Quite a distinctive elastic band, don't you think?" Jelle Bean's eyes widen. "How did-" He pauses to compose himself. "You cannot prove that came from this office. In fact, should anybody audit Don Toblerone's accounts, they would find them in perfect order." "No," you agree. "I expect you squeezed Jimmy Piņata for all that he was worth, and I imagine that when the day finally came that he couldn't pay his debt you hired his killer with his own money. No paper trail." "A compelling story," Jelle Bean sneers. "Throw in a couple of steamy encounters and we could sell it in this very establishment. But you have to ask yourself: is it enough for the cops to make an arrest?" (yes/no) yes "I think so," you say. You begin to walk out of the office - back towards Officer Bagel, waiting at the garage. As you reach the door, you turn for one last word. "At the very least, I imagine it'll attract enough attention that you can't prey on anyone else the same way. *** THE END - You made 5 false accusations. *** Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, QUIT or UNDO the last command? >