Start of a transcript of The Legend of Horse Girl An Interactive Fiction by Bitter Karella Release 1 / Serial number 220307 / Inform 7 build 6M62 (I6/v6.33 lib 6/12N) Identification number: //1673EC8A-91D4-41E2-97DB-22A4AC2B9AF9// Interpreter version 1.3.5 / VM 3.1.2 / Library serial number 080126 Standard Rules version 3/120430 by Graham Nelson >i You are carrying: a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >x poncho It's a brown poncho with white trim; you think the patterns are of Navajo design. "Special today on our patent-pending tonics!" cries Hornswaggle "One for the price of two! No shoving, there's plenty for everyone!" >* ha, good joke! You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >x broadsheet It's a hectographed broadsheet with a badly reproduced daguerreotype of the judge, not that you'd need a picture to know his ugly face. It reads: "HUGE $$$ BOUNTY!!! Be it known that a certain person or persons who for propriety's sake shall remain anonymous are now offering a BIG REWARD for the capture, dead or alive, of that most notorious scalawag, bank robber, stage coach bandit, cattle rustler, murderer, claim jumper and horse thief Lazarus Dives (formerly of the Dives Gang, now "reformed"). Inquire for more information at the Cantina de La Muerte, Santa Diablo, Tx." >x locket It's a locket containing a tiny daguerreotype of your beloved chestnut mare, Sugar & Sache. You and Sugar & Sache used to be inseperable, riding together across the lonesome praries of the open west... until that sidewinder Lazarus Dives stole her away! "Yes, we have no bezoars!" says Hornswaggle. "They're just too popular! But we've got everything else you could ask for!" >* ah motivation/backstory That's not a verb I recognise. >open it It isn't something you can open. "Hornswaggle's cure-alls, made with genuine Santa Diablo snake oil!" cries Hornswaggle, waving his arms. "Effective remedy for mumps, measles, ennui, malaise, the intangible squirms, and juggler's despair!" >x stetson This Stetson hat is a classic western look. It's how you know you're a real bad bandito. "Hornswaggle's patented remedies! Good for what ails you!" cries Hornswaggle, even though you're the only person present. "Step right up! Don't be shy!" >x jeans Hard wearing dungerees perfect for withstanding the punishment that is your aimless western wandering. >x me It's you, a wandering stranger without a name, a red-headed, saw-toothed mysterious taciturn drifter whom the townsfolk of various high plains flyspecks know only as The Horse Girl. With your Stetson hat and raggedy poncho, you look every inch the desperado. If you had your druthers, you'd be away from these suffocating cities and out riding across the open praries... but unfortunately you don't have a horse. Anymore. >about That's not a verb I recognise. >help Quick Help Objects: Try LOOK AT..., SPEAK TO..., TAKE..., DROP..., OPEN..., GIVE... TO..., USE... ON/WITH... Talk to: Most characters in the game will have something to say, useful or not. You can speak to characters by typing TALK TO or ASK (CHARACTER) ABOUT (THING). Some puzzles will require you to ASK characters about things to prompt them to do things! Inventory: See which items you are carrying by typing I, INV or INVENTORY. Moving around: Press the compass buttons, or type GO NORTH, SOUTH, E, GO TO... This game understands many verbs, but the game can be finished using only the following commands: Look at, Eat, Drink, Drop, Take, Ride, Use, Play, Milk, Talk to, Open, Hang, Pour, Search, Ask XX about XX, Put XX in XX, Give XX to XX, Rub XX on XX, Dig XX with XX, Saw XX with XX, Reflect XX with XX, Slice XX with XX, Light XX with XX. Special thanks to Rovarsson, Lance Campbell, J.J. Guest, Olaf Nowacki, Grueslayer, Cacheblaster, Xin Jing Meng, Widow Dido, and Bitterlyindifferent for playtesting! >* helpful That's not a verb I recognise. >x fountain It's a dry stone basin, probably used for watering horses in better times. >l Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see a sandwich board and Ulysses P Hornswaggle here. "Special today on our patent-pending tonics!" cries Hornswaggle "One for the price of two! No shoving, there's plenty for everyone!" >x wagon A brightly-painted caravan wagon. Its sign proclaims "Offical Licensed Santa Diablo Snake Oil Distributor!!" "Hornswaggle's cure-alls, made with genuine Santa Diablo snake oil!" cries Hornswaggle, waving his arms. "Effective remedy for mumps, measles, ennui, malaise, the intangible squirms, and juggler's despair!" >listen >* oops! That's not a verb I recognise. >x board It says "Hornswaggle's Amazing Patent Medicines! Tinctures, Brines & Unguents! Offical Licensed Santa Diablo Snake Oil and Horse Paste Distributor!! Sorry, bezoars out of stock!!" >take it You don't want that. >wear it (first taking the sandwich board) You don't want that. "Tinctures! Brines! Unguents of all kinds!" shouts Hornswaggle, waving his arms dramatically. "I've got everything and anything you need to live a life of perfect health!" >remove hat (the stetson hat) You wouldn't be caught dead without your iconic hat. >remove jeans That would be indecent. >remove poncho No, you'd rather wear it. >* fair That's not a verb I recognise. > I beg your pardon? >l Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see a sandwich board and Ulysses P Hornswaggle here. >x ulysses Ulysses P. Hornswaggle is a short plump little man wearing a dapper black suit and a stovepipe hat that's substancially taller than he is. His bushy handlebar mustache twitches above a cheerful grin almost too wide for his face. >* Substancially -> substantially That's not a verb I recognise. >x hat (the stetson hat) This Stetson hat is a classic western look. It's how you know you're a real bad bandito. >x stovepipe It's taller than the man wearing it. >take it You don't want that. "Special today on our patent-pending tonics!" cries Hornswaggle "One for the price of two! No shoving, there's plenty for everyone!" >talk to him "Ah! Now you look like a lady with a discerning eye!" says the small man, tipping his stovepipe hat. "I've got tinctures, brines, unguents and tonics -- everything that a young lady could possibly need for her health and well-being! Don't gamble with your health, friend; try some of my patent-pending medicinal miracles and you'll always feel hale and hearty! I've got the good for what ails you! Just ask for me by name, Ulysses P. Hornswaggle!" >ask for tonic You can't see any such thing. >ask him for tonic You can't see any such thing. >ask for ulysses You can't see any such thing. >ask ulysses about ulysses "So what's your deal, friend?" you say. "That's suit's way too nice to be local. What brings you here to Santa Diablo?" "Oh, good eye, good eye!" says Hornswaggle cheerfully. "Truthfully, I'm a wanderer much like yourself... I go where I'm needed! Just so happens that the good people of Santa Diablo have a powerful need for healthful tonics and brews. Why, my good lady, did you know that there was a terrible outbreak of the intangible squirms just last year? And over eight reported cases of buzzard craw fever? It's never been more clear to me that a town was ever in such dire need of my marvelous medicines to restore vigor and stamina!" He lowers his voice but his smile remains. "Plus, of course, I just like to keep an eye on my investments." >ask ulysses about tonics "It's the only thing that I drink!" says Hornswaggle. "My very own patent-pending miracle elixir, Hornswaggle's Healing Tonic! Made with 100% pure unadulterated virgin snake oil! It's good for whooping cough, consumption, the flux, the intangible squirms, buzzard craw fever, and even juggler's despair! You don't know what good health feels like til you've tried it!" >ask ulysses about investments "What sorta investments are you talking about, Hornswaggle?" you ask, narrowing your eyes. You don't entirely trust this guy; his sort is always up to something shady. "What pie you got your finger in?" "Why nothing sinister as all that!" says Hornswaggle, beaming. "I'm just a simple peddler of tonics and tinctures for good health! Course, seeing as the active ingredient in all good medicine is snake oil and the man who controls the entire snake oil supply in the southwestern territories is right here in Santa Diablo... well, seems like a natural place to set up shop!" >ask ulysses about oil "I saw all them snake oil derricks out in the desert as I was making my way into town," you say. "Looks like business is good for whoever owns all the snake oil rights in these parts." "Oh indeed, indeed!" says Hornswaggle, smiling widely. "That would be the Judge Lazarus Dives, of course. Shrewd investor, that man! He could see that the real wealth of Texas was in snake oil -- why, they use it in just about everything these days and the judge was keen to snap up all the rights early on! Now he's a very wealthy man. And as an offical distributor of Judge Dives" Old Fashioned Santa Diablo Snake Oil, I can see it's certainly the best! I use it in ALL my patent medicines!" "Tinctures! Brines! Unguents of all kinds!" shouts Hornswaggle, waving his arms dramatically. "I've got everything and anything you need to live a life of perfect health!" >* Dives' Old Fashioned etc. needs a ['] That's not a verb I recognise. >ask ulysses about judge "What can you tell me about Dives?" you say. "Oh Judge Lazarus Dives? I understand he was quite the rascal in his younger days, a regular rough-riding outlaw, you might say! The Dives gang robbed stage coaches and banks all across the state and Johnny Law just couldn't catch them! They were so notorious that they said Dives himself sold his soul to the devil in exchange for immortality... so law man could shoot him down and no noose could hang him!" "Course he's cleaned up his act now that he's a responsible legitimate businessman! Why, we've even had a few business dealings together, you might say! Reached a few mutually beneficial arrangements, you might say! Ha ha! Say, you wouldn't be here to make any trouble for the judge, would you?" Hornswaggle looks you up and down as if seeing you for the first time. His mustache twitches. "Spose you could say I am," you say. "Ha! What a kidder you are!" laughs Hornswaggle. "A nice gal like you? Making trouble for the judge? Ha ha! Now that's a great gag!" "Yes, we have no bezoars!" says Hornswaggle. "They're just too popular! But we've got everything else you could ask for!" >i You are carrying: a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >in "Interested in inspecting the merchandise?" says Hornswaggle brightly. He throws open the wagon door and ushers you inside. "Course ya are! C'mon, I'll take you inside! And if you got any questions about my medicines, ask away! I'm here to help!" Wagon The inside of the medicine wagon is a cramped space lined with shelves and cabinets, all filled with bottles of suspicious liquids and odd powders. The ceiling is painted with a star chart showing unfamiliar constellations and a large vat at the western end of the room bubbles with a thick, foul-smelling slurry. You can go OUT to the plaza. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle, a star chart, a vat (in which is a homunculus) and an empty tray here. >x shelves They're full of bottles. "Special today on our patent-pending tonics!" cries Hornswaggle "One for the price of two! No shoving, there's plenty for everyone!" >x bottles The bottles are full of suspicious liquids and odd powders. "Hornswaggle's cure-alls, made with genuine Santa Diablo snake oil!" cries Hornswaggle, waving his arms. "Effective remedy for mumps, measles, ennui, malaise, the intangible squirms, and juggler's despair!" >take bottle You can't see any such thing. >take bottles You don't want that. >x chart A large poster mural depicting the full moon and starry night sky; the constellations are unfamiliar to you. "Yes, we have no bezoars!" says Hornswaggle. "They're just too popular! But we've got everything else you could ask for!" >take chart You pry the star chart down from the ceiling with your fingers and roll it up. "You go right ahead, friend," says Ulysses P Hornswaggle. "That chart was outta date anyway. Got a new one coming in soon, with all the new constellations!" >* ha! That's not a verb I recognise. >x tray It's an empty tray that says "BEZOARS!!! GOOD FOR POISON!!!! 10 cents each!!!" Looks like they're sold out, though. "Tinctures! Brines! Unguents of all kinds!" shouts Hornswaggle, waving his arms dramatically. "I've got everything and anything you need to live a life of perfect health!" >ask ulysses about bezoar "Sorry, friend, I'm afraid we're all out of bezoars! You know, those are pretty popular!" "What do they do?" you ask. "And, uh, what are they?" "It's a big glob of indigestible schmutz that accumulates in an animal's digestive tract," says Hornswaggle. "I know it sounds disgusting, friend, but it's an amazing poison remedy! You swallow it down and you're impervious to poison!" "What, like snake bites?" "I said poison, my friend," says Hornswaggle. "Not venom. There's a difference." >ask ulysses about venom "Well, I wouldn't know anything about that, friend! But if you happen to have any questions about what my patent-pending Hornswaggle's Healing Tonic (Made with 100% REAL snake oil!) can do for your health, why, maybe I can answer that with a little more alacrity!" >x vat A large vat bubbles with a thick, foul-smelling slurry. In the vat is a homunculus. >ask him about chart "Oh that old thing?" says Hornswaggle. "Now a man of science such as myself is of course very concerned with the alignment of the stars, seeing as how their aura and gravity can affect the humors of us folk here on earth. This one's a bit outta date, I'm afraid. There's a whole new crop of constellations invented just last month in the big universities back east." >ask him about vat "Ah, I see you've noticed my latest project! Incredible, isn't it? I'm growing what the great master alchemist Paracelsus called a Lil' Varmint! It's artificial life, a mandrake root incubated in a vat of horse manure and nourished quarterly with milk in which three bats have been drowned. When it's complete, it'll be able to do anything that a human could do -- eat, breathe, walk, even talk!" Cute >x slurry A large vat bubbles with a thick, foul-smelling slurry. In the vat is a homunculus. >x homonculus You can't see any such thing. >x homunculus The homunculus is a tiny anemic creature made of stringy roots vaguely in the shape of a human. It waves its spindly arms and legs pathetically. >take it You don't want that. >say hello to homunculus There is no reply. >touch it You feel nothing unexpected. >ask ulysses about homunculus "Ah, I see you've noticed my latest project! Incredible, isn't it? I'm growing what the great master alchemist Paracelsus called a Lil' Varmint! It's artificial life, a mandrake root incubated in a vat of horse manure and nourished quarterly with milk in which three bats have been drowned. When it's ready to harvest, it'll be able to do anything that a human could do -- eat, breathe, walk, even talk!" "Hornswaggle's cure-alls, made with genuine Santa Diablo snake oil!" cries Hornswaggle, waving his arms. "Effective remedy for mumps, measles, ennui, malaise, the intangible squirms, and juggler's despair!" >harvest homunculus That's not a verb I recognise. >out "Had enough, friend?" says Hornswaggle. "Fair enough! Come back anytime!" He throws open the wagon door and hops out. Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >e Cantina The jangled tinny sounds of the pianola mingle with the grumbles and shouts of unruly patrons as you step through the batwing doors; the thick miasma of tobacco smoke nearly chokes you. A chalk menu behind the bar titled "PICK YER POISON" lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. An ornery gaggle of roughnecks and ne'er-do-wells slump against the bar and, at a table in the far corner, you see a group of gamblers deeply immersed in a card game. The walls are covered in ornate cuckoo clocks, each one set to a different time. To your surprise, you notice a number of mangy coyotes skulking around the room, each carefully balancing a platter full of whiskey shots on its head. Oh. Apparently they're the servers? You can go WEST to the plaza. You can go UP to a private room. You can see a spitoon and La Muerte here. A serving coyote brushes past you, raising its hackles and growling as it bumps you. >x coyotes In your experience, coyotes are mangy ornery varmints and these are no exception. They growl menacingly whenever you get too close. >pet coyotes They snarl at you when you get too close. They don't seem to appreciate the attention. >x shots You can't see any such thing. >x whiskey The coyotes are serving them. >take whisket You can't see any such thing. >take whiskey You'd need to pay for those. >buy whiskey "Sorry, Senorita," says La Muerte. "You're too young for that; it's just not your time yet." >l Cantina The jangled tinny sounds of the pianola mingle with the grumbles and shouts of unruly patrons as you step through the batwing doors; the thick miasma of tobacco smoke nearly chokes you. A chalk menu behind the bar titled "PICK YER POISON" lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. An ornery gaggle of roughnecks and ne'er-do-wells slump against the bar and, at a table in the far corner, you see a group of gamblers deeply immersed in a card game. The walls are covered in ornate cuckoo clocks, each one set to a different time. To your surprise, you notice a number of mangy coyotes skulking around the room, each carefully balancing a platter full of whiskey shots on its head. Oh. Apparently they're the servers? You can go WEST to the plaza. You can go UP to a private room. You can see a spitoon and La Muerte here. >x smoke It's a thick choking miasma. >x menu A chalk menu behind the bar lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. >x varnish You can't see any such thing. >x gamblers A bunch of surly-looking characters. You'd best leave them alone. They appear to be gambling with Loteria cards. >x cards You watch the gamblers throw down cards with crude images of "La Escalera," "La Estrella," or "La Araņa" for several minutes but you're still no closer to understanding the rules of this game. The pianola pauses briefly as the song comes to a close before it begins again. >x ne'er You can't see any such thing. >x roughnecks They're steadfastly ignoring you and their demeanor encourages you to do the same. >x clocks Clocks of every make and size adorn the walls, each ominously ticking away. Their combined ticking is almost as loud as the pianola music. >x la Standing behind the bar is a tall slender woman with hands like enormous spiders. La Muerte wears a black traje de flamenca embroidered with blood red roses, her jet black hair tied back into a severe bun under a towering jeweled peineta. Her face is painted with red and white whorls to resemble a sugarskull calaca. She wears a large diamondback rattlesnake draped over her slim shoulders as if it were a feather boa. Her eyes are yellow. >s snake I only understood you as far as wanting to (go) s. >x snake It hisses and rattles its tail, flexing its mighty coils when you get too close. >take it You don't want that. >pet it It tenses and rattles its tail. Probably best to leave it alone. A serving coyote brushes past you, raising its hackles and growling as it bumps you. >talk to la "Si?" La Muerte regards you with a bemused expression. "You must be the latest gunslinger to pass though town. Hmm, you're a little earlier than expected, but that's alright. Welcome to Cantina de la Muerte." >talk to la "Hola, senorita," says La Muerte. "How can I help you?" >talk to la "Hola, senorita," says La Muerte. "How can I help you?" >give broadsheet to la La Muerte lowers her voice and motions you in close. "Ah, Senorita, you've heard, eh? Yes, I put that bounty on the judge's head. Thanks to that pendejo Hornswaggle, I've been cheated out of what's rightfully mine and I intend to get it back. If you think you're the one to bring Lazarus Dives to justice, I'll gladly pay the full reward. But please, you must be discrete. The judge is operating under the protection of the law these days, so I can't advertise my involvement." La Muerte rubs a soggy rag over the countertop, soaking up spilled whiskey. >give broadsheet to la La Muerte lowers her voice and motions you in close. "Ah, Senorita, you've heard, eh? Yes, I put that bounty on the judge's head. Thanks to that pendejo Hornswaggle, I've been cheated out of what's rightfully mine and I intend to get it back. If you think you're the one to bring Lazarus Dives to justice, I'll gladly pay the full reward. But please, you must be discrete. The judge is operating under the protection of the law these days, so I can't advertise my involvement." >ask la about herself La Muerte smiles wanly and strokes her diamondback rattlesnake between the eyes; you can see it flex its coils in response. "Me? I'm just your friendly hostess. You might say I inherited the family business," she says. "The Muerte family has operated this little watering station for generations. Every traveler through the desert eventually passes through here. Who can resist a little refreshment in this vale of tears?" The pianola pauses briefly as the song comes to a close before it begins again. >ask la about snake "So is that snake a pet or a fashion accessory?" you ask. "Is it venomous?" "Oh, Virgil here? He's harmless. His venom dried up long ago." A sly smile tugs at the painted corners of La Muerte's mouth. "He's more of psychopomp, really." "Uh... what's that mean?" "Oh, nothing. Don't worry about." >ask la about judge "I'm here to cause some trouble," you say, tilting the brim of your Stetson hat. "What can you tell me about Lazarus Dives?" "The judge?" She spits on the ground and crosses herself. "That monster! He's cheated me out of what's rightfully mine, but I mean to see justice done! If only there were some brave young gunslinger who wasn't afraid to face him down..." >ask la about ulysses "Hornswaggle!" La Muerte recoils at the name. She spits on the floor and crosses herself. "I wish to have nothing to do with that man! A cheat and a pendejo, that's what he is! You would be best to maintain your distance, gringa, no good can come of associating with him! Those tinctures of his... why, they unnaturally prolong life! Dios Mio, who does he think he is to thwart the will of the angels? A man must go when it is his time." >u Private Room A tastefully decorated private room where patrons who want to pay extra can retire to receive extra services. A woman sits in a claw-foot bathtub, everything but her face obscured by mountains of soap bubbles. You can go DOWN to the cantina. You can see a claw-foot bathtub, a sea sponge and Angelhair Horchata here. Angelhair Horchata lifts her left leg out of the tub and conspicuously soaps it up, drawing her hands over her smooth slippery flesh. >x tub A nice cleansing bath always makes you feel better. It seems to be doing wonders for Angelhair Horchata's disposition. Angelhair Horchata bobs in her tub. >x sponge It's a micronesian wool sponge, if you're not mistaken. You know that they're super absorbant because you once watched a kinetoscope show about how South Pacific pearl divers use them to drain the venom from sea snakes before they explore coral crevices. >take it You pocket the sea sponge. >x angel You can't see any such thing. >x angelhair A plump young woman with a conspicuously huge beehive of overly coifed red hair and a fashionably conspicuous mole on her cheek, Angelhair Horchata wears a welcoming smile and not much else. Angelhair Horchata lifts her left leg out of the tub and conspicuously soaps it up, drawing her hands over her smooth slippery flesh. >talk to her "Well hello there, tiger," purrs the woman, sloshing carefully in the tub so that none of her parts are exposed over the bubbles. "I'm Angelhair Horchata. You come to join little old me in the bath? I'm getting all pruney by my lonesome here!" "Ain't nothin' like a nice bath," says Angelhair Horchata, smiling mischieviously. "Cuz Lord knows I do get dirty!" >enter bath Despite how inviting it looks, you really don't have time for that now. >talk to her "Hmm, I'm just SO dirty! Tee hee hee!" giggles Angelhair Horchata. "Guess I better scrub myself like a good little girl, tee hee!" Angelhair Horchata lifts her left leg out of the tub and conspicuously soaps it up, drawing her hands over her smooth slippery flesh. >ask angelhair about soap She giggles and shimmies her shoulders. "I don't know anything about that! I'm just a silly girl, tee hee!" >ask angelhair about herself "Aw, sugar, why do ya wanna talk about me? Why don't we talk about you? I bet you're tired after all the yee hawing you've been up to. You oughta rest a spell an' let ol' Angelhair Horchata make ya feel at home!" >ask angelhair about judge Her eyes get big and she slides down in the tub. "He's evil! That man has ruined this town with his greed! You know they call him The Hangin' Judge because he was hanged twice but didn't die? It's true! That's why everyone's so scared of him! I know La Muerte hates him more than anything! She can't stand how he's stolen all the land around here... and he wants to tear down the cantina, too, so that he can drill for snake oil here too! Oh, he's awful! Without the cantina, where will I run my business?" She looks to be near tears at the thought. >ask angelhair about la She giggles and shimmies her shoulders. "I don't know anything about that! I'm just a silly girl, tee hee!" >ask angelhair about la muerte "She has a lot of men come through here," says Angelhair Horchata. "Gunslingers, roughnecks, drunks... all sorts of rotten sorts! But she and I... well, our businesses are different." >ask angelhair about ulysses "Oh I sometimes purchase certain, uh, ointments from him," she says, blushing. "But there's no reason for you to worry about that, honey." Angelhair Horchata bobs in her tub. >i You are carrying: a sea sponge a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >ask angelhair about sponge She giggles and shimmies her shoulders. "I don't know anything about that! I'm just a silly girl, tee hee!" "Y'all sure ya don't wanna join me fer a dip?" says Angelhair Horchata. "S'alright, suit yourself." >d Cantina The jangled tinny sounds of the pianola mingle with the grumbles and shouts of unruly patrons as you step through the batwing doors; the thick miasma of tobacco smoke nearly chokes you. A chalk menu behind the bar titled "PICK YER POISON" lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. An ornery gaggle of roughnecks and ne'er-do-wells slump against the bar and, at a table in the far corner, you see a group of gamblers deeply immersed in a card game. The walls are covered in ornate cuckoo clocks, each one set to a different time. To your surprise, you notice a number of mangy coyotes skulking around the room, each carefully balancing a platter full of whiskey shots on its head. Oh. Apparently they're the servers? You can go WEST to the plaza. You can go UP to a private room. You can see a spitoon and La Muerte here. >spit That's not a verb I recognise. >x spitoon The spitoon contains a thick black sludge of saliva and tobacco residue. The gamblers mumble amongst themselves, tossing chips into the pot as the next round of cards begins. >take it You take the spitoon. >w Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Yes, we have no bezoars!" says Hornswaggle. "They're just too popular! But we've got everything else you could ask for!" >* i'm not sure why I did that That's not a verb I recognise. >se Post Office No matter what, the mail must go through... that's the motto for the postal service, but it doesn't look like a whole lot of mail goes through this particular branch anymore. The lobby of the post office is separated from the work space by a high counter, behind which stands the postmaster. A metal telegram machine sits on the counter. You can go NORTHWEST to the plaza. You can see Postmaster Clem Bunions, a package (closed) and a telegram machine here. >x counter A counter separates the lobby from the work space. >x machine A metal telegram machine for sending and receiving messages in morse code. You've see these before; when a telegram comes over the wire, the little metal arm will move to tap it out. You once read a penny dreadful where a master criminal used mesmerism to send fraudulent telegrams by psychically moving the metal arm so that it tapped out the messages he desired; you don't have powers like that, but you reckon you could do something similar if you could make that arm move without touching it. "No time to jibber jabber, young lady, I gots mail to sort!" says the postmaster. >x clem Postmaster Clem Bunions is a thin stoop-shouldered man with a shiny bald head and a fussy little mustache. He wears a green celluloid banker's visor and is busily sorting stacks of letters. >x package A large package wrapped up in butcher paper and tied up with twine. The label says "To: Tex Arkham From: The Dusty Trails School of Singing Cowpoke Music." >take it "Hold on thar, little missy!" says the postmaster. "Y'all can't just waltz in here and take any old package that ain't addressed to ya! That ain't according to the postal code!" "C'mon," you say. "It's obvious this package has been here a while. No one's coming to claim it." "Even so, there's rules! I'm only allowed to relinquish this package to the address or his sworn designee! So that means unless I get a telegram from Tex Arkham saying you can take it, you can't take it!" >talk to clem "Well, what is it, don't hold up the line, little lady!" says the postmaster, throwing another letter into his pile. You look around. You're not sure what the rush is since you're clearly the only person here. "Time and the mail wait for no man!" The postmaster tosses one letter aside and picks up another, squinting at the address. >ask clem about tex "That's the addressee, so that's the only feller who can walk outta here with it," says the postmaster. "He'd better hurry, tho, it's been sittin' here a dog's age." "How do you know he hasn't abandoned it?" you ask. "That don't matter none!" says the postmaster. "His name's on the package. So either he picks it up or he telegrams in the name of his designated assignee. Otherwise, ain't no one getting it!" >ask clem about telegram "That's some new-fangled contraption," says the postmater. "I don't think it'll ever replace the mail, but guess them young faller like to use it." >ask clem about judge "They call him "The Hangin' Judge," on account of all the men he's sent to the gallows," says the postmaster. "Mostly men who owned snake oil claims round these parts. Pretty suspicious, if you ask me." He looks around furtively. "That ain't all, tho. They also call him "The Hangin' Judge" on account of the fact that he's been hanged twice... and still lived to tell about it! The law couldn't kill him... so they figured they'd make him a judge instead. Get him on their side, ya know? As a dedicated public servant, it makes me sick to see what he's done in that office." >ask clem about oil "No time to chat, sonny! This mail ain't gonna sort itself!" says the postmaster. >ask clem about le muerte "No time to chat, sonny! This mail ain't gonna sort itself!" says the postmaster. >ask clem about la "No time to chat, sonny! This mail ain't gonna sort itself!" says the postmaster. "Hmm, that'll go out with the next shipment," he mutters as he tosses another letter in his pile. >ask clem about la meurte "No time to chat, sonny! This mail ain't gonna sort itself!" says the postmaster. >ask clem about angelhair "That gal gets a lot of packages from France," says the postmaster. "Once, one of them was buzzing and we had to call in the marshal cuz we thought it might be a bomb. It wasn't a bomb." >l Post Office No matter what, the mail must go through... that's the motto for the postal service, but it doesn't look like a whole lot of mail goes through this particular branch anymore. The lobby of the post office is separated from the work space by a high counter, behind which stands the postmaster. A metal telegram machine sits on the counter. You can go NORTHWEST to the plaza. You can see Postmaster Clem Bunions, a package (closed) and a telegram machine here. >* LOL That's not a verb I recognise. >nw Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >s Mortuary The mortuary is a small somber office, tastefully decorated with garlands of black roses befitting its role in the community. Floor models of several different models of caskets are visible, as are several different models of urns. You can go NORTH to the plaza. You can see Wormfood here. >x roses Black roses. Fitting. >x models The models have fanciful names like "Abraham's Bosom" and "Silver Speedway," but that can't disguise the fact that they're all coffins. >x urns They look really nice, but that doesn't change the fact that they're gonna be filled with dead people's ashes. >x worm You can't see any such thing. >x wormfood Wormfood is a young native woman wearing a black bodice and black polonaise dress. Around her neck is a necklace of elk teeth and porcupine quills. >talk to her (Wormfood) "Oh hello! Welcome to the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary!" chirps Wormfood with the polished pleasantness of someone who's been in customer service for a long time. "Among my people, I am known as Wormfood and my only desire is to help you prepare for you final journey to the Happy Hunting Ground... so you can meet the Great Spirit in style! We offer two packages for the soon-to-be-deceased, our standard boot hill package and our platinum cursed native burial ground package!" >x necklace Wormfood's necklace made of porcupine quills and elk teeth. >ask about cursed You can't see any such thing. >ask wormfood about cursed "Sorry, I don't know anything about that!" says Wormfood with a shrug. >ask wormfood about package "Oh, which package are you inquiring about, madam? The boot hill package or the cursed native burial ground package?" asks Wormfood. >ask wormfood about boot hill "That's a really popular package in these parts," says Wormfood. "For our economically-minded clients, this package includes a simple but sturdy pine box and burial in the Santa Diablo boot hill. Six gaunt black-suited pallbearers come included at no extra fee, and, if you don't have a mourning widder of your own, we'll throw one in! If you're a law man, you get the choice of being buried either with your boots or your star." She pauses. "Seems like we've been getting A LOT of business since the judge took over." >ask wormfood about cursed native "Sorry, I don't know anything about that!" says Wormfood with a shrug. >ask wormfood about cursed native burial ground "Oh, that's for our high rollers!" says Wormfood. "If luxury is no expense, then you can get the platinum cursed burial ground package, where you'll get a fine oak box and a full 'Native American*' burial ceremony before you'll be planted into a cursed native burial ground. Hauntings and mysterious lights in the night are guaranteed!" * -- not an actual Native American ceremony >* LOL That's not a verb I recognise. >l Mortuary The mortuary is a small somber office, tastefully decorated with garlands of black roses befitting its role in the community. Floor models of several different models of caskets are visible, as are several different models of urns. You can go NORTH to the plaza. You can see Wormfood here. >ask wormfood about text "Sorry, I don't know anything about that!" says Wormfood with a shrug. >ask wormfood about tex "Sorry, I don't know anything about that!" says Wormfood with a shrug. >n Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >sw Laundry The Jade Monkey Laundry is crammed floor to ceiling with piles of folded sheets and clothes. There's barely enough room for the proprietor behind the counter. You can go NORTHEAST to the plaza. You can see Lucky Strike, an opium pipe, a newspaper and a vending machine here. "Far out, far out." says Lucky Strike to no one in particular. >x sheets People around here must go through a lot of laundry. >x clthes You can't see any such thing. >x clothes People around here must go through a lot of laundry. >x lucky strike Lucky Strike is a large fat man wearing a colorful robe, skullcap, and reflective Pince nez sunglasses. He's smoking an opium pipe. >talk to him "Hey, man, how are ya? Far out," says Lucky Strike, blowing a ring of smoke in the air. "Real far out." >ask him about tex "That's heavy stuff, man," says Lucky Strike, inhaling another hit from his hookah. "Real ponderous." >ask him about laundry "That's heavy stuff, man," says Lucky Strike, inhaling another hit from his hookah. "Real ponderous." >x pipe Lucky Strike puffs on a lit, long-stemmed opium pipe, a glowing-red wad of herbs smoldering in the bowl. It emits a pleasant herbal odor. "Man, you ever look at your hand, man?" says Lucky Strike, staring at the palm of his hand. "I mean, like, REALLY look at your hand?" >take pipe "Hey man, help yourself," says Lucky Strike. "There's enough for everyone, ya dig?" "You don't mind?" "Naw, man." "Thanks," you say as you pocket the opium pipe. Lucky Strike smiles and pulls out a massive hookah from below the counter. Lucky Strike takes a long pull from the pipe, inhaling deeply. >x hookah It's a massive hookah of Asian design. >x newspaper It's an old edition of the "Santa Diablo Seritaph" with a big frontpage headline that reads: "PRESSES STOPPED!! JUDGE BUYS NEWSPAPER OFFICES!!" The accompanying article reads "The Santa Diablo Seritaph will cease production after today's issue as per the orders of our beloved local judge and new owner of the Seritaph, Lazarus Dives Esq. When reached for comment, the judge said he plans to shutter the paper and tear down the office for a new snake oil mine. Judge Dives is well-known locally for his tough-on-other-people's-crime stance and also for being impervious to death dealt by any man born of woman. The judge credits his incredible longevity and success in business to Satan." >x vending The Happy Rhinoceros Joy Joy Wow!! (tm) Auspicious Charms vending machine contains a wide variety of authentic Chinese lucky charms, which, the instructions claim, "exile unlucky ghosts and sad vibes to the land of the ancestors!!! Reasonable price for good is one single silver vulture coin 1868!!!" >l Laundry The Jade Monkey Laundry is crammed floor to ceiling with piles of folded sheets and clothes. There's barely enough room for the proprietor behind the counter. You can go NORTHEAST to the plaza. You can see Lucky Strike, a newspaper and a vending machine here. >take newspaper It's chained to the seat. Obviously, it's only intended for customers to read while waiting for their laundry. >ne Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Tinctures! Brines! Unguents of all kinds!" shouts Hornswaggle, waving his arms dramatically. "I've got everything and anything you need to live a life of perfect health!" >w Sheriff's Office The sheriff's office is a cramped dusty building, covered in dust and festooned with cobwebs; it doesn't look like anyone's used it for a long time. Other than a single desk, with a single drawer, the only thing of note are the faded, yellowed WANTED posters still plastered to the walls. A single jail cell is accessible to the WEST; the plaza is outside to the EAST. You can see a desk (closed), a cavalry saber, a posted bulletin and a safe (closed) here. >x cobwebs Cobwebs fill every corner of the empty office. >x desk It's a simple wooden desk, no doubt used for filling out paperwork back when there was a sheriff to fill out paperwork. >open desk You open the desk drawer. You see a booking ticket inside. >x ticket It's the paperwork that the sheriff fills out when intaking a prisoner for the jail. This one is filled out with information that presumably belonged to the last prisoner to stay in the cell. It says: INTAKE FORM NAME: Tex Arkham, singing cowpoke OFFENCE: busking without a tune CONFISCATED: silver-stringed guitar (impounded in safe) >take it You take the booking ticket. >l Sheriff's Office The sheriff's office is a cramped dusty building, covered in dust and festooned with cobwebs; it doesn't look like anyone's used it for a long time. Other than a single desk, with a single drawer, the only thing of note are the faded, yellowed WANTED posters still plastered to the walls. A single jail cell is accessible to the WEST; the plaza is outside to the EAST. You can see a desk (empty), a cavalry saber, a posted bulletin and a safe (closed) here. >x posters The posters advertise bounties for the capture of various outlaws and bandits. Not surprisingly, you don't see the Judge listed among them. Hmm. Of course. The man's under the color of law now, so the law wouldn't offer that bounty. Whoever advertised that price on the judge's head is obviously doing so under the table. You'll have to seek them out quietly. >x bulletin A posted bulletin in the sheriff's office window reads "By order of Judge L. Dives, The Old Sheriff is hereby removed from office on account of creative differences. From henceforth, the McCreedy twins are declared the new marshals for the Santa Diablo territory." >l Sheriff's Office The sheriff's office is a cramped dusty building, covered in dust and festooned with cobwebs; it doesn't look like anyone's used it for a long time. Other than a single desk, with a single drawer, the only thing of note are the faded, yellowed WANTED posters still plastered to the walls. A single jail cell is accessible to the WEST; the plaza is outside to the EAST. You can see a desk (empty), a cavalry saber, a posted bulletin and a safe (closed) here. >x jail You can't see any such thing. >x safe A massive combination safe, built to last. The only way to get inside is to know the combination or to blow it open. >open it You don't know the combination. >x saber A fine example of the ridiculously heavy military sword affectionately called "The Old Wristbreaker" by cavalry soldiers hangs on the wall. >take it You take the cavalry saber down from the wall. >w Cell The cell is a tiny room used for holding drunks until they sober up or bandits until they're hanged. It's not designed for long term living. It contains an uncomfortable-looking cot. You can go EAST to the sheriff's office. You can see a cot here. >x cot There appears to be something hidden under the sheets of the cot. >x sheets There appears to be something hidden under the sheets of the cot. >move sheets Nothing obvious happens. >take sheets You pull back the sheets and discover a rusty hacksaw hidden under the sheets. Some former prisoner must have smuggled it in, probably hoping to saw through the bars. Since they're no longer around, you have to assume that they succeeded. You can't take that. >* oops That's not a verb I recognise. >take saw You take the hacksaw. >x it A rusty small-toothed saw for cutting metal pipes, wooden boards, and prison bars. >e Sheriff's Office The sheriff's office is a cramped dusty building, covered in dust and festooned with cobwebs; it doesn't look like anyone's used it for a long time. Other than a single desk, with a single drawer, the only thing of note are the faded, yellowed WANTED posters still plastered to the walls. A single jail cell is accessible to the WEST; the plaza is outside to the EAST. You can see a desk (empty), a posted bulletin and a safe (closed) here. >cut safe Cutting it up would achieve little. >e Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Special today on our patent-pending tonics!" cries Hornswaggle "One for the price of two! No shoving, there's plenty for everyone!" >nw You can't go that way. >ne Stable The stable is a building where travellers can shelter their horses while they stay in town. It's filled with hay and a decidely horsey smell. You can go SOUTHWEST to the plaza. You can see a horseshoe and Wildfire here. >x hay Dried straw for horses to eat. Wildfire flicks her long rabbit-like ears. >x shoe You can't see any such thing. >x horseshoe A metal horseshoe in the shape of a horseshoe. >take it You take the horseshoe. >x wildfire Wildfire is a fat grey mule with bulging sides and short stubby legs. She might not be the fastest beast around but she makes up for it with an unusually easy-going temperment for a mule. Looking at her puts a lump in your own throat as you remember your own beloved horse... >pet wildfire Wildfire swishes her tail in appreciation. >ride wildfire Maybe later. You would never ride any horse except your beloved Sugar & Sache!! Well, not if you could help it. A mule might be okay... But if you're gonna ride Wildfire, you'd need a good reason first. Wildfire swishes her tail. >sw Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Tinctures! Brines! Unguents of all kinds!" shouts Hornswaggle, waving his arms dramatically. "I've got everything and anything you need to live a life of perfect health!" >i You are carrying: a horseshoe a hacksaw a cavalry saber a booking ticket an opium pipe a spitoon a sea sponge a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >n Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. >save Ok. >x butch Butch McCreedy is a stubble-jawed brute with a brown duster and a ten gallon hat. They're casually flipping a coin in the air. >talk to butch "Best turn back, pilgrim," says Butch McCreedy, spitting a big gob of chaw at your feet and grinning a gap-toothed grin at you. "You ain't welcome up at the manor and the Judge pays me good lucre to keep punks like you away." "Me and the Judge got unfinished business," you say. "That so? Well, now you've piqued my curiosity, kid. Course I can't just let ya past. But I love me a wager. Tell ya what, kid. I'll let ya past if ya can beat me in a fair contest." >ask butch about contest "What kinda contest you thinking of?" you ask. Butch chortles. "Ya know I like my coffin varnish, so let's make it a drinking contest. You get us some coffin varnish and we'll go at it, tit fer tat, and see who's the better one here." Butch spits a gob of chaw at the ground. >s Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Yes, we have no bezoars!" says Hornswaggle. "They're just too popular! But we've got everything else you could ask for!" >e Cantina The jangled tinny sounds of the pianola mingle with the grumbles and shouts of unruly patrons as you step through the batwing doors; the thick miasma of tobacco smoke nearly chokes you. A chalk menu behind the bar titled "PICK YER POISON" lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. An ornery gaggle of roughnecks and ne'er-do-wells slump against the bar and, at a table in the far corner, you see a group of gamblers deeply immersed in a card game. The walls are covered in ornate cuckoo clocks, each one set to a different time. To your surprise, you notice a number of mangy coyotes skulking around the room, each carefully balancing a platter full of whiskey shots on its head. Oh. Apparently they're the servers? You can go WEST to the plaza. You can go UP to a private room. You can see La Muerte here. La Muerte rubs a soggy rag over the countertop, soaking up spilled whiskey. >ask la muerte about varnish "You got any coffin varnish?" you ask. "Sorry, Senorita," says La Muerte. "We haven't had that in a long time. We just don't have the ingredients to make it these days." "Hmm." You ponder that, stroking your chin. "What if I could find you the right ingredients?" "Oh well, in that case, I could mix you up a bottle. But be warned, Senorita, it's a powerful drink! You'd need tar, venom, and cactus juice." "Tar, venom, and cactus juice," you repeat. "Okay. I'll see what I can do." >w Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Hornswaggle's patented remedies! Good for what ails you!" cries Hornswaggle, even though you're the only person present. "Step right up! Don't be shy!" >n Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. Butch adjusts the brim of their ten gallon hat. >w Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see a shovel and a fresh grave here. >x crosses They mark old graves, long forgotten. >x shovel It's a long-handled shovel. >take it You take the shovel. >x grave The cross says "Here Lies The Sheriff, Relieved of Duty but still buried with his Star." >dig grave What do you want to dig the fresh grave with? >shovel You've dug plenty of graves, but not usually graves that already have someone in them. In your experience, the dead don't like to be disturbed so you'd better take some precautions before you start mucking around like that. >w (first opening the boarded-up door) It's nailed shut with several wooden boards. >cut boards Try sawing it instead. >saw boards What do you want to saw the boarded-up door with? >saw What do you want to saw? >boards What do you want to saw the boarded-up door with? >saw boards with saw You saw through the boards. The rotted boards fall away and the door to the church creaks open. >w Church The nave of the church is a large, white-washed chamber, two rows of wooden pews flanking a central aisle marked by a threadbare red carpet. At first glance it looks like the pews are filled with parishioners, but on closer inspection you realize that they're all just scarecrows. A victrola carefully balanced on the rim of the pulpit spins a wax cylinder, playing the sounds of a choir singing hymns accompanied by organ music. A door to the WEST leads to the vestry. You can climb a ladder UP to the tower. Leaving the exit to the EAST would return you to the boneyard. You can see a victrola and a baptismal font here. >x pews Wooden benches where congregants would usually sit during service. >x carpet A threadbare red carpet marks the central aisle of the church, flanked by two banks of pews. >x scarecrows Just a bunch of human-shaped dummies made of straw, rags, and old junk. >x victrola An old phonograph playing a wax cylinder. >take cylinder You're not going to steal from a church. >x font A basin full of blessed holy water, used for baptising babies into the faith. Some sects believe that man is born as little more than an empty vessel and it is through the sacrament of baptism that he becomes truly blessed with human reason. >take water If you want to do anything with that, you'd best do it right here in the church. >drink font That would be disrespectful. >l Church The nave of the church is a large, white-washed chamber, two rows of wooden pews flanking a central aisle marked by a threadbare red carpet. At first glance it looks like the pews are filled with parishioners, but on closer inspection you realize that they're all just scarecrows. A victrola carefully balanced on the rim of the pulpit spins a wax cylinder, playing the sounds of a choir singing hymns accompanied by organ music. A door to the WEST leads to the vestry. You can climb a ladder UP to the tower. Leaving the exit to the EAST would return you to the boneyard. You can see a victrola and a baptismal font here. >w Vestry The vestry is a small office, filled mostly with old leather-bound books in big messy piles. You can go EAST to the church. You can see a parson and a Bible (closed) here. The parson mumbles prayers under his breath, his bony hands folded together. >x book You can't see any such thing. >x books They appear to contain the history of the parish; you have no interest in reading about that! A rattling cough briefly racks the parson's spindly body. The burlap bag drips a reddish brown fluid. >b bible That's not a verb I recognise. >x parson The parson is a spindly, skeletal man in a black cassock and wide-brimmed hat. He wears a burlap sack over his head with two ragged holes torn for his eyes. >x bible A massive leather-bound tome. It's so thick it must contain ALL the testaments. The gold leaf title reads "Holy Bible, Contemporary Contusions Translation -- includes The Epistles of St. Lethargiuous, The Revelations to the Macadamians, and The Apotheosis of the Cosmogony. (12th ed)." "Lord, give me a sign," mutters the parson. >open it "No, my son, that's church property," says the parson, patting the thick leather-bound bible with a withered hand. "Why, the church wouldn't be safe without it." Damnit, the parson is not gonna let you nab that book as long as he's in the room. >x bag The parson's face is hidden under a rough, stained burlap sack. >take it You don't want that. >talk to parson "Welcome, my child," says the parson in a breathy, rattling voice. "There's always room in God's house for a weary pilgrim. How can I help you?" >ask parson about font "They say a baby doesn't gain human rationality until after it's been baptised, blessed by the divine light," says the parson. "Hallelujah indeed!" >ask parson about church "I'm just a humble servant of the powers that be," he says in a wet, rattling voice. "But it's hard to see the heavens at work these days, when men of earthly authority run roughshed over the bounty bestowed upon us by the Lord. This used to be a beautiful town full of God-fearing people, but now my church is empty." >ask parson about tex "Ah Tex Arkham? Not much of a singing voice on that man, but I hardly think he deserved to be locked up for it. But I'm no judge of earthly laws." The parson crosses himself with his skeletal hands. >ask parson about graves "When we don't know the answer, I always turn to prayer," says the parson, folding his spider-like hands together. "Might I suggest that for you? Maybe the Lord will give you an answer." >pray That's not a verb I recognise. >l Vestry The vestry is a small office, filled mostly with old leather-bound books in big messy piles. You can go EAST to the church. You can see a parson and a Bible (closed) here. >e Church The nave of the church is a large, white-washed chamber, two rows of wooden pews flanking a central aisle marked by a threadbare red carpet. At first glance it looks like the pews are filled with parishioners, but on closer inspection you realize that they're all just scarecrows. A victrola carefully balanced on the rim of the pulpit spins a wax cylinder, playing the sounds of a choir singing hymns accompanied by organ music. A door to the WEST leads to the vestry. You can climb a ladder UP to the tower. Leaving the exit to the EAST would return you to the boneyard. You can see a victrola and a baptismal font here. >u Tower The ladder terminates in a belfry. You can go DOWN to the church. You can see a bell here. >x bell A large sanctus bell, inscribed with the epigraph "The sound of this bell vanquishes tempests, repels demons, and summons men." It would normally ring to signal the start of service, but it has no bellrope. You would need to hang a rope from the bell to fix that. >ring bell The bell has no bellrope, so you can't ring it. >i You are carrying: a shovel a horseshoe a cavalry saber a booking ticket an opium pipe a spitoon a sea sponge a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >x rope You can't see any such thing. >hit bell with saber I only understood you as far as wanting to hit the bell. >d Church The nave of the church is a large, white-washed chamber, two rows of wooden pews flanking a central aisle marked by a threadbare red carpet. At first glance it looks like the pews are filled with parishioners, but on closer inspection you realize that they're all just scarecrows. A victrola carefully balanced on the rim of the pulpit spins a wax cylinder, playing the sounds of a choir singing hymns accompanied by organ music. A door to the WEST leads to the vestry. You can climb a ladder UP to the tower. Leaving the exit to the EAST would return you to the boneyard. You can see a victrola and a baptismal font here. >d You can't go that way. >e Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see a fresh grave here. >e Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. Butch glares at you malevolently. >e Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a gila monster here. The gila monster blinks open one bloodshot eye and regards you balefully. >x monster An enormous warty bloated lizard, covered in swirls of purple and yellow scales, lies sprawled on the ground, regarding you lazily with one baleful yellow eye. You've never seen one so big. You've heard that high amounts of snake oil in the environment can cause mutations like that. Its venomous fangs glisten in the harsh desert sun. It wears a collar with a tag that says "IDA MAE." You've read that gila monsters need a full week to replenish their venom after every bite, but that doesn't do you much good -- one this big would only NEED one bite to do you in! If only there were some way to get it to harmlessly waste its venom... The gila monster flicks her tongue. >give sponge to gila You dangle the sponge in front of the gila monster and, true to form, it springs to life and snaps the sponge between its powerful jaws. You watch as the beast wrestles and shakes the sponge like a terrier shaking a rat. Eventually, it gets bored and drops the sponge, returning to its regular torpor. >n Ravine You're at the bottom of a deep ravine, bordered by steep rocky walls. The mine entrance is to the SOUTH. You can see a barrel cactus and a tumbleweed here. >x cactus A short squat barrel cactus. You've read that travellers lost in the desert can get water from these. >take cactus It's growing out of the ground. You can't just take it. >drink it >drink What do you want to drink? >cactus >l Ravine You're at the bottom of a deep ravine, bordered by steep rocky walls. The mine entrance is to the SOUTH. You can see a barrel cactus and a tumbleweed here. >i You are carrying: a shovel a horseshoe a cavalry saber a booking ticket an opium pipe a spitoon a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >cut cactus Cutting it up would achieve little. >open cactus It isn't something you can open. >l Ravine You're at the bottom of a deep ravine, bordered by steep rocky walls. The mine entrance is to the SOUTH. You can see a barrel cactus and a tumbleweed here. >x tumbleweed A lone tumbleweed bounces back and forth between the ravine walls, buffeted by the wind. It almost looks playful the way it moves. >take it You grab at the tumbleweed, but it playfully bounces from your grasp. This tumbleweed is far too spirited to let itself be caught by the likes of you! >take it You grab at the tumbleweed, but it playfully bounces from your grasp. This tumbleweed is far too spirited to let itself be caught by the likes of you! >s Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster and a venom-infused sponge here. >d You don't have to worry about being bitten now, since you read that gila monsters take a full week to replenish their venom. You sneak past the drowsy gila monster and slip down the mineshaft. Mineshaft The mineshaft is a tunnel of natural stone, supported by wooden arches and lit by flickering carbide lamps. Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. Hand-painted signs hung at intervals warn DANGER!! BLASTING AREA!!! and KEEP OUT!! The cavern continues to the EAST or you can return UP to the surface. You can see some dynamite, Gabby and a miner's lamp here. >x oil Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. You have to wade through the viscous fluid to transverse the mineshaft. >take oil You have no desire to take any snake oil. You've seen how men will kill for that stuff. That ooze is the root of all evil. >x signs They're really insistent that you probably shouldn't be here. >x dynamite The classic bundle of TNT sticks wired to a fuse. >take it You take the dynamite. The hydraulic struts of Gabby's mech legs engage, lifting him up to reach another untapped vein. >x gabby Gabby is a short, white-haired man with a huge bushy white beard and a single gold tooth in his mouth. He wears a raggedy hat, a red kerchief around his neck, and a checkered flannel shirt. He's piloting a massive clockwork mecha that claws at the cave walls with its enormous drill arms, its massive metal struts elevating him above the cavern-filling pool of shimmering snake oil. >talk too baggy I didn't understand that sentence. >talk too gabby I didn't understand that sentence. >talk to gabby "Git outta here, ya durn sidewinder! I done already told yer no-good thieving boss, I ain't a-selling my snake oil mine!" Gabby turns on you angrily, his mech assuming a fighting stance as it brandishes its arm drills. "Judge er no judge, he ain't getting what ain't his!" "I'm not working for the judge!" you say quickly. "In fact, I'm here to take that carpetbagger down!" "Aw well, why didn't ya say so, tenderfoot?" says Gabby, suddenly in a much friendlier mood. "Anyone standing up to that no-good varmint is a friend of mine!" Gabby's mech arm transforms into a pick ax and swings at the wall with vigor. >talk to gabby "I'm a snake oil prospector, been one all my life!" says Gabby as he drills into the wall with one of his mech's arms. "And I won't let no judge run me off-a my land!" "Thar's a rich vein of snake oil in these caves," says Gabby, "An' ain't no claim jumper gonna get the drop on ol' Gabby!" >talk to gabby "I'm a snake oil prospector, been one all my life!" says Gabby as he drills into the wall with one of his mech's arms. "And I won't let no judge run me off-a my land!" Gabby's mech arm transforms into a pick ax and swings at the wall with vigor. >l Mineshaft The mineshaft is a tunnel of natural stone, supported by wooden arches and lit by flickering carbide lamps. Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. Hand-painted signs hung at intervals warn DANGER!! BLASTING AREA!!! and KEEP OUT!! The cavern continues to the EAST or you can return UP to the surface. You can see Gabby and a miner's lamp here. >e campsite The eastern section of the cavern is an elevated plateau above the snake oil pool; Gabby has converted it into a make-shift campsite with a pup tent for sleeping and a small natural gas fumarole for warmth. The large number of empty tin cans attests that Gabby's diet mostly consists of beans. You can go WEST to the mineshaft or UP into a crevice. You can see some magnetic ore and a pot of chili here. >w Mineshaft The mineshaft is a tunnel of natural stone, supported by wooden arches and lit by flickering carbide lamps. Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. Hand-painted signs hung at intervals warn DANGER!! BLASTING AREA!!! and KEEP OUT!! The cavern continues to the EAST or you can return UP to the surface. You can see Gabby and a miner's lamp here. >take lamp "Jest a cotton-picking minute there, lass! I need that thar light!" says Gabby. "If y'all want mah miner's lamp, at least have the decency ta bring me a replacement! >x it It's the thing that gives the most light in the cave, >i You are carrying: some dynamite a shovel a horseshoe a cavalry saber a booking ticket an opium pipe a spitoon a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >give spitoon to gabby Gabby doesn't seem interested. >give chart to gabby Gabby doesn't seem interested. >give pipe to gabby Gabby doesn't seem interested. >e campsite The eastern section of the cavern is an elevated plateau above the snake oil pool; Gabby has converted it into a make-shift campsite with a pup tent for sleeping and a small natural gas fumarole for warmth. The large number of empty tin cans attests that Gabby's diet mostly consists of beans. You can go WEST to the mineshaft or UP into a crevice. You can see some magnetic ore and a pot of chili here. >x tent Gabby must sleep here. >x gas You can't see any such thing. >x cans They're mosty bean cans. >x ore The tingling in your tooth fillings tells you that there's magnetic ore in the walls of this cave. >take it It's part of the wall, so you can't remove it. Though in theory, it could be used to magnetize other objects. >x chili A pot of bubbling 5-alarm chili. This stuff will wreck hell on your intestines. >take it You take the pot of chili. >i You are carrying: a pot of chili some dynamite a shovel a horseshoe a cavalry saber a booking ticket an opium pipe a spitoon a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >magnetize horseshoe What do you want to magnetize the horseshoe on? >ore You rub the horseshoe against the magnetic ore for several seconds until you start to feel resistance; it feels like the horseshoe has become magnetized. >i You are carrying: a pot of chili some dynamite a shovel a horseshoe a cavalry saber a booking ticket an opium pipe a spitoon a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >x horseshoe A metal horseshoe in the shape of a horseshoe. >u It's too dark to go in there. >w Mineshaft The mineshaft is a tunnel of natural stone, supported by wooden arches and lit by flickering carbide lamps. Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. Hand-painted signs hung at intervals warn DANGER!! BLASTING AREA!!! and KEEP OUT!! The cavern continues to the EAST or you can return UP to the surface. You can see Gabby and a miner's lamp here. Gabby slams his mech fist against the wall with such force that a new crack appears and a fresh gout of snake oil spills out. "Eureeka!" he drawls. >u Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster and a venom-infused sponge here. >take sponge You take the venom-infused sponge. >w Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. Butch adjusts the brim of their ten gallon hat. >ask butch about tar "Shuffle off, kid," says Butch McCreedy. "I ain't paid to yap here." >s Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >se Post Office No matter what, the mail must go through... that's the motto for the postal service, but it doesn't look like a whole lot of mail goes through this particular branch anymore. The lobby of the post office is separated from the work space by a high counter, behind which stands the postmaster. A metal telegram machine sits on the counter. You can go NORTHWEST to the plaza. You can see Postmaster Clem Bunions, a package (closed) and a telegram machine here. "No time to jibber jabber, young lady, I gots mail to sort!" says the postmaster. >i You are carrying: a venom-infused sponge a pot of chili some dynamite a shovel a horseshoe a cavalry saber a booking ticket an opium pipe a spitoon a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >nw Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Tinctures! Brines! Unguents of all kinds!" shouts Hornswaggle, waving his arms dramatically. "I've got everything and anything you need to live a life of perfect health!" >e Cantina The jangled tinny sounds of the pianola mingle with the grumbles and shouts of unruly patrons as you step through the batwing doors; the thick miasma of tobacco smoke nearly chokes you. A chalk menu behind the bar titled "PICK YER POISON" lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. An ornery gaggle of roughnecks and ne'er-do-wells slump against the bar and, at a table in the far corner, you see a group of gamblers deeply immersed in a card game. The walls are covered in ornate cuckoo clocks, each one set to a different time. To your surprise, you notice a number of mangy coyotes skulking around the room, each carefully balancing a platter full of whiskey shots on its head. Oh. Apparently they're the servers? You can go WEST to the plaza. You can go UP to a private room. You can see La Muerte here. The gamblers mumble amongst themselves, tossing chips into the pot as the next round of cards begins. >ask la muerte about tar "I wouldn't know about that," says La Muerte, fixing you with her yellow eyes and stroking her diamondback rattlesnake boa until it vibrates. "I'm just your friendly hostess." La Muerte moves down the bar as one of her patrons raises a finger to request a refill. >ask la muerte about varnish "You got any coffin varnish?" you ask. "Sorry, Senorita," says La Muerte. "We haven't had that in a long time. We just don't have the ingredients to make it these days." "Hmm." You ponder that, stroking your chin. "What if I could find you the right ingredients?" "Oh well, in that case, I could mix you up a bottle. But be warned, Senorita, it's a powerful drink! You'd need tar, venom, and cactus juice." "Tar, venom, and cactus juice," you repeat. "Okay. I'll see what I can do." The gamblers mumble amongst themselves, tossing chips into the pot as the next round of cards begins. >give sponge (to La Muerte) "Can you use this to make some coffin varnish?" you ask, offering the venom-infused sponge. La Muerte takes the sponge. "Good thinking, Senorita! I could definitely wring some venom out of this..." >w Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Special today on our patent-pending tonics!" cries Hornswaggle "One for the price of two! No shoving, there's plenty for everyone!" >n Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. >e Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster here. >n Ravine You're at the bottom of a deep ravine, bordered by steep rocky walls. The mine entrance is to the SOUTH. You can see a barrel cactus and a tumbleweed here. >i You are carrying: a pot of chili some dynamite a shovel a horseshoe a cavalry saber a booking ticket an opium pipe a spitoon a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >take cactus It's growing out of the ground. You can't just take it. >harvest cactus That's not a verb I recognise. >put shovel in cactus That can't contain things. >dig cactus What do you want to dig the barrel cactus with? >shovel You could dig up the cactus, but that wouldn't help you get at the juice inside. You need something to cut it open. >open cactus It isn't something you can open. >cut cactus Cutting it up would achieve little. >cut cactus with saver You can't see any such thing. >cut cactus with saber You slice the top of the barrel cactus off. It's full of cactus juice; you scoop out a handful. >i You are carrying: some cactus juice a pot of chili some dynamite a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket an opium pipe a spitoon a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >x juice Water from inside a barrel cactus. >s Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster here. >w Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. Butch glares at you malevolently. >s Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Yes, we have no bezoars!" says Hornswaggle. "They're just too popular! But we've got everything else you could ask for!" >e Cantina The jangled tinny sounds of the pianola mingle with the grumbles and shouts of unruly patrons as you step through the batwing doors; the thick miasma of tobacco smoke nearly chokes you. A chalk menu behind the bar titled "PICK YER POISON" lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. An ornery gaggle of roughnecks and ne'er-do-wells slump against the bar and, at a table in the far corner, you see a group of gamblers deeply immersed in a card game. The walls are covered in ornate cuckoo clocks, each one set to a different time. To your surprise, you notice a number of mangy coyotes skulking around the room, each carefully balancing a platter full of whiskey shots on its head. Oh. Apparently they're the servers? You can go WEST to the plaza. You can go UP to a private room. You can see La Muerte here. >give cactus (to La Muerte) "Can you use this to make some coffin varnish?" you ask, offering the cactus juice. La Muerte takes the cactus juice. "Good thinking, Senorita! I could definitely use this..." >w Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >w Sheriff's Office The sheriff's office is a cramped dusty building, covered in dust and festooned with cobwebs; it doesn't look like anyone's used it for a long time. Other than a single desk, with a single drawer, the only thing of note are the faded, yellowed WANTED posters still plastered to the walls. A single jail cell is accessible to the WEST; the plaza is outside to the EAST. You can see a desk (empty), a posted bulletin and a safe (closed) here. >blow safe You need to light the dynamite first. >light dynamite >i You are carrying: a pot of chili some dynamite a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket an opium pipe a spitoon a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >x pipe A lit, long-stemmed opium pipe, a glowing-red wad of herbs smoldering in the bowl. It emits a pleasant herbal odor. >light dynamite with pipe You light the dynamite with the opium pipe and, as the fuse starts to spark, you throw it quickly under the safe and dive for cover behind the desk. The subsequent explosion rocks the building. KA BOOM!!!. As the dust settles, you emerge to find that the safe door has been blown off its hinges and a silver-stringed guitar is visible inside. >x guitar A guitar with silver strings. >take it You take the silver-stringed guitar. >playit That's not a verb I recognise. >play it You strum your fingers across the strings, but your only reward is an awful twang. You just don't know the first thing about music. >e Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >se Post Office No matter what, the mail must go through... that's the motto for the postal service, but it doesn't look like a whole lot of mail goes through this particular branch anymore. The lobby of the post office is separated from the work space by a high counter, behind which stands the postmaster. A metal telegram machine sits on the counter. You can go NORTHWEST to the plaza. You can see Postmaster Clem Bunions, a package (closed) and a telegram machine here. >give guitar (to Postmaster Clem Bunions) Postmaster Clem Bunions doesn't seem interested. "Hmm, that'll go out with the next shipment," he mutters as he tosses another letter in his pile. >l Post Office No matter what, the mail must go through... that's the motto for the postal service, but it doesn't look like a whole lot of mail goes through this particular branch anymore. The lobby of the post office is separated from the work space by a high counter, behind which stands the postmaster. A metal telegram machine sits on the counter. You can go NORTHWEST to the plaza. You can see Postmaster Clem Bunions, a package (closed) and a telegram machine here. >i You are carrying: a silver-stringed guitar a pot of chili a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a spitoon a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >x ticket It's the paperwork that the sheriff fills out when intaking a prisoner for the jail. This one is filled out with information that presumably belonged to the last prisoner to stay in the cell. It says: INTAKE FORM NAME: Tex Arkham, singing cowpoke OFFENCE: busking without a tune CONFISCATED: silver-stringed guitar (impounded in safe) The postmaster neatens the pile of letters between his hands. >x chart A large poster mural depicting the full moon and starry night sky; the constellations are unfamiliar to you. >n You can't go that way. The postmaster pulls his visor down lower over his eyes. >nw Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Tinctures! Brines! Unguents of all kinds!" shouts Hornswaggle, waving his arms dramatically. "I've got everything and anything you need to live a life of perfect health!" >in "Interested in inspecting the merchandise?" says Hornswaggle brightly. He throws open the wagon door and ushers you inside. "Course ya are! C'mon, I'll take you inside! And if you got any questions about my medicines, ask away! I'm here to help!" Wagon The inside of the medicine wagon is a cramped space lined with shelves and cabinets, all filled with bottles of suspicious liquids and odd powders. A large vat at the western end of the room bubbles with a thick, foul-smelling slurry. You can go OUT to the plaza. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle, a vat (in which is a homunculus) and an empty tray here. "Special today on our patent-pending tonics!" cries Hornswaggle "One for the price of two! No shoving, there's plenty for everyone!" >x vat A large vat bubbles with a thick, foul-smelling slurry. In the vat is a homunculus. >x homuncuus You can't see any such thing. >x homunculus The homunculus is a tiny anemic creature made of stringy roots vaguely in the shape of a human. It waves its spindly arms and legs pathetically. >x tray It's an empty tray that says "BEZOARS!!! GOOD FOR POISON!!!! 10 cents each!!!" Looks like they're sold out, though. "Hornswaggle's cure-alls, made with genuine Santa Diablo snake oil!" cries Hornswaggle, waving his arms. "Effective remedy for mumps, measles, ennui, malaise, the intangible squirms, and juggler's despair!" >ask ulysses about tar "Well, I wouldn't know anything about that, friend! But if you happen to have any questions about what my patent-pending Hornswaggle's Healing Tonic (Made with 100% REAL snake oil!) can do for your health, why, maybe I can answer that with a little more alacrity!" "Tinctures! Brines! Unguents of all kinds!" shouts Hornswaggle, waving his arms dramatically. "I've got everything and anything you need to live a life of perfect health!" >use magnet You can't see any such thing. >i You are carrying: a silver-stringed guitar a pot of chili a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a spitoon a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >use horseshoe What do you want to use the horseshoe with? >telegram You can't see any such thing. >l Wagon The inside of the medicine wagon is a cramped space lined with shelves and cabinets, all filled with bottles of suspicious liquids and odd powders. A large vat at the western end of the room bubbles with a thick, foul-smelling slurry. You can go OUT to the plaza. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle, a vat (in which is a homunculus) and an empty tray here. "Special today on our patent-pending tonics!" cries Hornswaggle "One for the price of two! No shoving, there's plenty for everyone!" >out "Had enough, friend?" says Hornswaggle. "Fair enough! Come back anytime!" He throws open the wagon door and hops out. Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >se Post Office No matter what, the mail must go through... that's the motto for the postal service, but it doesn't look like a whole lot of mail goes through this particular branch anymore. The lobby of the post office is separated from the work space by a high counter, behind which stands the postmaster. A metal telegram machine sits on the counter. You can go NORTHWEST to the plaza. You can see Postmaster Clem Bunions, a package (closed) and a telegram machine here. >use magnet with telegram You can't see any such thing. >use horseshoe with telegram Holding the magnet under the counter so that the postmaster can't see, you move it back and forth subtly... and the metal telegram machine arm starts to respond! Carefully, carefully... you wave the magnet so that the arm taps out a very specific morse code message. "What's all this now, hey? Hold yer horses," says the postmaster as he strains to listen to the tapping. "Huh! Sounds like Tex is sending a message. "I...designate... The Horse Girl... as my agent... to pick up... my mail. Well, if that don't beat all!" He turns to you. "Sounds like Tex wants you to have it. Huh! Well, the package is all yours, do what you want with it." "No time to jibber jabber, young lady, I gots mail to sort!" says the postmaster. >* Ah, "use" is a little tricky You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >take package You take the pachage. >open it You open the package. Within is a wax cylinder labeled "Lesson #23: Charming Nature with Song." >take it You can't see 'it' (nothing) at the moment. >x it You can't see 'it' (nothing) at the moment. >x cylinder A wax cylinder labeled "Lesson #23: Charming Nature with Song." "Hmm, that'll go out with the next shipment," he mutters as he tosses another letter in his pile. >take it You take the wax cylinder. >nw Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >n Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. Butch spits a gob of chaw at the ground. >w Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see a fresh grave here. >w Church The nave of the church is a large, white-washed chamber, two rows of wooden pews flanking a central aisle marked by a threadbare red carpet. At first glance it looks like the pews are filled with parishioners, but on closer inspection you realize that they're all just scarecrows. A victrola carefully balanced on the rim of the pulpit spins a wax cylinder, playing the sounds of a choir singing hymns accompanied by organ music. A door to the WEST leads to the vestry. You can climb a ladder UP to the tower. Leaving the exit to the EAST would return you to the boneyard. You can see a victrola and a baptismal font here. >put cylinder in victrola (the wax cylinder in the victrola) That can't contain things. >i You are carrying: a wax cylinder a silver-stringed guitar a pot of chili a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a spitoon a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >x victrola An old phonograph playing a wax cylinder. >play cylinder (the wax cylinder) Try playing it on a victrola. >play cylinder on victrola (the wax cylinder on the victrola) You remove the hymn wax cylinder and replace it with your own before cranking the machine up. The needle drops on the cylinder and you hear a tinny voice from the victrola's trumpet: "Howdy, buckaroos! This here is Buster Bronco, Perfesser Emeritus at the Dusty Trails Correspondence School fer Singing Cowpokes, with your next lesson. Now any singing cowpoke worth his salt is gonna know how to charm critters with his song! 'Course varmints like jackelopes or sidewinders take a bit of practice... best to start with something simple that don't got too much brain to charm. Ya know ya can charm jest about anything in this natural world? A simple song might make the praire wind blow sweeter or the make the mighty saguaro dance in the breeze or even make a dust devil eat outta yer hand!" Buster precedes to explain some simple guitar chords for this purpose. By the time he's done, you feel like you've got the hang of it. You could play your guitar beautifully if you tried, you wager! The lesson completed, you remove your wax cylinder and replace the original. >play guitar You play the guitar beautifully. Well, for you, anyway. >in You can't go that way. >w Vestry The vestry is a small office, filled mostly with old leather-bound books in big messy piles. You can go EAST to the church. You can see a parson and a Bible (closed) here. >play guitar You play the guitar beautifully. Well, for you, anyway. >x tar The spitoon contains a thick black sludge of saliva and tobacco residue. >take it You take the spitoon. A rattling cough briefly racks the parson's spindly body. The burlap bag drips a reddish brown fluid. >e Church The nave of the church is a large, white-washed chamber, two rows of wooden pews flanking a central aisle marked by a threadbare red carpet. At first glance it looks like the pews are filled with parishioners, but on closer inspection you realize that they're all just scarecrows. A victrola carefully balanced on the rim of the pulpit spins a wax cylinder, playing the sounds of a choir singing hymns accompanied by organ music. A door to the WEST leads to the vestry. You can climb a ladder UP to the tower. Leaving the exit to the EAST would return you to the boneyard. You can see a victrola and a baptismal font here. >e Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see a fresh grave here. >s You can't go that way. >s You can't go that way. >e Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. Butch grins nastily at you, baring their cracked blackened teeth. >s Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >e Cantina The jangled tinny sounds of the pianola mingle with the grumbles and shouts of unruly patrons as you step through the batwing doors; the thick miasma of tobacco smoke nearly chokes you. A chalk menu behind the bar titled "PICK YER POISON" lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. An ornery gaggle of roughnecks and ne'er-do-wells slump against the bar and, at a table in the far corner, you see a group of gamblers deeply immersed in a card game. The walls are covered in ornate cuckoo clocks, each one set to a different time. To your surprise, you notice a number of mangy coyotes skulking around the room, each carefully balancing a platter full of whiskey shots on its head. Oh. Apparently they're the servers? You can go WEST to the plaza. You can go UP to a private room. You can see La Muerte here. La Muerte rubs a soggy rag over the countertop, soaking up spilled whiskey. >give tar (to La Muerte) "Can you use this to make some coffin varnish?" you ask, offering the spitoon. La Muerte take the spitoon and eyes it critcally. "Good thinking, Senorita. I think this could work... one moment, gringa..." La Muerte briefly disappears into the back and you hear the sounds of shaking and blending. She emerges again and hands you a green glass bottle. "There now, some fresh coffin varnish, Senorita. But mind yourself! That's some powerful juju there." La Muerte moves down the bar as one of her patrons raises a finger to request a refill. >x varnish A green bottle full of an evil oily looking liquid. >save Ok. >w Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >n Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. >give varnish (to Butch McCreedy) Butch's face breaks out into an ugly smile, revealing splintered, blackened teeth. "Alright, kid, nice work! Now let's see what yer made of." Butch pockets the coin, whips out a pair of grimy shot glasses and fills each from the green bottle. They place one before you and nods expectantly. >drink What do you want to drink? >varnish (the coffin varnish) Not just yet! Butch glares at you malevolently. >i You are carrying: some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a silver-stringed guitar a pot of chili a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >l Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see a shot glass of coffin varnish and Butch McCreedy here. Butch grins nastily at you, baring their cracked blackened teeth. >give chili (to Butch McCreedy) Butch McCreedy doesn't seem interested. Butch spits a gob of chaw at the ground. >eat chili You don't want to give yourself gas. Butch adjusts the brim of their ten gallon hat. >l Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see a shot glass of coffin varnish and Butch McCreedy here. >n "Hold on there, kid," says Butch McCreedy, stepping into your path. "The Judge don't like to be disturbed during dinner. You best turn back." Butch glares at you malevolently. >l Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see a shot glass of coffin varnish and Butch McCreedy here. Butch adjusts the brim of their ten gallon hat. >x glass It's a shot glass filled with an evil oily liquid. Butch grins nastily at you, baring their cracked blackened teeth. >takeit That's not a verb I recognise. >take it "Hold on thar, kid," says Butch McCreedy, grabbing your hand. "Don't you think you can be running off with that. If you're gonna drink it, you're gonna drink it right here." >drink it You drink the shot. Immediately, everything goes black. Mortuary The mortuary is a small somber office, tastefully decorated with garlands of black roses befitting its role in the community. Floor models of several different models of caskets are visible, as are several different models of urns. You can go NORTH to the plaza. You can see Wormfood here. "Oh! You're awake!" you hear a familiar voice say. Groaning, you struggle to push yourself into a sitting position, blinking groggily. Your head is pounding with a severe coffin varnish hangover. They weren't kidding around when they named that stuff! You suddenly realize that you're in the mortuary and, further, that you're sitting in a coffin. "Sorry, we, uh, thought you were... kinda dead?" says Wormfood sheepishly. "You never made a selection, but I thought the Heavenly Hudson really just kinda fit you, ya know?" She helps you step out of the coffin. "But guess you won't need that after all, huh?" "No," you say, "I guess not." Huh. Looks like winning this drinking contest is gonna be harder than you thought. You're never gonna be able to outdrink Butch unless you find some way to neutralize the alcohol in your system next round. >n Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Tinctures! Brines! Unguents of all kinds!" shouts Hornswaggle, waving his arms dramatically. "I've got everything and anything you need to live a life of perfect health!" >ask ulysses about alcohol "Well, I wouldn't know anything about that, friend! But if you happen to have any questions about what my patent-pending Hornswaggle's Healing Tonic (Made with 100% REAL snake oil!) can do for your health, why, maybe I can answer that with a little more alacrity!" >e Cantina The jangled tinny sounds of the pianola mingle with the grumbles and shouts of unruly patrons as you step through the batwing doors; the thick miasma of tobacco smoke nearly chokes you. A chalk menu behind the bar titled "PICK YER POISON" lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. An ornery gaggle of roughnecks and ne'er-do-wells slump against the bar and, at a table in the far corner, you see a group of gamblers deeply immersed in a card game. The walls are covered in ornate cuckoo clocks, each one set to a different time. To your surprise, you notice a number of mangy coyotes skulking around the room, each carefully balancing a platter full of whiskey shots on its head. Oh. Apparently they're the servers? You can go WEST to the plaza. You can go UP to a private room. You can see La Muerte here. >ask muerte about alcohol You've already got some coffin varnish. You don't need any more. A serving coyote brushes past you, raising its hackles and growling as it bumps you. >ask muerte about varnish You've already got some coffin varnish. You don't need any more. The gamblers mumble amongst themselves, tossing chips into the pot as the next round of cards begins. >w Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >ask ulysses about bezoar "Sorry, friend, I'm afraid we're all out of bezoars! You know, those are pretty popular!" "What do they do?" you ask. "And, uh, what are they?" "It's a big glob of indigestible schmutz that accumulates in an animal's digestive tract," says Hornswaggle. "I know it sounds disgusting, friend, but it's an amazing poison remedy! You swallow it down and you're impervious to poison!" "What, like snake bites?" "I said poison, my friend," says Hornswaggle. "Not venom. There's a difference." >i You are carrying: some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a silver-stringed guitar a pot of chili a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >n Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. >w Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see a fresh grave here. >dig grave with shovel You've dug plenty of graves, but not usually graves that already have someone in them. In your experience, the dead don't like to be disturbed so you'd better take some precautions before you start mucking around like that. >w Church The nave of the church is a large, white-washed chamber, two rows of wooden pews flanking a central aisle marked by a threadbare red carpet. At first glance it looks like the pews are filled with parishioners, but on closer inspection you realize that they're all just scarecrows. A victrola carefully balanced on the rim of the pulpit spins a wax cylinder, playing the sounds of a choir singing hymns accompanied by organ music. A door to the WEST leads to the vestry. You can climb a ladder UP to the tower. Leaving the exit to the EAST would return you to the boneyard. You can see a victrola and a baptismal font here. >i You are carrying: some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a silver-stringed guitar a pot of chili a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >put shovel in font That can't contain things. >bless That's not a verb I recognise. >pray That's not a verb I recognise. >take water If you want to do anything with that, you'd best do it right here in the church. >anoint That's not a verb I recognise. >dip That's not a verb I recognise. >drink What do you want to drink? >water That would be disrespectful. >w Vestry The vestry is a small office, filled mostly with old leather-bound books in big messy piles. You can go EAST to the church. You can see a parson and a Bible (closed) here. >talk to parson "How can I counsel you, friend?" asks the parson in his breathy, rattling voice. >ask parson about water "When we don't know the answer, I always turn to prayer," says the parson, folding his spider-like hands together. "Might I suggest that for you? Maybe the Lord will give you an answer." >ask parson about holy water "They say a baby doesn't gain human rationality until after it's been baptised, blessed by the divine light," says the parson. "Hallelujah indeed!" The parson crosses himself with his skeletal hands. >ask parson about grave "When we don't know the answer, I always turn to prayer," says the parson, folding his spider-like hands together. "Might I suggest that for you? Maybe the Lord will give you an answer." >ask parson about bell "Our church bell hasn't rung in quite some time," says the parson. "It's been silent as long as that ungodly man Judge Dives has been a blight on our community. But I know it will ring soon. The Lord has foretold it! And when the Lord speaks through the bell's ringing, I will know it's time to start giving sermons again." >e Church The nave of the church is a large, white-washed chamber, two rows of wooden pews flanking a central aisle marked by a threadbare red carpet. At first glance it looks like the pews are filled with parishioners, but on closer inspection you realize that they're all just scarecrows. A victrola carefully balanced on the rim of the pulpit spins a wax cylinder, playing the sounds of a choir singing hymns accompanied by organ music. A door to the WEST leads to the vestry. You can climb a ladder UP to the tower. Leaving the exit to the EAST would return you to the boneyard. You can see a victrola and a baptismal font here. >e Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see a fresh grave here. >e Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. Butch glares at you malevolently. >e Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster here. >w Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. >e Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster here. >n Ravine You're at the bottom of a deep ravine, bordered by steep rocky walls. The mine entrance is to the SOUTH. You can see a tumbleweed here. >x tumbleweed A lone tumbleweed bounces back and forth between the ravine walls, buffeted by the wind. It almost looks playful the way it moves. >i You are carrying: some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a silver-stringed guitar a pot of chili a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >x chart A large poster mural depicting the full moon and starry night sky; the constellations are unfamiliar to you. >play guitar You strum your fingers across the silver strings, producing a beautifully lonesome melody as poignant and sweet as the desert sunset. To your surprise, the tumbleweed pauses in its frolic. It rolls up to you, bumping into your leg so that it almost seems to be nuzzling your feet. It doesn't object as you scoop it up. >x tumbleweed A tumbleweed of dried up gorse. >s Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster here. >eat it That's plainly inedible. >e You can't go that way. >d You don't have to worry about being bitten now, since you read that gila monsters take a full week to replenish their venom. You sneak past the drowsy gila monster and slip down the mineshaft. Mineshaft The mineshaft is a tunnel of natural stone, supported by wooden arches and lit by flickering carbide lamps. Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. Hand-painted signs hung at intervals warn DANGER!! BLASTING AREA!!! and KEEP OUT!! The cavern continues to the EAST or you can return UP to the surface. You can see Gabby and a miner's lamp here. >give chili (to Gabby) Gabby doesn't seem interested. >give tumbleweed (to Gabby) Gabby doesn't seem interested. >give pipe You can't see any such thing. >i You are carrying: a tumbleweed some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a pot of chili a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a star chart a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >play guitar You can't see any such thing. >give varnish (to Gabby) Gabby doesn't seem interested. >give chart (to Gabby) Gabby doesn't seem interested. Gabby's mech arm transforms into a pick ax and swings at the wall with vigor. >x it A large poster mural depicting the full moon and starry night sky; the constellations are unfamiliar to you. >e campsite The eastern section of the cavern is an elevated plateau above the snake oil pool; Gabby has converted it into a make-shift campsite with a pup tent for sleeping and a small natural gas fumarole for warmth. The large number of empty tin cans attests that Gabby's diet mostly consists of beans. You can go WEST to the mineshaft or UP into a crevice. You can see some magnetic ore here. >u It's too dark to go in there. >w Mineshaft The mineshaft is a tunnel of natural stone, supported by wooden arches and lit by flickering carbide lamps. Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. Hand-painted signs hung at intervals warn DANGER!! BLASTING AREA!!! and KEEP OUT!! The cavern continues to the EAST or you can return UP to the surface. You can see Gabby and a miner's lamp here. >u Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster here. >d You don't have to worry about being bitten now, since you read that gila monsters take a full week to replenish their venom. You sneak past the drowsy gila monster and slip down the mineshaft. Mineshaft The mineshaft is a tunnel of natural stone, supported by wooden arches and lit by flickering carbide lamps. Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. Hand-painted signs hung at intervals warn DANGER!! BLASTING AREA!!! and KEEP OUT!! The cavern continues to the EAST or you can return UP to the surface. You can see Gabby and a miner's lamp here. >take lamp "Jest a cotton-picking minute there, lass! I need that thar light!" says Gabby. "If y'all want mah miner's lamp, at least have the decency ta bring me a replacement! >u Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster here. >w Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. >s Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Yes, we have no bezoars!" says Hornswaggle. "They're just too popular! But we've got everything else you could ask for!" >w Sheriff's Office The sheriff's office is a cramped dusty building, covered in dust and festooned with cobwebs; it doesn't look like anyone's used it for a long time. Other than a single desk, with a single drawer, the only thing of note are the faded, yellowed WANTED posters still plastered to the walls. A single jail cell is accessible to the WEST; the plaza is outside to the EAST. You can see a desk (empty), a posted bulletin and a safe (empty) here. >w Cell The cell is a tiny room used for holding drunks until they sober up or bandits until they're hanged. It's not designed for long term living. It contains an uncomfortable-looking cot. You can go EAST to the sheriff's office. You can see a cot here. >x cot It looks uncomfortable. >e Sheriff's Office The sheriff's office is a cramped dusty building, covered in dust and festooned with cobwebs; it doesn't look like anyone's used it for a long time. Other than a single desk, with a single drawer, the only thing of note are the faded, yellowed WANTED posters still plastered to the walls. A single jail cell is accessible to the WEST; the plaza is outside to the EAST. You can see a desk (empty), a posted bulletin and a safe (empty) here. >e Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >s Mortuary The mortuary is a small somber office, tastefully decorated with garlands of black roses befitting its role in the community. Floor models of several different models of caskets are visible, as are several different models of urns. You can go NORTH to the plaza. You can see Wormfood here. >n Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Tinctures! Brines! Unguents of all kinds!" shouts Hornswaggle, waving his arms dramatically. "I've got everything and anything you need to live a life of perfect health!" >sw Laundry The Jade Monkey Laundry is crammed floor to ceiling with piles of folded sheets and clothes. There's barely enough room for the proprietor behind the counter. You can go NORTHEAST to the plaza. You can see Lucky Strike, a newspaper and a vending machine here. >x machine The Happy Rhinoceros Joy Joy Wow!! (tm) Auspicious Charms vending machine contains a wide variety of authentic Chinese lucky charms, which, the instructions claim, "exile unlucky ghosts and sad vibes to the land of the ancestors!!! Reasonable price for good is one single silver vulture coin 1868!!!" "Man, you ever look at your hand, man?" says Lucky Strike, staring at the palm of his hand. "I mean, like, REALLY look at your hand?" >ne Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >se Post Office No matter what, the mail must go through... that's the motto for the postal service, but it doesn't look like a whole lot of mail goes through this particular branch anymore. The lobby of the post office is separated from the work space by a high counter, behind which stands the postmaster. A metal telegram machine sits on the counter. You can go NORTHWEST to the plaza. You can see Postmaster Clem Bunions and a telegram machine here. >nw Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Hornswaggle's cure-alls, made with genuine Santa Diablo snake oil!" cries Hornswaggle, waving his arms. "Effective remedy for mumps, measles, ennui, malaise, the intangible squirms, and juggler's despair!" >e Cantina The jangled tinny sounds of the pianola mingle with the grumbles and shouts of unruly patrons as you step through the batwing doors; the thick miasma of tobacco smoke nearly chokes you. A chalk menu behind the bar titled "PICK YER POISON" lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. An ornery gaggle of roughnecks and ne'er-do-wells slump against the bar and, at a table in the far corner, you see a group of gamblers deeply immersed in a card game. The walls are covered in ornate cuckoo clocks, each one set to a different time. To your surprise, you notice a number of mangy coyotes skulking around the room, each carefully balancing a platter full of whiskey shots on its head. Oh. Apparently they're the servers? You can go WEST to the plaza. You can go UP to a private room. You can see La Muerte here. >u Private Room A tastefully decorated private room where patrons who want to pay extra can retire to receive extra services. A woman sits in a claw-foot bathtub, everything but her face obscured by mountains of soap bubbles. You can go DOWN to the cantina. You can see a claw-foot bathtub and Angelhair Horchata here. Angelhair Horchata lifts her left leg out of the tub and conspicuously soaps it up, drawing her hands over her smooth slippery flesh. >x tub A nice cleansing bath always makes you feel better. It seems to be doing wonders for Angelhair Horchata's disposition. >d Cantina The jangled tinny sounds of the pianola mingle with the grumbles and shouts of unruly patrons as you step through the batwing doors; the thick miasma of tobacco smoke nearly chokes you. A chalk menu behind the bar titled "PICK YER POISON" lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. An ornery gaggle of roughnecks and ne'er-do-wells slump against the bar and, at a table in the far corner, you see a group of gamblers deeply immersed in a card game. The walls are covered in ornate cuckoo clocks, each one set to a different time. To your surprise, you notice a number of mangy coyotes skulking around the room, each carefully balancing a platter full of whiskey shots on its head. Oh. Apparently they're the servers? You can go WEST to the plaza. You can go UP to a private room. You can see La Muerte here. >help Quick Help Objects: Try LOOK AT..., SPEAK TO..., TAKE..., DROP..., OPEN..., GIVE... TO..., USE... ON/WITH... Talk to: Most characters in the game will have something to say, useful or not. You can speak to characters by typing TALK TO or ASK (CHARACTER) ABOUT (THING). Some puzzles will require you to ASK characters about things to prompt them to do things! Inventory: See which items you are carrying by typing I, INV or INVENTORY. Moving around: Press the compass buttons, or type GO NORTH, SOUTH, E, GO TO... This game understands many verbs, but the game can be finished using only the following commands: Look at, Eat, Drink, Drop, Take, Ride, Use, Play, Milk, Talk to, Open, Hang, Pour, Search, Ask XX about XX, Put XX in XX, Give XX to XX, Rub XX on XX, Dig XX with XX, Saw XX with XX, Reflect XX with XX, Slice XX with XX, Light XX with XX. Special thanks to Rovarsson, Lance Campbell, J.J. Guest, Olaf Nowacki, Grueslayer, Cacheblaster, Xin Jing Meng, Widow Dido, and Bitterlyindifferent for playtesting! >s You can't go that way. A serving coyote brushes past you, raising its hackles and growling as it bumps you. >e You can't go that way. >n You can't go that way. The gamblers mumble amongst themselves, tossing chips into the pot as the next round of cards begins. >w Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >se Post Office No matter what, the mail must go through... that's the motto for the postal service, but it doesn't look like a whole lot of mail goes through this particular branch anymore. The lobby of the post office is separated from the work space by a high counter, behind which stands the postmaster. A metal telegram machine sits on the counter. You can go NORTHWEST to the plaza. You can see Postmaster Clem Bunions and a telegram machine here. >nw Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >s Mortuary The mortuary is a small somber office, tastefully decorated with garlands of black roses befitting its role in the community. Floor models of several different models of caskets are visible, as are several different models of urns. You can go NORTH to the plaza. You can see Wormfood here. >show chart (to Wormfood) You hand the rolled up star chart to Wormfood. "What's this?" she says, taking it and unfurling it. Her eyes go wide. "Oh no... oh no!" She drops the star chart, groaning and doubling over. You watch in stunned shock as Wormfood writhes and squirms, thick tufts of fur sprouting from her body. In moments, the young woman is gone and all that remains is one very annoyed looking wampus cat. "Aww! Why'd you have to go and do that?" whines the wampus cat. "I can't get anything done like this!" The wampus cat clears her throat, a loud hacking sound. >* huh, how were we supposed to know that? You seem to want to talk to someone, but I can't see whom. >give tumbleweed (to the wampus cat) "Hey, would you like some of this tumbleweed?" you ask. The wampus cat flicks her tail and licks her lips. "It's a little dry... but it'll have to do. Sure, thanks!" You place the tumbleweed in front of the wampus cat and watch as she tears off chunks of dry gorse, chews, and swallows. She pauses, her body convulses, and she gags loudly... and then vomits up a big sticky hairball. She smacks her lips. "Bleh! Glad that's out! Thanks, I really appreciate it. I'm still a little annoyed at you for doing this to me, but at least you didn't leave me in the lurch!" >take hairball Ew, gross. But it might be useful, so you take it anyway. >eat it You brace yourself, but you know it's for your own good. You close your eyes and shove it in your mouth. It's chewy and gross, but you swallow it down and instantly feel more... fortified? You feel a sense of well-being, like you could drink ANY poison and survive! >n Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >n Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see Butch McCreedy here. >drink varnish Not just yet! >talk to butch "Another go?" Butch laughs. "Yeah!" you say, staring Butch straight in the eye. "I'm feeling lucky! You're about to go down, Butch." "Alright, kid! It's yer funeral." Laughing, Butch slams the coin into a pocket, pours out another shot of coffin varnish and places the shot on the ground in front of you. "Your move, kid!" Butch adjusts the brim of their ten gallon hat. >drink varnish (the coffin varnish) Not just yet! >drink varnish (the coffin varnish) Not just yet! >talk to butch "Another go?" Butch laughs. "Yeah!" you say, staring Butch straight in the eye. "I'm feeling lucky! You're about to go down, Butch." "Alright, kid! It's yer funeral." Laughing, Butch slams the coin into a pocket, pours out another shot of coffin varnish and places the shot on the ground in front of you. "Your move, kid!" >take varnish (the shot glass of coffin varnish) "Hold on thar, kid," says Butch McCreedy, grabbing your hand. "Don't you think you can be running off with that. If you're gonna drink it, you're gonna drink it right here." Butch grins nastily at you, baring their cracked blackened teeth. >drink int You can't see any such thing. >drink it You drink the shot. You grimace as you feel the caustic liquor burning all the way down your throat, but you fix Butch with a steely gaze that tells them you don't care. Butch raises an eyebrow in surprise to see you still standing, but says nothing -- they just grab their shot and down it. A pause and then -- Butch keels over backwards, out cold. Ha! Looks like Butch couldn't hold their liquor nearly as well as they liked to think! >x coin You can't see any such thing. >take it You can't see 'it' (nothing) at the moment. >x butch Butch is out cold. You won't have to worry about this chump anymore. Why, Butch couldn't even stop you from searching through their pockets at this point. >search butch You rifle through Butch's pockets, but the only thing of value you find is that 1868 Silver Buzzard coin they were flipping. You quickly slip it into your own pocket. >s Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. "Yes, we have no bezoars!" says Hornswaggle. "They're just too popular! But we've got everything else you could ask for!" >sw Laundry The Jade Monkey Laundry is crammed floor to ceiling with piles of folded sheets and clothes. There's barely enough room for the proprietor behind the counter. You can go NORTHEAST to the plaza. You can see Lucky Strike, a newspaper and a vending machine here. Lucky Strike blows a ring of smoke. >put coin in machine You jam the coin into the vending machine and punch a button to make your selection. The machine rattles and wheezes before dropping a numismatic charm into the tray. >x charm It's a small copper disc with a square hole in the middle and a picture of a rhinoceros. Supposedly, the numismatic charm can "exile unlucky ghosts and sad vibes to the land of the ancestors." >n You can't go that way. Lucky Strike takes a long pull from the pipe, inhaling deeply. >ne Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >n Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see comatose Butch McCreedy here. >w Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see a fresh grave here. >dig grave with shovel You've dug plenty of graves, but not usually graves that already have someone in them. In your experience, the dead don't like to be disturbed so you'd better take some precautions before you start mucking around like that. >x charm You can't see any such thing. >e Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see comatose Butch McCreedy here. >s Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >s Mortuary The mortuary is a small somber office, tastefully decorated with garlands of black roses befitting its role in the community. Floor models of several different models of caskets are visible, as are several different models of urns. You can go NORTH to the plaza. You can see a wampus cat here. >n Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >sw Laundry The Jade Monkey Laundry is crammed floor to ceiling with piles of folded sheets and clothes. There's barely enough room for the proprietor behind the counter. You can go NORTHEAST to the plaza. You can see a numismatic charm, Lucky Strike, a newspaper and a vending machine here. >take charm You take the numismatic charm. >wear it It's not the sort of charm you wear; you just carry it around with you and that's enough for it to work its magic. >ne Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >n Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see comatose Butch McCreedy here. >w Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see a fresh grave here. >dig grave with shovel Confident that the numismatic charm you purchased at the laundry will protect you from any vengeful spirits, you stick your shovel into the freshly turn earth and start to dig. After a few minutes, your spade hits something hard. >l Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see an open grave and a pine box (closed) here. >x box A sturdy pine box. >open it You open the pine box, revealing a cadaver and a tin star. >x cadaver A grinning skeletal cadaver dressed in the rags of a sheriff's uniform. >x star A tarnished sheriff's badge. It says SHERIFF on it. >take it You gingerly pluck it from the cadaver's chest. As you do so, you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end as an eerie electrical tingle charges the air. Suddenly, a moaning ghost rises up out of the grave. "Tarnation!" moans the ghost, reaching for you with grasping skeletal fingers. "Grave robbin' is a major offense in these here parts! I'm a-gonna take you in!" He recoils suddenly as if stung. "What the?! Y'all got a numismatic charm? Dagnabit!" Looks like the charm is having the desired effect! >e Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see comatose Butch McCreedy here. >w Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see a sheriff's ghost, an open grave and a pine box (in which is a cadaver) here. >x ghost The sheriff's ghost appears as a faintly transparent image of a floating skeleton dressed in the rags of a sheriff's uniform. He looks just like his cadaver. The sheriff's ghost flickers slightly. >talk to him "Tarnation, who are ya, ya grave robbin' varmint?" says the sheriff's ghost. "If I still had my badge and my gun, I'd take you straight to the county hoosegow! If only that sidewinder Dives hadn't put me in the ground..." "They call me Horse Girl," you say. "And I'm here to take Dives down for what he did." The sheriff's ghost regards you with empty eye sockets. "Are you now? Well that's a different story... I know what Dives did to me, but what'd he do to you that you want revenge so bad?" You take a deep breath. "I was an orphan," you say. "Never knew my real ma or my real pa. When I was just a pup, though, the horses of the plains took me in and raised me like one of their own. Sugar & Sache, she's everything to me - ma and pa and sister and brother. We lived a happy, carefree life on the prarie. Until Dives and his no-good gang of horse thieves ran through. They kidnapped Sugar & Sache... but I mean to rescue her and put that Dives six feet under the ground!" The sheriff's ghost pauses. "Well, lil' lady, yer story has moved me! Keep that star. I hope you get more use outta it than I did." A sudden gust of wind blows eerily through the sheriff's ghost. >x star A tarnished sheriff's badge. It says SHERIFF on it. >talk to him The sheriff's ghost regards you with empty eye sockets. "Tell me again, Horse Girl, what'd Dives do to you that you want revenge so bad?" You take a deep breath. "I was an orphan," you say. "Never knew my real ma or my real pa. When I was just a pup, though, the horses of the plains took me in and raised me like one of their own. Sugar & Sache, she's everything to me - ma and pa and sister and brother. We lived a happy, carefree life on the prarie. Until Dives and his no-good gang of horse thieves ran through. They kidnapped Sugar & Sache... but I mean to rescue her and put that Dives six feet under the ground!" The sheriff's ghost pauses. "Well, lil' lady, yer story has moved me! Keep that star. I hope you get more use outta it than I did." >e Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see comatose Butch McCreedy here. >e Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster here. >d You don't have to worry about being bitten now, since you read that gila monsters take a full week to replenish their venom. You sneak past the drowsy gila monster and slip down the mineshaft. Mineshaft The mineshaft is a tunnel of natural stone, supported by wooden arches and lit by flickering carbide lamps. Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. Hand-painted signs hung at intervals warn DANGER!! BLASTING AREA!!! and KEEP OUT!! The cavern continues to the EAST or you can return UP to the surface. You can see Gabby and a miner's lamp here. "Thar's a rich vein of snake oil in these caves," says Gabby, "An' ain't no claim jumper gonna get the drop on ol' Gabby!" >give star (to Gabby) Gabby doesn't seem interested. >u Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster here. >w Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see comatose Butch McCreedy here. >n Veranda You're at the wrap-around veranda in front of a stately Italianate villa. The villa's foyer is accessible to the NORTH. The garden is to the EAST, the yard is to the WEST. You can see Femme McCreedy and Nightmare here. Femme brushes a hand against Nightmare's back. The horse snorts in response. >save Ok. >* Good joke! That's not a verb I recognise. >x femme Femme McCreedy is a petite dandy with a dapper waistcoat and fashionable bowler. Femme runs their fingers though Nightmare's mane. >x nightmare Nightmare is a massive black stallion, rippling with muscles. He snorts dismissively whenever he looks at you. Femme adjusts the brim of their bowler hat. >l Veranda You're at the wrap-around veranda in front of a stately Italianate villa. The villa's foyer is accessible to the NORTH. The garden is to the EAST, the yard is to the WEST. You can see Femme McCreedy and Nightmare here. >e garden The garden is a small plot of land used for growing vegetables for the house, but very little seems to be ready for harvest right now. The veranda is to the WEST, the tarantula stall is to the NORTH. You can see some carrots here. >x carrots High concentrations of snake oil in the soil seem to have caused odd mutations in these carrots. They're twisted and knobby and pulsating with a faintly ominous orange glow... but they're loaded with insane levels of super vitamin A to help you see in the dark. >take it You pick the carrots. >eat it They're probably really healthy, but... you just don't trust them what with the way they're glowing. >n Stall The stall is a small building for housing livestock. The garden is to the SOUTH. You can see a tarantula here. The tarantula flexes her pedipalps. >x tarantula She's a cranky old dairy tarantula the size of a cow, with eight big hairy legs and a pair of swollen spinnerets. You're not the biggest fan of spider milk, but it's apparently pretty popular in these parts. The tarantula flexes her legs. >talk to it You can only do that to something animate. >milk it You can't milk that, ya greenhorn! >x spinnerets You can't see any such thing. >milk tarantula You reach under the tarantula and squeeze its spinnerets until milk shoots out. Eventually, you've filled a whole bucket with tarantula milk. >x milk A bucket of silky smooth bluish-white tarantula milk. The tarantula regards you with her eight black eyes. >s garden The garden is a small plot of land used for growing vegetables for the house, but very little seems to be ready for harvest right now. The veranda is to the WEST, the tarantula stall is to the NORTH. >w Veranda You're at the wrap-around veranda in front of a stately Italianate villa. The villa's foyer is accessible to the NORTH. The garden is to the EAST, the yard is to the WEST. You can see Femme McCreedy and Nightmare here. Femme brushes a hand against Nightmare's back. The horse snorts in response. >w Yard The yard is a barren stretch of real estate where the judge's sentences are carried out; a grim gallows stands silent testament to that. The veranda is to the EAST, the knacker shed is to the NORTH. You can see a gallows here. >x gallows Many a man has lost his life on the long drop here. >n knacker shed This is a small detached shed used for slaughtering horses and processing their carcasses into glue and horse paste. The red-stained walls are smeared with glue and oil and various nasty looking metal implements dangle from hooks on the ceiling. You need to find Sugar & Sache before she meets the same fate! You can see some sugar cubes here. >take cubes You pocket the sugar cubes. >x hooks You can't see any such thing. >x cubes Compressed cubes of sweet refined sugar. >s Yard The yard is a barren stretch of real estate where the judge's sentences are carried out; a grim gallows stands silent testament to that. The veranda is to the EAST, the knacker shed is to the NORTH. You can see a gallows here. >e Veranda You're at the wrap-around veranda in front of a stately Italianate villa. The villa's foyer is accessible to the NORTH. The garden is to the EAST, the yard is to the WEST. You can see Femme McCreedy and Nightmare here. Femme glares at you with arched eyebrows and pursed lips. >give cubes Whom do you want to give the sugar cubes to? >nightmare Nightmare doesn't seem interested. >x femme Femme McCreedy is a petite dandy with a dapper waistcoat and fashionable bowler. >talk to femme "So looks like you got past my twin, huh?" says Femme McCreedy. "You must be smarter than you look, kid." "Butch wanted a contest," you say. "And I won, fair and square." Sort of. "Butch never could resist a bet," says Femme McCreedy. "But Butch's problem was making bets they could lose. I don't have that problem." "Sounds like you might be game for a wager too," you say. "Might be." >g "Ok kid, I'll make you a wager," says Femme McCreedy. "Butch is a drinker, I'm a rider. Ain't no one who can outride me, especially not when I got Nightmare here. He's the fastest stallion in the southwest territories! You think you can outlast me, I'll let you past." "Ok, but what horse do I ride?" you ask. "Ain't my problem," says Femme McCreedy. "But when you find one, you come back here and we'll have real riding contest, old west style." >g "Ok kid, I'll make you a wager," says Femme McCreedy. "Butch is a drinker, I'm a rider. Ain't no one who can outride me, especially not when I got Nightmare here. He's the fastest stallion in the southwest territories! You think you can outlast me, I'll let you past." "Ok, but what horse do I ride?" you ask. "Ain't my problem," says Femme McCreedy. "But when you find one, you come back here and we'll have real riding contest, old west style." >s Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see comatose Butch McCreedy here. >s Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >e Cantina The jangled tinny sounds of the pianola mingle with the grumbles and shouts of unruly patrons as you step through the batwing doors; the thick miasma of tobacco smoke nearly chokes you. A chalk menu behind the bar titled "PICK YER POISON" lists all the drinks for sale, although it appears that a drink called "COFFIN VARNISH" has been hastily and poorly rubbed out. An ornery gaggle of roughnecks and ne'er-do-wells slump against the bar and, at a table in the far corner, you see a group of gamblers deeply immersed in a card game. The walls are covered in ornate cuckoo clocks, each one set to a different time. To your surprise, you notice a number of mangy coyotes skulking around the room, each carefully balancing a platter full of whiskey shots on its head. Oh. Apparently they're the servers? You can go WEST to the plaza. You can go UP to a private room. You can see La Muerte here. The pianola pauses briefly as the song comes to a close before it begins again. >w Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. >ne Stable The stable is a building where travellers can shelter their horses while they stay in town. It's filled with hay and a decidely horsey smell. You can go SOUTHWEST to the plaza. You can see Wildfire here. >give cubes to wildfire "Hey girl, you want some sugar?" you say, holding out some cubes flat in your palms of your hand. Wildfire swishes her tail and brays before slurping up your offering. She looks at you expectantly and you suspect that you've just earned Wildfire's friendship for life. She'd follow you anywhere now! >ride her You can't see 'her' (nothing) at the moment. >ride wildfire Maybe later. You would never ride any horse except your beloved Sugar & Sache!! Well, not if you could help it. A mule might be okay... But if you're gonna ride Wildfire, you'd need a good reason first. >sw Plaza This sorry, dusty lot is what passes for a town plaza in Santa Diablo; it's little more than a dried-up fountain at the center of an empty field. Standing next to the fountain is a brightly-painted medicine wagon. To the EAST, you can hear the jangled discordant sounds of a pianola, that essential saloon instrument, drifting through the batwing doors of the Cantina de la Muerte. To the WEST, you see a dilapidated building identified by its sign as the Sheriff's Office. To the SOUTH, you see the Happy Hunting Ground Mortuary. To the SOUTHWEST, you see the Jade Monkey Laundry. To the SOUTHEAST, you see the Santa Diablo post office. To the NORTHEAST, you see a stable. To the NORTH, you can see a dirt path snaking off into the hills. You can also go IN to the medicine wagon. You can see Ulysses P Hornswaggle and a sandwich board here. Wildfire trots after you. >n Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see comatose Butch McCreedy here. Wildfire trots after you. >n Veranda You're at the wrap-around veranda in front of a stately Italianate villa. The villa's foyer is accessible to the NORTH. The garden is to the EAST, the yard is to the WEST. You can see Femme McCreedy and Nightmare here. Wildfire trots after you. >ride wildfire Maybe later. You would never ride any horse except your beloved Sugar & Sache!! Well, not if you could help it. A mule might be okay... But if you're gonna ride Wildfire, you'd need a good reason first. Wildfire's belly rumbles, a low wet gurgling sound. >give chili Whom do you want to give the pot of chili to? >wildfire "Hey girl, I bet you're hungry," you say, holding out the pot of chili. Wildfire plunges her snout into the pot and gobbles the whole kit and kaboodle so fast that you barely have time to react. By the time she's done, her sides are bulging even more. You can hear her bloated guts churning and bubbling. Damnit, why'd you do that? She'll be slower than ever with a belly full of chili... or will she? >i You are carrying: some sugar cubes a bucket of milk some carrots a tin star a numismatic charm some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >give milk to wildfire Wildfire doesn't seem interested. Wildfire raises her tail and farts. Femme brushes a hand against Nightmare's back. The horse snorts in response. >talk to femme "Ok, Femme McCreedy, I'm calling you out!" you say. "I got my steed... let's ride!" Femme McCreedy grins widely. "Oh, is that old Wildfire? No way that little butterball can outrun my Nightmare, but it's your funeral. We'll ride to the end of the veranda -- first to make it there and back is the winner!" "You're on!" Femme hops on Nightmare, you hop on Wildfire. And you're off! Femme has an early lead on Nightmare, but then suddenly -- Wildfire releases an explosive round of flatulence, so violent that mule and rider are propelled forward in a rush. Femme goggles as you suddenly lap them and arrive back at the start with time to spare. "Dang, guess you beat me," says Femme, shaking their head. "I never would have believed it!" "So I can go in?" "Sure, sure, a bet's a bet," says Femme. You watch as they lead Nightmare away, but you've got more important things to worry about. You're about to finally confront the judge. Wildfire swishes her tail. >l Veranda You're at the wrap-around veranda in front of a stately Italianate villa. The villa's foyer is accessible to the NORTH. The garden is to the EAST, the yard is to the WEST. You can see Wildfire here. Wildfire's belly rumbles, a low wet gurgling sound. >n Wildfire brays and stamps her hoof, but refuses to follow you inside. Looks like this is as far as she'll go. Foyer The foyer is an opulent atrium, designed to impress guests upon first entering the mansion. The veranda is to the SOUTH, the parlour is to the NORTH. You can see a grandfather clock here. >save Ok. >x clock It's a massive stately grandfather clock, its pendulum swinging lugubriously with the passage of seconds. How odd. When you look at the face of the clock, you're having trouble making out the numbers. There are the usual 12, but then, somehow.. there's a 13... and a 14... and a 15... Defying all reason, the numbers seem to spiral into infinity even though the clockface instead is a finite circle. Staring at it too long gives you a headache. >open clock It isn't something you can open. >x face You can't see any such thing. >n Parlour The parlour is a spacious room commonly used for entertaining, but it's apparent that Judge Dives uses it for business as well. In theory, this seems to be where he hears cases as the room is filled with massive towering stacks of paperwork and legal files... but the yellowed appearance of the paper and thick cobwebbing indicates that the judge doesn't have a lot of interest in actually discharging his legal duties. The foyer is to the SOUTH. You can see Judge Lazarus Dives and Sugar & Sache here. The judge stretches and crosses his legs. You step into the parlour and see, seated before you, the massive form of Judge Lazarus Dives. And seated right next to him... Sugar & Sache! "Judge Dives, I'm here to take back what's mine!" you announce. "You gimmie my horse back or I'll take you down!" "Well, well, if it isn't the Horse Girl," laughs Dives. "Maybe you haven't been informed, little lady, but I've got myself a little arrangement with Old Scratch himself that I can't be killed by any man* born of woman!" "I ain't no -" "Yeah, well, obviously. Of course, I meant "man" in the sense of "person." Didn't ya see that asterik? Clearly that includes womanfolk and non-binary galoots as well. I ain't gonna sign no contract with such an obvious loophole! I am a judge, after all. I know a little bit 'bout how the law works, I reckon." >* LOL That's not a verb I recognise. >talk to judge "Well well well, isn't this something," says the judge, leaning back in his ratton chair and folding his hands behind his head. "Ain't this a purty picture? You come ta visit me, girl? Ain't that sweet." >x horse It's your beloved horse, Sugar and Sache! Sugar and Sache is a sweet-natured chestnut mare and your trusty travelling companion... at least she WAS until the judge kidnapped her. You long to ride her across the prarie again! >pet horse Dives chuckles as he blocks you from petting your beloved Suagar & Sache. Oooo! You hate him SO much! >ride horse "I don't think so, missy," say Dives, placing a hand in front of Sugar & Sache. "She's my horse now. Only I ride her now." >talk to judge "Well well well, isn't this something," says the judge, leaning back in his ratton chair and folding his hands behind his head. "Ain't this a purty picture? You come ta visit me, girl? Ain't that sweet." >x judge Judge Lazarus Dives is a giant of a man, so tall that his head nearly touches the ceiling and so massive that he barely seems to fit into his rattan peacock chair. Even in his advancing years, his ropey physique and snowy white horsehoe mustache and locks remain striking. His thick neck is twice ringed with purple scars, reminders of the law's two unsuccessful attempts at hanging. He wears a white cotton suit and a length of rope tied into a noose around his neck. >x rope A length of hemp rope tied into a loose noose around the judge's neck, no doubt a souveneir of the many times that the law tried to hang him for his crimes. >take rope Dives laughs. "Ya want this old thing? Take it! Not that it'll do ya much good. If the law couldn't hang me with it, I doubt any puny varmint like you could do much better!" Chortling, he tears the noose from his neck and throws it to you. You catch it out of the air. "We'll see, Dives," you say. "We'll see." >i You are carrying: a rope some sugar cubes a bucket of milk some carrots a tin star a numismatic charm some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >s Foyer The foyer is an opulent atrium, designed to impress guests upon first entering the mansion. The veranda is to the SOUTH, the parlour is to the NORTH. You can see a grandfather clock here. >s Veranda You're at the wrap-around veranda in front of a stately Italianate villa. The villa's foyer is accessible to the NORTH. The garden is to the EAST, the yard is to the WEST. You can see Wildfire here. >s Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see comatose Butch McCreedy here. >w Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see a sheriff's ghost, an open grave and a pine box (in which is a cadaver) here. The sheriff's ghost bobs in the air. >w Church The nave of the church is a large, white-washed chamber, two rows of wooden pews flanking a central aisle marked by a threadbare red carpet. At first glance it looks like the pews are filled with parishioners, but on closer inspection you realize that they're all just scarecrows. A victrola carefully balanced on the rim of the pulpit spins a wax cylinder, playing the sounds of a choir singing hymns accompanied by organ music. A door to the WEST leads to the vestry. You can climb a ladder UP to the tower. Leaving the exit to the EAST would return you to the boneyard. You can see a victrola and a baptismal font here. >u Tower The ladder terminates in a belfry. You can go DOWN to the church. You can see a bell here. >tie rope to bell You would achieve nothing by this. >ring bell The bell has no bellrope, so you can't ring it. >put rope on bell Putting things on the bell would achieve nothing. >x rope A length of hemp rope. >ring bell with rope I only understood you as far as wanting to ring the bell. >x bell A large sanctus bell, inscribed with the epigraph "The sound of this bell vanquishes tempests, repels demons, and summons men." It would normally ring to signal the start of service, but it has no bellrope. You would need to hang a rope from the bell to fix that. >hang rope What do you want to hang the rope from? >bell You hang the rope from the bell's tongue. >* ugh That's not a verb I recognise. >ring bell You'll have to go down to the church and pull the bellrope from there to get the proper leverage. >d Church The nave of the church is a large, white-washed chamber, two rows of wooden pews flanking a central aisle marked by a threadbare red carpet. At first glance it looks like the pews are filled with parishioners, but on closer inspection you realize that they're all just scarecrows. A victrola carefully balanced on the rim of the pulpit spins a wax cylinder, playing the sounds of a choir singing hymns accompanied by organ music. A door to the WEST leads to the vestry. You can climb a ladder UP to the tower. Leaving the exit to the EAST would return you to the boneyard. You can see a bellrope, a victrola and a baptismal font here. >ring bell You can't see any such thing. >ring bellrope >pull bellrope You yank hard on the bellrope and your reward is the slow, lugubrious sound of the church bell tolling. At the sound, the parson emerges from the vestry. "The bell is ringing!" he cries. "Hallelujah!" You watch in confusion as he climbs into the pulpit and begins a sermon, addressing the crowd of dummies. A rattling cough briefly racks the parson's spindly body. The burlap bag drips a reddish brown fluid. >w Vestry The vestry is a small office, filled mostly with old leather-bound books in big messy piles. You can go EAST to the church. You can see a Bible (closed) here. >take bible With the parson gone, there's no one to stop you. You crack open the bible to discover...it's not a bible at all! The pages have been cut out to form a secret compartment, housing a shiny silver six-shooter. Well. That's more useful anyway! You holster the six-shooter. >open it You can't see 'it' (nothing) at the moment. >x shooter You can't see any such thing. >i You are carrying: a six-shooter some sugar cubes a bucket of milk some carrots a tin star a numismatic charm some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >x six-shootter You see nothing special about the six-shooter. >x it You see nothing special about the six-shooter. >* huh That's not a verb I recognise. >e Church The nave of the church is a large, white-washed chamber, two rows of wooden pews flanking a central aisle marked by a threadbare red carpet. At first glance it looks like the pews are filled with parishioners, but on closer inspection you realize that they're all just scarecrows. A victrola carefully balanced on the rim of the pulpit spins a wax cylinder, playing the sounds of a choir singing hymns accompanied by organ music. A door to the WEST leads to the vestry. You can climb a ladder UP to the tower. Leaving the exit to the EAST would return you to the boneyard. You can see a parson, a bellrope, a victrola and a baptismal font here. >bless That's not a verb I recognise. >put shooter in font You can't see any such thing. >put six-shooter in font That can't contain things. "And lo! When the prophet Josiah the Petulent went forth into the City of Getsohophatat with full five wagons of precious oils meant for the Temple of Bethlehaggaramat," thunders the parson. >e Boneyard The boneyard is a collection of rickety wooden crosses planted haphazardly amongst the dry gorse. A collapsing church stands to the WEST; you can hear the faint sounds of organ music and voices raised in song from within. The path is to the EAST. You can see a sheriff's ghost, an open grave and a pine box (in which is a cadaver) here. >talk to ghost The sheriff's ghost regards you with empty eye sockets. "Tell me again, Horse Girl, what'd Dives do to you that you want revenge so bad?" You take a deep breath. "I was an orphan," you say. "Never knew my real ma or my real pa. When I was just a pup, though, the horses of the plains took me in and raised me like one of their own. Sugar & Sache, she's everything to me - ma and pa and sister and brother. We lived a happy, carefree life on the prarie. Until Dives and his no-good gang of horse thieves ran through. They kidnapped Sugar & Sache... but I mean to rescue her and put that Dives six feet under the ground!" The sheriff's ghost pauses. "Well, lil' lady, yer story has moved me! Keep that star. I hope you get more use outta it than I did." The sheriff's ghost regards you with his empty eye sockets. >e Path A winding dirth path meanders into the barren foothills above town. To the NORTH, you can see a stately Italianate villa in the distance. To the WEST, you can see the rickety wooden crosses that indicate a boot hill graveyard. To the EAST, the path runs off into the distance. The plaza is to the SOUTH. You can see comatose Butch McCreedy here. >e Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster here. >n Ravine You're at the bottom of a deep ravine, bordered by steep rocky walls. The mine entrance is to the SOUTH. >s Mine Entrance The path terminates at the entrance of an old mine, carved into the side of a ravine. A cold breeze wafts up from the bowels of the earth through the mineshaft. You can go WEST to the path or DOWN the mineshaft. A ravine is to the NORTH. You can see a venom-drained gila monster here. >e You can't go that way. >d You don't have to worry about being bitten now, since you read that gila monsters take a full week to replenish their venom. You sneak past the drowsy gila monster and slip down the mineshaft. Mineshaft The mineshaft is a tunnel of natural stone, supported by wooden arches and lit by flickering carbide lamps. Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. Hand-painted signs hung at intervals warn DANGER!! BLASTING AREA!!! and KEEP OUT!! The cavern continues to the EAST or you can return UP to the surface. You can see Gabby and a miner's lamp here. >e campsite The eastern section of the cavern is an elevated plateau above the snake oil pool; Gabby has converted it into a make-shift campsite with a pup tent for sleeping and a small natural gas fumarole for warmth. The large number of empty tin cans attests that Gabby's diet mostly consists of beans. You can go WEST to the mineshaft or UP into a crevice. You can see some magnetic ore here. >u It's too dark to go in there. >eat carrots They're probably really healthy, but... you just don't trust them what with the way they're glowing. >i You are carrying: a six-shooter some sugar cubes a bucket of milk some carrots a tin star a numismatic charm some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >w Mineshaft The mineshaft is a tunnel of natural stone, supported by wooden arches and lit by flickering carbide lamps. Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. Hand-painted signs hung at intervals warn DANGER!! BLASTING AREA!!! and KEEP OUT!! The cavern continues to the EAST or you can return UP to the surface. You can see Gabby and a miner's lamp here. >give carrots (to Gabby) "Hey, would some carrots help you to see better in the dark?" you ask, holding out the mutated vegetables. "Galloping gophers, now that's what I need!" he cries, grabbing the carrots from you. "Ol' Gabby's gonna really rev up them ol' peepers with these consarnit! That's way better than any old lamp! Tell ya what, since ya got me these, you can take that old miner's lamp... if ya really want it so bad!" "Thanks," you say, grabbing the miner's lamp. "I think I could use this." >take lamp "Jest a cotton-picking minute there, lass! I need that thar light!" says Gabby. "If y'all want mah miner's lamp, at least have the decency ta bring me a replacement! >e campsite The eastern section of the cavern is an elevated plateau above the snake oil pool; Gabby has converted it into a make-shift campsite with a pup tent for sleeping and a small natural gas fumarole for warmth. The large number of empty tin cans attests that Gabby's diet mostly consists of beans. You can go WEST to the mineshaft or UP into a crevice. You can see some magnetic ore here. >w Mineshaft The mineshaft is a tunnel of natural stone, supported by wooden arches and lit by flickering carbide lamps. Pure liquid snake oil drips from the walls, congealing into a waist-deep pool that fills the cavern. Hand-painted signs hung at intervals warn DANGER!! BLASTING AREA!!! and KEEP OUT!! The cavern continues to the EAST or you can return UP to the surface. You can see Gabby here. Gabby's mech arm transforms into a drill and bores into the wall. >i You are carrying: a miner's lamp a six-shooter some sugar cubes a bucket of milk a tin star a numismatic charm some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >give carrots You can't see any such thing. >take light You don't want that. >take lamp "Jest a cotton-picking minute there, lass! I need that thar light!" says Gabby. "If y'all want mah miner's lamp, at least have the decency ta bring me a replacement! >g "Jest a cotton-picking minute there, lass! I need that thar light!" says Gabby. "If y'all want mah miner's lamp, at least have the decency ta bring me a replacement! >i You are carrying: a miner's lamp a six-shooter some sugar cubes a bucket of milk a tin star a numismatic charm some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >x carrots You can't see any such thing. >e campsite The eastern section of the cavern is an elevated plateau above the snake oil pool; Gabby has converted it into a make-shift campsite with a pup tent for sleeping and a small natural gas fumarole for warmth. The large number of empty tin cans attests that Gabby's diet mostly consists of beans. You can go WEST to the mineshaft or UP into a crevice. You can see some magnetic ore here. >u Crevice The crevice is a cramped, low space filled with thousands and thousands of bats, all clinging to the ceiling. They appear to be sleeping. You can go DOWN to the campsite. You can see some bats here. >x bats They appear to be Mexican free-tailed bats. >take bats You grab handful after handful of bats, dunking them into the milk bucket. They don't stay put, squeaking and shrieking and flapping and spraying milk everywhere... but hopefully a few dunks are enough to make the whole thing work. Eventually, the bats are so agitated that you have to drop back down into the campsite just to get away from them! campsite The eastern section of the cavern is an elevated plateau above the snake oil pool; Gabby has converted it into a make-shift campsite with a pup tent for sleeping and a small natural gas fumarole for warmth. The large number of empty tin cans attests that Gabby's diet mostly consists of beans. You can go WEST to the mineshaft or UP into a crevice. You can see some magnetic ore here. >i You are carrying: a miner's lamp a six-shooter some sugar cubes a bucket of milk a tin star a numismatic charm some coffin varnish a wax cylinder a shovel a horseshoe a booking ticket a poncho (being worn) a broadsheet a locket (being worn) a stetson hat (being worn) jeans (being worn) >x milk A bucket of silky smooth bluish-white tarantula milk. >* huh? That's not a verb I recognise. >