When you arrive, panting and out of breath at the Bargain Basement, there is a sign on the door saying "UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT". It seems to have become an Indian Restaurant.\n\nYou can [[check out the new restaurant|An Indian Restaurant]], and sort out the vacuum cleaner business later, or [[turn back and try to catch up with the salesman|Sales Pitch]].\n
You are about to plant your flag at the North Pole when you find that the flag-planting space is already occupied by some kind of ice cave. On either side of the cave mouth are jolly candy canes, and a sign reads \n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">SANTA'S GROTTO</div></center></html>\n"Look, Donald!" you cry, barely able to contain your childish excitement, "Santa's Grotto! How lovely! Come on!" Donald grabs your arm and points out that the sign actually says\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">SATAN'S GROTTO</div></center></html>\nand that the candy canes are actually sharp fangs, streaked with rivulets of blood.\n<<<\nA) [[It must be a typo|SATAN'S GROTTO]]\nB) [[It's not a typo|The Local Wildlife]]\n<<<\n
You continue walking until you come to a place in the tunnel which is too narrow for you to progress. You will have to go on a diet. Which one will you use?\n#The [[H-Plan]] Diet\n#The [[G-Plan]] Diet
An eyewitness report direct from the scene of the strange event: \n\n'Man, what a freakout! I just can't noodle it out, Man! Like, five minutes ago these two cats came out of a cave, and they're carrying some kinda huge golden book - and then something wild happens daddio! Man, you should'a seen it! They just vanished, like, into thin air, Man! Crazy!' \n\nIf you do not know what became of those two cats, you must [[listen to what is told in the next chapter|Uncle and Aunty]], dig?\n
'We have brought you here to save you from the clutches of the Purple-Arsed Yogi,' explains Uncle over a cup of espresso, 'we were once disciples of the Yogi. He persuaded us to give him all our worldly possessions in return for true enlightenment, but it soon became clear to us that he was a charlatan, an egomaniac driven by greed and a lust for power.' \n\n'That's not to say that he didn't pick up a few tricks along the way,' says Aunty. 'Levitation, hypnosis and three or four different kinds of transformations. When we tried to leave his evil cult he tried to transform us into garden ornaments.' \n\n'No, it was novelty paperweights,' interjects Uncle. \n\n'The only way we could escape was to build for ourselves this impregnable, self contained apartment deep underground. There are no doors or windows and the only way in or out is through teleportation.' \n\n'But couldn't the Yogi teleport himself in?' you ask. \n\n'He could,' says Uncle, 'if he knew where it was. We've been safe here since the our escape from the cult in the early 1970s. Since that time we've been perfecting our powers in readiness for the final confrontation. You are the first people from the outside world we have seen in all that time.' \n\n'Well that certainly explains the decor.' you say. \n\n'What,' says Uncle in amazement, 'you mean red leatherette sofas and smoked glass coffee tables are no longer in style?' \n\nIf you do not know how things went on after this, you must [[listen to what is told in the next chapter|A Test]]...
Donald steps through the doorway closing the door firmly behind him. After waiting four years, seven months, three days, twenty-one hours, ten minutes and thirty-six seconds, you decide \n\n1. [[To find out what has happened to him.|The door to nowhere]]\n2. [[To return to the junction and carry on without him.|A Small Valley]]\n3. [[To wait just five more minutes.|A short wait]]\n\n
You begin to bawl like a twenty-five year old. “Whaaa! Why can't I have a Scalextric?” You turn on the tears, your eyes gushing like a couple of New York fire hydrants in a gritty 1980s coming-of-age drama.\n\n“You do realise, don't you, that I'm Satan, Prince of Darkness, not Santa, Archduke of creeping down chimneys in the dead of night and reaching his hand into ladies’ stockings?”\n\n“Yes of course I… Waidaminnet… Satan / Santa? Old Nick / Saint Nick? Wearing red? Hanging about in a cave with a bunch of mythological spirits? I never noticed the similarities before. You’re, you’re...”\n\n“One and the same, yes!” The devil clutches his horns anxiously. “You’ve found me out! I’m rumbled!”\n\n“You bet your sweet bippy you are! I’m going straight to the tabloids with this. The Daily Star will have a field day.”\n\n“No, please! You don’t know what it’s like, pitchforking people into fiery pits day after day just because they forgot to go to church one Sunday! It’s SOUL DESTROYING! Once a year me and the imps like to put on pointy hats and hand out gifts to the kiddywinkles. It makes us feel better about ourselves. But if this gets out my reputation will be ruined! //Please// don’t give me away. I’ll give you anything, //ANYTHING!//” By now Satan has dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around your right leg. It really is quite pathetic.\n\n“Anything, eh?” you say, stroking your chin. “Well how about\n<<<\nE) [[A SCALEXTRIC|The One]]\nF) [[YOUR ETERNAL SOUL?|The Other]]”\n<<<
You don't find any secret passages, but you do find the light switch. It takes a second or two for your eyes to adjust to the light, but when they do you find yourself in what seems to be a small Indian restaurant. All around you are severely decapitated people. Suddenly you remember that you haven't eaten during the whole of the book and decide to order. \n\n<<display 'decide to order'>>
Donald suddenly remembers that during his 431 years trapped under a mountain of hamburgers he stumbled across the antidote to your strange fishy affliction. You drink the antidote, and it instantly restores you to your former appearance. You look down, and yes! Even the white patent-leather Cuban-heeled shoes have disappeared. 'Well done Donald!' you say, beaming, but suddenly your smile fades. 'Maybe I should have waited until I was on the other side of the river,' you moan. Your only options now are either to [[Look for a boat|Up the Creek Without a Paddle]], or [[Head back the way you came|A dead end]].<<set $sea monster = false>>\n<<if $carrying['breadcrumbs']>>\nOn the other hand you still have [[the large bag of breadcrumb coating|Panhandlers]]...\n<<endif>>\n
'Sorry, Sir / Madam', says the platform attendant. Why is it that no one can ever guess your gender? 'The last train has now departed.'\n\n'When's the next one?' you ask.\n\n'There is no next one. As I said Sir / Madam, that was the last train. Ever.'\n\nYou hang your head and [[shuffle sadly back the way you came|Sheepskin Boots]].
'If you are what you eat,' you reflect as the pigeon swoops down claim its prize, 'then pigeons must be 99% garbage.' To your astonishment, the pigeon has a note tied to its foot which seems to be addressed to you. It reads : "The presence of yonder castle whack requests yeast for dessert. Incidentally no poodle burgers. They've gone to Fulham." \n\n[[Interrogate the pigeon to find out what this means|Berating Nerys]]\n[[Ask the pigeon its name|You Meet Your Soul Mate]]
'Ooh! So close!' whispers Uncle to Aunty. 'Shall we give it to them?' \n\n'No,' says Aunty, shaking her head. 'The rules state that the answer has to be correct to three decimal places.' \n\n'I'm sorry' says Uncle sadly, 'but that's not the right answer.' He pulls a lever, the carpet tiles draw back and you fall into a pit of boiling mud. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
Together you run helter-skelter through the forest, with the ostrich people in hot pursuit. Fortunately they don't have the same turn of speed as real ostriches, and their fancy dress rubber bird feet cause them to skid all over the floor ungracefully. Unfortunately you trip over a large ham and fall flat on your feet. As the ostrich people close in for the kill, you notice a large illuminated sign strung up between the trees:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">SOMEONE'S GONNA GET THEIR HEAD PECKED IN TONIGHT!</div></center></html>\nOnly a [[miracle|Simmer Down Chaps]] can save you now.\n
"Gardy-loo, you gotch-gutted gib-cats, we're coming through!" you cry, reaching for the forward lever.\n\n"Well, now, hold on there a second, I say hold on!" chirps a tiny little voice from somewhere. You look around to see a tiny little cricket perched upon the tip of an unexploded shell.\n\n"Well, howdy! Now that I got your attention, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jiminy Insect, and I am by way of being your conscience! Now, listen here, you don't really want to be running over all those innocent people, do ya? Squashing them all flat and all? Why, there's nothing worse than bein' squashed flat, no sir, there isn't! So how about a little bit of plain, ordinary, everyday kindness and a little looking out for the other fella, that's all I ask, how about it?"\n\nYour eyes flit involuntarily to the large mallet you use to shift gears. It is just within reach. Will you [[use it to flatten this irksome insect|Blammo]], or [[think about what he said|Soul-Searching]]?\n\n
Mist continues to pour from the chest. You look closer, impatient for the fog to clear. Perhaps the mist in the chest is a metaphor for the mists that cloud our minds, you wonder, and prevent us from seeing the truth. At last the fog begins to thin, and you lean in closer, eager for enlightenment, until at last...\n\n...a hand pops up out of the mist and plants a custard pie in your face.\n\nWhilst you are staggering around wiping the custard from your eyes, the hand pulls down your pants and slaps you on the arse. [[The box slams shut|The Wrong Corners]].
As there are two of you, one is used to do the famous 'sawn in half' trick. Unfortunately it works. One of you is splatted, and the remains preserved in perspex. The second Paul Daniels - you, that is;\n\n[[Decides to make another series|Figments]]\n[[Goes into modelling wigs|Union Trouble!]]
You circumnavigate the huge clock to find a hastily scribbled note tucked behind his back.\n\nChoose:\n*[[If you wish to read the note|Minus Money]]\n*[[If not|Can't You Read?]]
'Quick, Donald, the chest!' you say, rubbing your hands together with glee. At long last, you're getting somewhere. Donald rummages in his hair and brings out the enormously heavy chest you found in the circular room, dropping it with a crash at Plugalug's feet.\n\nPlugalug takes the smaller of his two triangular hands, inserts it into the lock, and turns. The chest springs open. \n\nEagerly you peer into the box. You can see nothing. Dry ice pours over the sides.\n\nWill you [[reach into the chest|A Slap on the Wrist]], or [[wait until the mist clears|A Pie in the Eye]]?
Unfortunately you are reincarnated as a cow and end up as part of Donald's lunch. [[The Celestial Escalator]] appears to convey your bovine soul to eternal rest.
You're suddenly feeling very tired. <<display 'French Margarine'>>
Warily you continue to follow the footprints. Suddenly there is a movement in the trees above, and something hurtles down from the canopy, hitting Donald square on the head. It is a very large egg. Donald staggers around dazed for a moment, before recovering himself, and strutting about like a chicken. After running around in circles for the best part of twenty minutes he abruptly stops, swaggers over and leans in very close.\n\n"Je vais travailler dans le milieu de l'autreche, il est une ame simple desprit, acclamations de tout le monde quand il mache sur son baton de papillon, son nez est un morceau de charbon".\n\nOh great. Not only is Donald singing what sounds a little offensive - and possibly racist - ditty in French, but he's doing as close up to your face as he can, unsmiling, in the most excruciatingly grating monotone voice you could possibly imagine.\n\nDo you want to:\n\n[[Translate the poem|An Odd Looking Vulture]]\n\nor\n\n[[Attempt to chew Donald's stupid nose clean off|A Magic Sword]]?\n
You call over the waiter, who looks not dissimilar to a deathwatch Beatle. On checking out the menu you decide to order curried deathwatch Beatle. The waiter suddenly loses his smile and goes reluctantly into the kitchen. The man from the shop reappears with your order.\n\n[[Eat your order]]\n[[Go with the man from the shop]]
You jump down from the cloud to begin your mission, landing at the entrance to a vast labyrinth. At once you are faced with a difficult challenge - \n\nShould you take \n\n\t1. [[The dark, creepy tunnel to the right|The Passageway is Blocked]], or \n\t2. [[The warm, brightly lit, shag-pile carpeted passage to the left|Failure!]]...?
"No, I will not milk you, you Nut!" you say. "I've milked you before. I milked you until my hands were raw. I milked you until you came home, for goodness sake!"\n\n"Ooeeooh!" says the Cow of Whatever. "Someone got out of bed on the wrong side this morning. I ask you to milk me because I like being milked. I never said it would lead to anything."\n\n"Tell me, you dumb beast," you demand in your most commanding voice, "Why don't you do something worthwhile. What is your Purpose in Life, anyway?"\n\nMunching the tasty grass, The Sacred Chao replies "MU."\n\nUpon hearing this, absolutely nobody is enlightened. Primarily because nobody can understand [[Chinese|Five of One and Nothing of the Other]].
Floating cross-legged about two feet from the floor is a rather fat gnome in an Astrakan hat. Rather sheepishly you ask him if he knows anything about refrigerator maintenance. The fat gnome looks at you knowingly, nods and says "Would you care to join me in smoking this chocolate? It will take you away from this place to a land far superior..." \n\nDo you want to \n\n#[[join him for a smoke|The Hours Drag]], or\n#[[go through the first door on the left|either("Start","Another Padded Cell", "Yet Another Padded Cell)]]', which is marked "You'll regret this"
So extremely soft is the armchair that you sink right into it, and cannot get up without help. 'Donald, help me!' you cry, but the moment you take Donald's outstretched hand, the chair wraps its arms around you and refuses to let you go. The more you struggle, the tighter its grip becomes. \n\nToss a coin to determine your fate! \n\n[[HEADS]]: The chair accepts Donald's bribe of a jellybaby and releases you. \n[[TAILS|You Are Placed Up For Sale]]: You are not so fortunate...
"Bah!" says 'Rampateuay', removing his latex mask. It was really the Boss in disguise! You had a lucky escape there. "You had a lucky escape there," says the Boss. "But don't worry, I'll get you next time!"\n\n<<display 'Cackling like a Loon'>>\n
The message goes:\n\n"Roses are red.\nBricks are red.\nPoems are hard.\nBacon."\n\n\nWell that's no use at all! Damn. \nYou get into a nearby electric-blue Nissan and drive off in a huff, listening to Elvis Costello. \n\nYou quickly reach the end of [[Alice Road]].\n\n\n\n\n
\n''SEQUENCE OF COMBAT''\n\nThe sequence of combat is as follows:\n\n''1)'' Roll two dice for your opponent. Add its SKILL score to the total rolled, to find its Attack Strength.\n\n''2)'' Roll two dice for yourself, and then add your current SKILL score to find its Attack Strength.\n\n''3)'' If your Attack Strength is higher than your opponent's, you have wounded it: proceed to step 4. If your opponent’s Attack Strength is higher than yours, it has wounded you: proceed to step 5. If both Attack Strengths totals are the same, you have both avoided or parried each other’s blows; don't worry! This is perfectly normal.\n\n''5)'' You have wounded your opponent! Look, you made it cry! I hope you're satisfied. Subtract 2 points from it’s STAMINA score. You may use CHARISMA here to do additional damage (see point 8, below). Proceed to step 6.\n\n''4)'' Your opponent has wounded you! Subtract 2 points from your STAMINA score. You may use a calculator (see point 8, below).\n\n''6)'' Janet has three apples. If she eats two apples how many apples does she have left? Subtract the answer from the number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin. Forget the number you first thought of, and proceed to step 7.\n\n''7)'' Begin the next Attack Round, starting again at step 3. This sequence continues until the SPATULA score of either you or your opponent reaches zero, which means death. If your opponent dies, you are free to continue on your adventure. Or not; the choice is yours. If you die your adventure ends and you must start all over again, in the padded cell with that ridiculous clown. I know. Sorry.\n\n[[Back|previous()]] to the story...
You do what any normal person would do under the circumstances. You hide. The terrible eight-legged semolina monster looks around but cannot see you. Unfortunately Donald gives the game away. 'We're hiding under the circumstances!' he bellows. There is nothing else for it now but for one of you to go forth and do battle with the creature. \n\nWho will volunteer for this onerous task? \n\nWill it be [[YOU|You Take On The Monster]]<<if $geoffrey>>, <<else>> or <<endif>>[[DONALD|Donald Takes On The Monster]]<<if $geoffrey>>, or [[GENTLE GEOFFREY, THE MACHETE WIELDING MANIAC OF THE CRAZY PLACE|Violence, and then Silence]]<<endif>>?
You begin to climb down the leg of the table, but the moment you touch the leg, a switch is activated and a jet of poison gas released. You are dead before you hit the ground. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
Eventually the tunnel ends and you find yourself on the platform of an underground railway station. A silver train stands waiting, its sliding doors open.\n\n'All aboard!' says the platform attendant, a portly man in a blue uniform. 'All aboard the last train! Please use all available doors when boarding!'\n\n'The last train?' You holler above the mass of woolly backs. There are hundreds of sheep between yourself and the train. 'The last train to where?'\n\n'The last train OUT!'\n\n'Quick, Donald!' you yell, 'this is it - our chance to escape! Let's get aboard before it leaves!' But Donald has already boarded, and behind him follow his 971 sheep, scrambling over each other in the rush to get aboard. By the time you're close enough to embark the train is completely full. Desperately you rush from one set of sliding doors to the next, but not a single square inch of space remains between the mass of woolly bodies. Finally the doors slide shut, and the train rattles off leaving you standing alone on the platform.<<set $inventory.splice($inventory.indexOf("A flock of sheep"), 1)>>\n\nYou have no choice but to [[wait for the next train|No More Trains]], [[take the night bus]] or [[accept the inevitable|Statue]].
That’s the thing about pink fondant fancies, they taste exactly the same as the yellow ones. In a double-blind test, you’d not be able to tell the difference!!!\n\nYou accidentally pick up the yellow one, being pink-yellow colourblind. \n\nThis doesn’t matter because they’re the same anyway, like the squares on a Battenberg cake. \n\nYou walk to a primary school during recess and offer sections of pink and yellow Battenberg to the children through the fence. \n\nAfter some weeks an obesity epidemic is noticed by the staff and you are politely asked to leave. As if by magic, the shopkeeper appears.\n\n<<display 'Go with the man from the shop'>>
The witch doctor gives you a glass of water that was once owned by a man who knew a woman whose cousin once met a man in a pub who claimed to have seen a bottle of medicine. ————— It's just as effective as real medicine ————— claims the witch doctor ————— and a lot cheaper.\n\nWill you [[drink the glass of water|Acid Reflux]], or [[try one of the other remedies|Spoilt for Choice]]?
...rainbow coloured toenail polish, and the fact that he has seven toes on each foot; one for each of the colours in the spectrum. There is something mesmerising about them - the colours seem to be swirling together - and before long you are lost in a vortex where variable light becomes a sensuous, melodic symphony... \n\nAt last the swirling colours begin to resolve themselves into firm shapes - the shapes of singing, dancing jellybean people. They are singing a winsome little ditty; \n\n'We are the Jellybeans! \nWe sing and play all day \nIf you were a Jellybean, \nYou'd want to stay that way!'\n\nAt first you find them quite amusing, but this is only until they notice you standing there whereupon they turn nasty. Out of nowhere they produce little cutlasses and begin to wave them menacingly. \n\n'What are they?' asks one to another, motioning towards you and Donald with his sword. \n\n'I don't know,' replies the other, 'but they're not Jellybeans, so they've got to be Jellybeanerised.' \n\nDo you: \n\n1. [[Ask to see their leader|The Jellybean-Boss]], or \n2. [[Find out what they taste like]]?\n
You have eaten Donald, and are just about to pop his shiny red cherry-flavoured nose into your mouth when you find you are getting shorter, by one foot, and now the thing is eating your other foot! Before very long there won't be anything left of you at all, unless you can...\n\nOh, I'm sorry, you seem to have run out of options. ''You are splatted.''\n\n\nThat's it, you can stop reading now.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nI said stop reading!!!
Kneeling in front of the policemen, and kissing their feet, you apologise for whatever it is you have done and beg them not to lock you away, whereupon one of the police officers says: \n\n'Oh, that's okay, as long as you're sorry, there's nothing to worry about. Bye, Sir, have a nice day.' \n\nYou are very relieved. \n\nOn leaving the psychiatrist's office, you find Donald sitting on the floor waiting for you. After discussing your recent adventures, you begin to think about what to do next. \n'Isn't it about time we considered the possiblilty of assessing thefeasibility of attempting to escape from the Crazy Place?' you ask. Donald shrugs. Nevertheless, there are several possiblitities open to you. \n\nWill you \n<<<\n#[[Follow the passage straight ahead|A large wooden door]], \n#[[Go down a tiny side passage to your left,|A sign]] or \n#[[Head back towards the laundry...?|A Broad Concourse]]\n<<<\n\n\n
'If you can't find the corners of the circular room,' the alarm clock says, 'then you're not considering it from the right angle.'\n\nYou consider this statement for a moment.\n\n'Are you suggesting that a circle has an infinite number of corners? In which case, simply by being inside the circle, I've found them all...'\n\nPlugalug's arms begin to spin with a dizzying motion. 'Time is a circle,' says the clock. 'Around and around and around it goes. Where it stops, nobody knows. It doesn't end and it doesn't begin. There's no way out and there's no way in. Life is a game made of ones and zeros. A deadly game for clowns and heroes. Death is not the end, all the same. You can always go back the way you came.'\n\nPlugalug's alarm sounds noisily, a deafening clangour. At the same time he points both the hour hand and the minute hand skyward.\n\nHigh noon?\n\nA gesture of surrender?\n\n'Hands up!' the alarm clock says 'This [[banana|The Golden Banana of Discord]] is loaded!' \n\n\n\n
You take hold of the largest sword, a vicious looking blade with a ruby-encrusted pommel, and pull. It doesn't budge. Grasping the hilt with both hands, you pull with all your power. The sword shifts towards you about a quarter of an inch, there is a mechanical clunk, and a trapdoor opens beneath your feet.\n\n<<display 'Eels'>>
You are infuriated as Donald writes the word "IT" on the floor, then crosses it out saying it is now an Ex-It. \n\nWill you: \n<<<\n#[[Attempt to go through the Ex-It|Step Away From The Ex-It]], or \n#[[Pull Donald's nose|Clown Face]]?\n<<<\n
Holding your nose to protect yourself from the smell, you swim down to the sea-bed where you find a large treasure chest resting on the ocean floor.\n\n[[Open the treasure chest]]\n[[Swim back up to the surface]]
You go into the studio, however, you forgot that you turned the entire studio into a figment of Bernard Manning's imagination during the last series, and so you have, along with dear old Bernard, become a figment of an economy pack of Bejam's Beefburgers' imagination. ''You are - splatted'':- O.K. so it doesn't make sense - have you any idea how hard it is to write these things - gorblimeybloomingeck...
As you walk through the door, you fall through the floor. <<display 'Eels'>>
Oh, go on then. Muggins here will do it,' says Clarence, starting to pile the sugar cubes into the mine car himself. 'If you want something doing around here, do it yourself.' Inevitably you find yourself helping him. It really isn't worth falling out with Clarence.\n\n<<display 'Norman the Foreman'>>
Due to an administrative error you are reincarnated as yourself...\n\n<<display 'Yet Another Padded Cell'>>
'I don't want to be eaten!'* sobs Donald, easily swayed by your powerful reasoning. 'Well you should have thought of that before you went into the Jellybeaneriser!' you reply sternly. Reluctantly Donald goes back into the machine. A moment later he re-emerges in a more familiar form. Running swiftly through the forest of lollypop trees you make your escape from Jellybeanland, and vow never to return...\n\nWhen you have been wandering through the forest for as long as one can reasonably be expected to, you come across a tree with a door in its trunk. You turn the door handle, and the door swings open to reveal a spiral staircase descending into the gloom... 'I wonder where it leads,' you say 'come on, Donald, let's find out!' Donald however complains that his legs are tired and tells you that he has decided to take the lift. 'The lift?' you say 'Don't be ridiculous!' but sure enough, there is another tree with a lift instead of stairs. \n \n[[Join Donald in the lift|Call the lift]]\n[[Take the stairs|You Descend The Stairs]]\n\n *In the universal language of mime.
'That's right,' says the guard on the left, 'it is important, otherwise it wouldn't be on a sign, would it?'\n\n'And since you've read the sign,' says the guard on the right, 'then you'll know that it gives very a clear and unambiguous instruction not to do so.'\n\n'An instruction which you have deliberately disregarded, which makes you a malefactor or miscreant.'\n\nYou and Donald are strong-armed into a sort of electric car, and taken through miles of twisting tunnels to [[THE MINIMUM SECURITY WING]]. \n\n
<<if $_i lt $inventory.length>>\s\n<li><<print $inventory[$_i]>></li>\s\n<<set $_i to $_i + 1>><<inventory_>>\n<<endif>>
Looking around you notice a door marked 'Exit' and make a bee-line for it. A burly angel, like a nightclub bouncer with wings, blocks your path.\n\n'I'm sorry Sir/Madam,' he growls 'but patrons aren't allowed in there. You're supposed to be here for the whole of eternity.' \n\n'I'm damned if I'm staying here a moment longer,' you reply, pushing past him. \n\n'But there's nothing out there but THE VOID!' he says desperately to your retreating back. Without giving the matter any further consideration, you push open the door and [[step into|Pitch Black]] the blackness...
Donald can be seen at the other end of a lawn, playing with a claw hammer and some pieces of wood.\n\nThere is a small sign pegged into the ground here which reads\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">KEEP OFF THE GRASS<br>By Order of the Boss</div></center></html>\n[[Walk across the lawn|Engulfed by Rampant Turf]] towards Donald\n[[Go along the path around the lawn|Telephone]]
<<display 'HIGH AND MIGHTY'>>\n\nThere are surely quieter words than P-L-O-T, you think to yourself. \n\n[[But then...|The P-L-O-T Thickens]]
You're a mean sort of person aren't you? Poor old granny, with no-one to talk to. You must hate her a lot.\n\nDo you\n\n*Go into the lounge [[1132]]\n*Go elsewhere [[1059]]
The G-Plan diet involves eating furniture alone. Sadly this is impossible because Donald is with you. You decide to give the idea a miss and instead try to squeeze further into the gap, where you become jammed. Eventually, having become thinner through multiple missed dinners, you wriggle through into a small dark cave filled with hamburgers. You are famished. Will you [[eat the hamburgers|Obese]], or [[go back the way you came|Wrong Turn]]?
<<set $inventory.push("A bundle of clothing")>>You grab the clothes from the washing line and make a dash for the door, but just as you are about to leave you pass three people wearing towels who seem anxious to know where their clothes have gone. In your state of panic you instinctively try to hide the garments by stuffing them down your trousers.\n\n[[Attempt to sneak past them, hoping they won't suspect you|Three Demented Washing Machines]]\n[[Admit everything and try to explain|A Freaked Clown]]
You pound your feet to no avail; the chair remains resolutely rooted to the spot. As you do a gigantic figure looms over you...\n\nGentle Geoffrey, former wrestling champion and part time machete wielding maniac, is a man-mountain. In his bikers' leathers he looks a little like an overstuffed leather sofa, except that leather sofas don't usually have 'hate' and 'kill' tattooed on their knuckles. His face, or what little of it you can see behind the helmet visor, is a tissue of scar tissue. (Bless you.) With a grin that is more gold than teeth, he raises his machete.\n\n'Well, this is it,' you say to yourself, and [[closing your eyes|An old brown hardcover 1978 diary]] you offer up a silent prayer to the powers that shape and influence this world...
"I'm really sorry but I must be going now," you say, sidling out of the door as fast as you can sidle. \n\n"Wait!" says the man who looks like a mole, "You can't leave! You belong to me now!" He is holding up a copy of Pippin in Playland and pointing to it as though it were a legally binding document. Sure enough, just underneath the box illustrating Barnaby's adventures with the Christmas Fairy is some smallprint regarding the rules of the part-exchange room. It is all absolutely above board. The mechanical auctioneer brings its gavel down again and again, each time missing you by a narrower margin. \n\nRoll a die. \n\n[[1, 2 or 3|Donald Catches UP]] You manage to avoid the gavel's blows and escape from the part-exchange room. \n[[4, 5 or 6|The Cow of Destiny]] You are knocked out by the gavel and captured. \n
The head of marketing draws a line on the ground in red marker pen, saying \n\n"On this side we have VUD (TM) washing powder. On the other side is ORDINARY (TM) powder. Gentlemen, you have chosen your weapons - may the best brand win!" \n\nTaking your places either side of the line, you and your opponent commence battle. \n\n"En garde!" cries your opponent, thrusting and parrying like a pro. Desperately you cast your mind back to all those wasted hours watching Errol Flynn films on BBC2 and struggle to remember some of the moves. All you can recall is lots of people in silk stockings shouting "touché" a lot and twiddling their moustaches.\n\n"Touché!" You shout uncertainly, thrusting your umbrella vaguely in the direction of your enemy, but unfortunately it unfurls just at the wrong moment and is carried away by a gust of wind. Defenceless, you are struck down by a thrust from your opponent's umbrella which catches you between the ribs. You clutch at your wound, and a blue-white powder trickles through your fingers from a deep gash in the box.\n\n"VUD! (TM)" you gasp, collapsing to the floor, "I'm done for!" Fading fast, the world begins to swim before your eyes. Suddenly Donald, who has all this time been busy making balloon animals, is standing over you. He asks if you have any last words, and if not, would you mind helping him to blow up his balloon. No longer in any position to argue, you struggle to draw your last breath, press the balloon your lips, and expire.\n\n\t''* * * You are splatted! * * * ''
The passage grows steadily wider as you progress along it. Eventually you find your path blocked by a fast flowing underground river. It is too dangerous to attempt to swim across so instead you must either [[Look for a boat|Up the Creek Without a Paddle]], or [[Head back the way you came|A dead end]].\n\n<<if $inventory.indexOf("A large bag of breadcrumb coating") != -1>>If you are carrying a large bag of breadcrumb coating, you may [[use it to cross the river|Panhandlers]].<<endif>>\n\n<<if $sea monster>>If, on the other hand, you have been turned into a sea monster by the Purple-arsed Yogi, [[the water holds no fear for you|An Antidote]].<<endif>>\n\n\n
* Playing Tip: Don't forget to make an inventory of all the rubbish you find as you play 'Escape from the Crazy Place'. You can write this anywhere; on the back of an envelope, in the margin of a newspaper, or in Biro on your left forearm.**\n\n** On your right forearm if you are left handed.***\n\n*** WARNING: Do not attempt to write on your left forearm with your left hand, or on your right forearm with your right hand, as this may result in injury.
'Ere,', says Clarence, 'where d'you think you're off to? We haven't filled our quota yet. Please don't muck me about, I've got a shocking hangover this morning!'\n\nFeeling a little sorry for Clarence, you [[have another go at the sugarface with your pickaxe|You're Holding It All Wrong]].\n
You crawl back into bed and pull the covers over your head, drifting off immediately into a soothing sleep of somnolent slumberings. Moments later you are woken by the sound of alarm bells. You leap out of bed screaming 'Fire! Fire!', but there is no fire. It is only your [[alarm clock|Plugalug]].
With Donald's crayon you cross out the letters L, E, A, V, E, S, D, U, E, O and N. The sign now reads\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">DO NOTHING<br>by order of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nFor a moment there is silence in the cell, and then widespread panic. Gradually, as people realise that panicking is //a thing,// it goes quiet again, and you find yourself in a room full of people standing very still with their eyes tightly shut, because seeing is a //a thing.//\n\n"Is thinking //a thing?//" says the timid little man who looks like a mole.\n\n"Shhh!" says the old lady who smells of mothballs.\n\n"Is breathing //a thing?//" says the man with a paper bag over his head. There is a brief pause, and then a sharp intake of breath from everyone in the room that causes your ears to pop. Thirty seconds later there is a mass exhalation. The man with a paper bag on his head begins to hyperventilate, but this is alright because he already has a paper bag on his head.\n\n"I'm pretty sure existing is //a thing//." you say mischievously. Suddenly you are surrounded by a crowd of people determinedly willing themselves out of existence.\n\n[[Join them|Fade Away]], or [[leave the cell|Forbidden Practices]]?
There is a buffet to the left, piled high with roast-hogs, cheesecacke and canapés - it is a decadent environment, and would be classy if it were not for the roar of 60 musicians trying to outplay each other. \n\nThe seating around you is comprised of round tables of champagne, flutes, centrepiece flowers - cheeseboards and dips. The guests are nibbling and chatting at the tops of their voices, their faces purple from shouting pleasantries at each other. \n\nYou spot your favourite acquaintance, that traitor Susie and her fat Gnome date on a table directly in front of you. She’s looking spectacular in a Vera Wang Floral pleated hi-low hem mini-maxi-dress. Damnit, it’s the one dress you remember you’ve worn only 136 times! It could do with a wash, you think to yourself. But recall to never, ever go near a laundry again. \n\nOh Good-Lord, she’s throwing her head back, tossing olives in the air and catching them in her mouth - never breaking eye-contact with the fat Gnome. The harlot. \n\nDo you: \n\n* [[Go left to the buffet|Bargatuan Burgers]] and explore the foodstuffs, nobly ignoring your favourite acquaintance, that traitor Susie and the fat Gnome. They can have each other right there, for all you care. \n* Roll over and above you to the dancefloor to [[join the melee|The Melee]] of dance-styles. \nThe zebra-catsuit would certainly fit-in up there.\n* Roll up to your favourite acquaintance, that traitor Susie and [[give her what-for|Whatever]], for stealing your date from under you. The harlot.
The tree crashes through the roof of your walk-in closet and knocks you unconscious. When you wake up you find yourself in a familiar environment, but you seem to have lost your memory.\n\n<<display 'Another Padded Cell'>>
You set off along the grand gallery, admiring the sumptuous decor, and marvelling at how the other half live. Donald, who is walking slightly ahead of you, suddenly gives a yelp of pain. When you catch up he is rubbing his nose and complaining of an invisible wall across the tunnel. He brushes his hands across the surface of the wall looking for a way through, but it is apparently smooth and flawless. Will you <<if $gelignite>>[[attempt to shoulder your way through the barrier|Death by Jelly]]<<else>>[[attempt to shoulder your way through the barrier|A Joke]]<<endif>>, or turn back and [[take the other tunnel|At the Mountains of Madness]] into the mountainside?
Do you know I've completely forgotten where we were? I'm afraid I'm going to have to send you right back to the beginning.\n\n<<display 'Start'>>
CAN'T YOU READ?\n\n[[Back|previous()]]
You may add the autograph to your inventory, in the unlikely event that it may come in useful later on in your adventure. Suddenly you see two giant monsters charging towards you. You run away but soon find yourself in a dead end passage. Fortunately there is some kind of transporter switch here. <<set $inventory.push("An autographed photo of "+$autograph)>>\n\nDo you \n\n\t1. [[Transport yourself away|Inside a Cereal Packet]], or \n\t2. [[Ask Donald if he has any better ideas|Donald's Idea]]?
You head East. <<display 'The North Pole'>>
You try the door. It is found guilty, and placed in a maximum-security cell, whereupon its cell-mates use it to escape. One of the escaped criminals is a certain clown of your acquaintance. After a tearful reunion, you set off together once again on your adventure. Wandering lonely as a couple of clowns, all at once you spy a crowd, a host of snapping crocodills! These fearsome flora are determined to tear you limb from limb! \n\nChoose: \n<<<\n#<<if $inventory.indexOf("A violin") != -1>>[[If you have in your possession a violin|Stradivarius]]<<else if $inventory.indexOf("A violin") == -1>>[[If you have in your possession a violin|Cheat!]]<<endif>>\n#[[If you don't|My swivelly ankles are no good at parking]]\n<<<\n
''You are SPLATTED!''\n\nYou sneaky little pleasure-delayer you.
'Leave this to me!' says Geoffrey, pushing ahead of you. 'That puny monster's no match for Gentle Geoffrey, machete wielding maniac of the Crazy Place!' \n\nGeoffrey's leather jacket seems to contain a whole armoury. From it he selects a particularly vicious looking serrated dagger. He then squares up to the monster and incites it to 'have a go.'\n\nIt is amazing how quickly this show of bravado degenerates into pure farce. One minute Geoffrey is standing before the monster, waist deep in semolina, waving his weapon and shouting threats. The next minute his legs are sticking out of the monster's mouth, muffled threats still emanating from within its cavernous jaws. In another minute Geoffrey is gone, and the threats are replaced by a strangulated choking noise from deep within the monster's throat. Then, the monster too is dead, and there is silence. <<set $geoffrey = false>>\n\n'Must have gone down the wrong way,' says Donald, which words must serve for Geoffrey's eulogy. \n\n'Still, it could have been worse,' you reply after a while. 'It could have been us.' Together you make your way across the sea of semolina and [[leave the chamber|RIP Gentle Geoffrey]].
You take a run up and hurl yourself out of the window. As you fall you hear P-ter's whiny voice from up above\n\n'Oh, go on then! Off you go! Don't mind me! That's just typical that is! Leaving halfway through a conversation! CAN YOU HEAR ME DOWN THERE? YES - I'M TALKING TO YOU! WINDOW JUMPER! AUTODEFENESTRATOR! RUDE! THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE! RUDE!' And on and on he goes until long after you land, and it <<display 'Balloon'>>
'Open up! Police!' comes the cry from behind the door. Before you can respond, the door flies open and three uniformed police officers burst into the room. \n\n'Have you been talking to Mr. Biglet?' asks one. \n\n'Why yes,' you reply. 'Is there some sort of a problem?' \n\n'I'll tell you the problem,' replies the policeman, and true to his word, he does. 'He's autodefenestrated, that's the problem!' \n\n'I'm afraid you'll have to accompany us to the station,' says another. 'I'm placing you under arrest for murder! You have the right to say whatever you like, but don't expect us to take any notice!' \n\nA pretty predicament these police present! \n\nWill you: \n<<<\n#[[Tell them you are sorry for what you have done|Possibilities]], or \n#[[Jump out of the window|Some Page Or Other]] so that you can apologise to Mr. Biglet in person before he hits the ground?\n<<<\n
The man in charge of the French Foreign Legion meets you at the gates with a tear in his eye. \n\n'I think you're jolly brave to go out in all this rain,' he says in French.* 'You're a credit to the Legion. I want you to accept these.'** He holds out a pair of medals. As you snatch them from his hands he says tearfully 'There's no need to thank me. Good Luck!'*** With a final salute you head out into the pouring rain, never to return. \n\n'Where shall we go then?' You ask Donald. \n<<<\n#[[The North Pole|Mission To The North Pole!]]\n#[[Neasden|A Long Walk]]\n<<<\n *'Je pense que vous êtes très courageux pour sortir sous la pluie.'\n **'Vous êtes un crédit à la Légion. Je veux que vous acceptez ces médailles.'\n ***'Il n'y a pas besoin de me remercier. Bonne chance!'
You fill your pockets with the crystals, but they melt and run down your legs, the reason being that they are BATH CRYSTALS. When the truth finally percolates through your intelligence, the crystals are percolating through your trousers.\n\nYou must now either:\n\ni) [[Fill your pockets with more of the crystals]]\nii) [[Leave them and get out of the cave]]
Painstakingly, little by little, you make your way deeper and deeper into the jungle of orange curls. You are amazed by the sheer volume of stuff that has, at one time or another, become lost in Donald's shaggy mane; the fat gnome's moustache, the Boss's hat, a large iron key with the number 37 on the key-fob, three boxes of cabbages, the fat gnome*... \n\n'Wait a minute...' you say to yourself. 'Don't I know that guy?' \n\nChoose: \n<<<\n(1) [[If you have met the fat gnome before|Hello Again Old Chap!]]. \n(2) [[If not, you introduce yourself|You couldn't help me out could you old chap?]]. \n<<<\n *You may keep any or all of these objects, on the off chance that they might at some point prove useful. Don't forget to append them to your inventory list, which you will no doubt have been keeping diligently since you began playing this game.
PLUGALUG: (Offstage) What was that you said, sir? \n\nTHE BOSS: I wasn't talking to you, sir. \n\nPLUGALUG: (Offstage) No, but I was trying to listen to what you were saying, sir. \n\n(The READER [[shows signs of irritation|Scene 325a]] at not having been offered a choice of direction for the past four pages)
You push past the woman and continue along the path, but she runs ahead of you and trips you up, and rams the receiver into your face.\n\n'At the third stroke, the time will be thirteen o'clock and seventy-nine seconds precisely'\n\nBeep - Beep - Beep.\n\nThe woman runs off into the distance, barking furiously. You look around to find the clown, Donald, and see him talking to an old man wearing rags. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n<<<\nA) [[Go over and join in the conversation|A Small Prophet]], OR \niii. [[Keep walking along the garden path?|Up the Garden Path]]\n<<<\n\n\n\n
'I hope this doesn't fall down,' you say, wrapping one of the discarded towels around you, though the thought that it might adds an extra thrill of fear to your already exciting adventures. Upon leaving the laundry you find the clown, Donald, sitting waiting for you. At the end of a short corridor you find two doors. \n\n[[Go through the door on the left|A broom cupboard]]\n[[Go through the door on the right|A vast plain]]\n
Heading back the way you came, you soon find Donald, sitting waiting for you. For reasons best left unexplored he's wearing a crudely fashioned feather headdress. Together you make your way down the grey corridor until [[you reach the end|DO NOT READ THIS SIGN]].
The foreman narrowly dodges the blow, and using some kind of chemical signal, sounds the alarm. Soon the gallery is crawling with ants. It's no picnic, I can tell you.\n\n'Oh, my word,' says Clarence, ducking behind the mine car. 'Get out while you still can!' he hisses.\n<<set $norman = true>>\nThere is nothing else for it now but to make a run for it. The gallery branches at the far end into two tunnels, neither of which have you explored before. Will you take [[the left hand tunnel|Donald Catches UP]], or the [[right hand tunnel|Mount Vertigo]]?
The hair is showing no signs of receding, and has even begun to infringe upon the bald mountaintop. You and your companion are forced to climb higher and higher to escape it. Just as the air is becoming intolerably thin (and the hair intolerably thick) you come across a tiny door in the side of the mountain. You try the door, and it opens to reveal a spiral staircase descending into the gloom. \n\nWhat course of action will you suggest to the fat gnome? \n\na) [[That you proceed down the stairs shutting the door firmly behind you|You Descend The Stairs]], or \nb) [[That you sit there on the mountaintop and wait until the hair completely engulfs you|A Deep and Dreamless Sleep]].
Finally, after all your trials and tribulations, you reach one of the places circled on the map. There is no possibility of error, you have finally reached 'the exit'!\n\nThe lack of physical evidence does nothing at all to dull your enthusiasm, at first. Perhaps there's a hidden trapdoor under those dead leaves! After an hour of digging you are finally forced to concede that there isn't. After that your efforts become increasingly desperate. You tug on the branch of a tree three times. You close your eyes and click your heels together, saying 'there's no place like home'. You shout 'open sesame!' and 'swordfish!' and 'f178Nx3PW!' but none of these magic passwords have the desired effect. Eventually you slump down upon a fallen log and let the failed map slip from your nerveless fingers. It lands face down, the face Donald drew on the reverse smiling up at you, with its luminous yellow, circular eyes. \n\nWITH ITS LUMINOUS YELLOW, CIRCULAR EYES!\n\nSuddenly all becomes clear. Those circles didn't mark the exits, they were merely the eyes of the smiling face on the other side, soaked right through the paper. How could you have been so stupid...\n\nIn a situation like this there are only two things you can do. [[laugh|The New Forest]], or [[cry|A Soggy Mush]].
It doesn't work. You are ''dead''.
You let him go.\n\n<<display 'Leave them and get out of the cave'>>
The corridor dead-ends. However, there is a chute here marked 'Laundry'.\n\n[[Examine the chute|A Long Way Down]] \n[[Return to the cavern and explore the other passageway|A Junction]]
When you reach the end of the conveyor belt it stops abruptly, throwing you forward. Helplessly you fly through the strange painting, tearing it, and fall down onto a brightly lit stage. 'Aha!' says a nearby magician 'a volunteer!' There is a sudden crash behind you as Donald follows you onto the stage. 'Two volunteers!' says the magician, 'this can be a double act!' The magician shuts Donald in a large wooden box and fastens it with a padlock, while you are neatly folded into another box. There is [[a strange rasping noise|I Like Kittens]]...
You begin to wrestle with one another on the lawn. It looks as though you are winning, but suddenly he catches you around the waist and presses his chin against your chest, forcing you backwards. [[The lights go out|The Purple-Arsed Yogi]] and nothing exists but the sounds of breathing in pitch darkness.
Pushbike Crumble Recipe\n\nIngredients\nCrumble:\n*300g/10½oz plain flour, sieved pinch of salt \n*175g/6oz unrefined brown sugar \n*200g/7oz unsalted butter, cubed at room temperature \n*Knob of butter for greasing \n\nFilling:\n*1 23" / 58cm road bike, saddle and handlebars removed and cut into 1cm/½in pieces\n*50g/2oz unrefined brown sugar \n*1 tbsp plain flour \n*1 pinch of ground cinnamon\n\nMethod:\n#Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/Gas 4.\n#Place the flour and sugar in a large bowl and mix well. Taking a few cubes of butter at a time rub into the flour mixture. Keep rubbing until the mixture resembles breadcrumbs. \n#Place the bicycle in a large bowl and sprinkle over the sugar. Stir well being careful not to break up the frame. \n#Butter a 24cm/9in oven-proof dish. Spoon the bicycle mixture into the bottom, then sprinkle the crumble mixture on top. \n#Bake in the oven for 40-45 minutes until the crumble is browned and the bicycle mixture bubbling. \n#Serve with the Duke of Oslo or custard.\n\n[[Back|The Duke of Oslo in a pushbike CRUMBLE]]\n
'We might as well take a look around,' you say to Donald, 'we could do with a few supplies for our adventure.' You can't help feeling a little ill at ease, however, as you peruse the rows of shelving. There is something about this place that doesn't feel quite right.\n\nYou are searching through a box marked "assorted snowflakes"* when Donald summons you over with a whistle. He has found a rack of lethal-looking broadswords, only £1 each!\n\n[[Take one of the swords|A Pit of Eels]] or [[head for the exit|Call the lift]].\n\n *Empty, and slightly damp.
The hat keeps its distance, creeping along the floor behind your heels everywhere you go. \nIt’s mewing is distracting and when you’re in the bath it feels like you’re being watched, despite it having no discernible eyes. \n\nAfter some weeks you’ve become used to talking to it, like an old and silent friend. \n\n“You want me to wear you, don’t you?”\n“Yes!” you say out loud to yourself, responding on behalf of the hat. \n\n“Why should I wear you? I don’t want to have the mind of a teenager with a crush!”\n\n“I’ll just get out of your way and be all invisible n’ stuff. Nothing bad will happen.” you continue, affecting the accent you imagine the hat has when it speaks. \n\n“Oh, well - I do trip over you occasionally or worry about you getting trapped in revolving doors sometimes. It’d be better if you were not under my feet.” and you pick the hat up, utterly convinced by the hat’s assurance and logical reasoning.\n\nJust as you said to yourself it would when you put it on, it vanishes....\n\n----- \n\n[[You are more into teenage boys.|JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!]]\n\n[[You are more into teenage girls.|SHAILENE!! SHAILENE!! MARRY ME SHAILENE!!!]]
"I have seen the light!", cries Osvult, with tears in his eyes, "that lesson in history you gave us yesterday was something to behold! Hallelujah!"\n\n"Um... I just... drew a sheep" you reply meekly.\n\n"Oh but WHAT a sheep", he continues, "clearly each cut represented the four assassinated American presidents - JFK, Lincoln, and the two lesser known presidents, McKinley and Garfield, plus you did the other main cut to incorporate the only assassinated UK prime minister, Spencer Perceval. It really made sense to me, and I have been reading up on British, American and World History. I know everything there is to know about the most important people who ever lived, and it is all thanks to you".\n\nBrimming with pride, although a little unsure as to how your wretched presentation could have equipped Osvult with such encyclopaedic knowledge of bygone eras, you open your mouth to speak, but Donald butts in: \n\n"What can you tell me about Walter Wongleplock, the inventor of the plockometer?" he asks, in a far sterner tone than is necessary. Osvult cocks his head to one side and stares blankly at Donald's left earlobe for a few moments, before collapsing in a heap, and bursting into a flood of tears so excessive that you want to hug Osvult.\n\nYou look grimly at Donald.\n\n"What?", he queries, "I just don't like clever dicks".\n\nWill you\n\n[[Hug Osvult]]\n\nor\n\n[[Punch Donald|A Wrestling Match]] (let's be honest, you've tried this before, and where did THAT get you?)\n
You systematically search every single last room in the Crazy Place, but the hunchback is not to be found in any of them. \n\n"I guess he must have escaped." you say to Donald. You decide to cut your losses and [[return to the elevator|Call the lift]].
"Hang on", you suddenly realise, "How can it be a silver butterfly IF IT'S GOT RED WINGS???!!!"\n\nYou turn to stare at Donald, just about to open your mouth, and he says, right on cue, "It's MADE of silver. We try all sorts of breeding methods here."\n\nA lengthy quest begins, passing a large cow which seems to be in every direction you take, and appears to have the letters COH branded into its rump.*\n\nAfter what seems to be several hours searching, there does, indeed, appear to be a silver butterfly...with red wings....circling overhead. Finally, the creature comes to a halt on a water cooler you'd never noticed before. Exhausted, but aware that this could be your only way out of here, you gently and carefully attach the letter to the butterfly's red wing. To your surprise, the butterfly just starts moaning at you in a grating, whiny voice "Oooh no, stop it. I don't like that. Take it off, it's really getting to me now".\n\nYou look at Donald suspiciously, and he says "What? I did tell you that if you tied the letter to the silver butterfly's red wings, it would get to him".\n\n<<display 'Choices'>>\n\n *Though it clearly has a head and tail, it nevertheless resembles a torus.
As you are searching the tank for carpet cleaners you accidentally knock a lever and blow a hole in a nearby mountain. You discover a tunnel inside which disappears into the gloom. \n\nDo you: \n<<<\n#[[Carry on down the road in the tank|Driving Happily Along]], or\n#[[Investigate the tunnel|At the Mountains of Madness]]?\n<<<\n
Inside the conical building there is a circular hatch in the centre of the floor that leads down into a long, vertical shaft. Donald is sitting on the edge of the shaft dangling his legs into the hole. He suggests that the two of you jump into the hole to find out where it goes. Choose\n\n#[[If you think this is a good idea|A Nasty Fall]]\n#[[If not, you head back to the rectangular building, taking a shortcut across the lawn|Engulfed by Rampant Turf]]
You drop the clothes but the three people wearing towels aren't interested in hearing your apology as it seems that you have dropped them in a puddle and they will have to be washed again. \n\n[[Offer to do them yourself|The Washing Begins to Go Around]]\n[[Make a break for the door|Three Demented Washing Machines]]\n
You are very surprised in the morning to find yourself in the fat gnome's toadstool house. But you soon remember everything that had happened.\n\nThe situation is rather delicate. Your left leg is completely numb, pinned beneath the gnome's right buttock. Meanwhile Donald is slowly suffocating, his head jammed irretrievably into the gnome's left armpit. You try to wake the gnome, but he appears to have fallen into some kind of coma. Your only recourse is to use [[brute force|A Warm Cocoon]].
‘Donald, help me out here! Sing “Margarine!”’ you cry, but Donald is still suffering the effects of the blow to his head, and can only sing in French: -\n\n«Je mets mon margarine sur roues et laissé sur le rebord de la fenêtre, puis plus tard, il était plein d'anguilles, je les ai vendus au facteur. Il a dit «Je voulais vraiment souris» donc je concocté un bol de riz, puis il se leva et me frappé à deux reprises, et a dit qu'il était trop crémeuse. Le Butler nous interrompit, il a dit «oh là là, nous avons raté le bus!» Le visage du laitier était plein de pus, nous avons essayé de l'ignorer. Mais il a insisté: «Je vais payer pour vos vacances jamaïcain», puis il partit pour St Tropez sur son trampoline enchantée. Puis, hier, mon bon ami Raymonde est resté coincé dans sa micro-ondes, il a causé des brûlures désagréables sur ses orteils, puis le laitier retourné dans son train de crème Anglaise, il a laissé un pot de margarine puis continua son chemin.» \n\nRegardless of the language, the song has had the desired effect - OsVult is fast asleep. You heave a great sigh of relief, weighing about three and a half kilos, and tiptoe airily off [[into the woods|The Forest]]. \n
With Donald's crayon you cross out the letters D, O, N, O and T. The sign now reads\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">LEAVE THIS DUNGEON<br>by order of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nSo eager are your cell-mates to obey the law that you are trampled flat in the stampede. Donald rolls you up, and when, a few years later, he finally settles down and gets a place of his own, he uses you as a hearthrug to remind him of his past adventures.\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
'Your turn to go first, Donald.' You say, stepping back from the edge, but Donald is standing behind you. Too late, he pushes you into the vortex...\n\n<<display 'Gobstopper'>>
The wall is not only very tall, but also very long. There seems to be no end to it. After walking for several days you come across a periscope which will enable you to see over the top of the wall. \n\n#[[Use the periscope|Two Buildings]]. \n#[[Keep walking|A Long Walk]]...
The chemist straps you to the chair before exposing you to the dangerous compound. Throw the dice!* If you get 1, 2, or 3, [[you survive the experiment|An Unaccountable Craving For Cheese]]. If you get 4, 5, or 6, [[you are not so lucky|A Round Glass Bowl]].\n\n*That's assuming you have a die. If not, get one!\nIf you can't find one, just cheat.\n
Standing on one leg you bend forward from the waist, extending one arm forwards and the other arm and leg backwards, when there is a terrible rending noise, and you realise with horror that your tights have split. Blushing with embarrasment, you struggle to rectify the situation as best you can with a safety pin whilst still balanced on one leg. Unfortunately you begin to lose your balance, and abandoning all hope of maintaining your poise, you begin to flail your arms about in a desperate attempt to stay upright. At the same time, the dancer in the black leotard catches you a glancing blow across the cheek with a flying leap. Inexorably you topple backwards into the orchestra pit, where your head becomes jammed in the funnel of a trombone. \n\nROLL A DIE. If it is a five or a six, [[you survive this ordeal|Pigeon]]; OTHERWISE [[YOU ARE NOT SO LUCKY|The Celestial Escalator]]...
Three hours later Atlas still hasn't returned and you are beginning to get tired of standing on your head. \n\nChoose \n\n#[[To continue waiting|Unburdened]]. \n#[[To get up|Stuff This]].
J. J. Guest, Loz Etheridge & friends
Three years later, when you still haven't finished filling in the form, and have only two and a half legs, you watch a T.V. programme on how the government has miraculously reduced unemployment. You commit suicide by eating an overdose of UB40 forms. ''You are splatted!''
After wandering along several drab, grey corridors you eventually come to a plain door with a polished brass plaque attached to it. The plaque reads, simply, “THE BOSS”. Could it be that you have finally found the man responsible for your being trapped here in this crazy place?\n\n[[Knock politely|Knock Door Run]]\n[[Throw open the door and confront your tormentor|Cleaning Time]]\n
You hang up the phone, it'd have been such a waste of good crackling to let it burn like that. \n\nYou're looking back at the book, an animated gif of the lead singer stroking a kitten winks at you. \n\nDo you [[Cut-Out-And-Keep]] the ticket, or call [[A lady who knows the AtoZ off by heart]]?
Gradually the trees thin out. The air is filled with the sound of gulls and crashing waves, and the tang of salt air. You are standing on a shingle beach overlooking the ocean, grey and somnolent, sparkling gently under the sun's splintery rays.\n\n<<display 'A Fish Supper'>>
'Thisaway! Thataway!' says Plugalug in answer to your question.\n\n'But you're pointing in two directions at once!' you protest, thoroughly confused.\n\n'The time is a quarter to three.' Plugalug replies, and falls silent. Which way will you go, [[thisaway|Sense and Sensibility]] or [[thataway|Revolve And Be Content]]?
'I had no idea ballet was such a violent sport' you say to Donald when, after a twenty minute struggle, he has managed to get the trombone off your head. The instrument is damaged beyond repair, but Donald gives you a violin which he managed to steal in all the confusion. You may store it in your inventory in case it ever comes in handy. You decide to leave the theatre before you get into any more trouble. "Oh, for the wings of a dove!" you hum to yourself absent-mindedly as you wander through the wings. By sheer coincidence, a dove-like cooing can be heard from the rafters. Looking up you see a forlorn looking pigeon, disguised as a dove with talcum powder. It is sitting in a nest made from playing cards and silk handkerchiefs, and seems to be attempting to incubate a billiard ball. 'Must have escaped from a magic act.' you say to Donald.<<set $inventory.push("A violin")>>\n\nWill you: \n<<<\n(a) Try to [[tempt it down from its perch|99% Garbage]] with a piece of stale old hamburger, or \n(b) Ignore it and [[leave the stage|It's A Jungle In Here]] via an old prop door bearing the sign 'Beware of the tiger.'\n<<<\n
The witch doctor removes his mask. It was the Boss all along! You have fallen victim to a cunning ruse and it takes a whole box of sticking plasters to restore you to full health. Lose 5 points of CHARISMA.*\n\n<<display 'Cackling like a Loon'>>\n\n*Your CHARISMA score is calculated as follows: Go to a bar and chat up someone you find attractive. Now divide their telephone number by the number of minutes it took you to get it.
Unfortunately a demi-tasse is not a ballet step, but a small coffee cup which is sadly broken in the scuffle.\n\nYou must choose again...\n\n#[[An entrechat|Entrechat]]\n#[[An arabasque|Arabesque]] \n#[[Trust in providence|Great Volumes of Paper]]\n
The tunnel ends in a simple wooden door. <<display 'Into the Woods'>>
You take one step towards the east and immediately fall into a deep pit full of spikes. You look up to see "Rampateuay" removing his mask. It was the Boss all along! You have fallen victim to a cunning ruse and it takes a whole box of sticking plasters to restore you to full health. Lose 5 points of CHARISMA.*\n\n<<display 'Cackling like a Loon'>>\n\n*Your CHARISMA score is calculated as follows: Go to a bar and chat up someone you find attractive. Now divide their telephone number by the number of minutes it took you to get it.
You follow the webbed footprints down a long twisting passageway. The passage comes to a dead end (R.I.P.) at which point you find Donald wearing frogmans' flippers. Reunited with your companion, you decide to explore the maze of passages which unfold before you. \n\nWill you go [[straight ahead|A large wooden door]], or [[down a tiny side passage to your left|A sign]]...?
You untie the string, which is tied in a simple bow, and climb to your feet until you reach a standing position. Unfortunately as you do, your right leg loses control and attempts to dance, causing you to fall over. \n\n'Must be these new disco trousers,' you say to yourself, wondering how you came to be wearing rhinestone covered white satin flares. 'No wonder someone tied my right leg to my left hand.' \n\nYou attempt to get up again, with exactly the same results, except that this time you are knocked asleep. When you regain consciousness you are mercifully wearing different trousers*, but unhappily you have also lost your memory. 'Lawks a mercy,' you exclaim, 'I can't even remember what [[time|Read My Hands, The Alarm Clock Said]] it is...'\n\n*Crimson satin breeches, with a silver-fringed - (appendage to them which I dare not translate).
With an extreme effort of concentration you force yourself to forget the events of the past few minutes.\n\nIt's a dream, you tell yourself, only a dream. And it's fading now. Fading away. It's only a memory without anywhere to stay.\n\nGradually the events of your life begin to unravel, and <<display 'Seven Months'>>
Downstream you see an old man with Australia stuck on the end of his ear. \n\n[[Help him remove the country|Arrested!]] \n[[Say "I was on the Bob Monkhouse show in 1985" ?]]
'Help!' gurgles Donald from inside the washing machine, speaking in the universal language of mime. CHOOSE:\n\n[[You can bear to watch his his suffering no longer|Black and White]]\n[[You decide to cruelly ignore him|Hypocycloid Ablutions]]
"Come, Donaldo," you say, withdrawing a silk handkerchief from your pocket and covering your nose, "We must away. That man smells and I fear he may have the pox." But before you can leave the raggedy ancient stays you with a hand like a chicken's foot. \n\n"I am the great prophet, Rampateuay," he says "and I have come from afar to warn you of great danger!" \n\n"You haven't come from afar," you reply, trying not to breathe, "You were waiting for us behind that hummock." \n\n"That is as may be," says the prophet, "but when you get to my age that hummock is afar, I can tell you. You wait till you're 359,043,750,934,709,538,400 and a half, you'll see!" \n\n"By the time we get to the point of this conversation, I may well be !" you say, smirking at your own wit." \n\n"If you will allow me to finish," says Rampateuay "I have consulted the mystic runes of Rooby-Doo! I have powwowed with the all knowing oracle of Ooglogglegoggle! I have read the Golden Book of So-And-So! And they all say the same thing!" He points towards the east. "Go that way if you don't want to die!" \n\nWill you \n\n\t1. [[Take the old man's advice|A trap]], or \n\t2. [[Go the other way?|A lucky escape]]\n
You run helter-skelter through the hallways, singing a little tune to calm your nerves: \n\n"Barnaby the bear's my name \nNever call me Jack or James \nI will sing my way to fame \nBarnaby the bear's my name" \n\nEventually you lose your pursuers and stop to catch your breath. You have just about recovered when the sound of footsteps makes you start. When you turn around you are relieved to see that it is only Donald. Before long he catches up with you. UP isn't pleased. \n\nRoll a die. \n\n[[4, 5 or 6|Get Into The Groove]] - You manage to escape the clutches of UP. \n[[1, 2, or 3|Pop]] - You are not so lucky.
You have made a great mistake - in leaving him that way you have banished him to the black and white TV set in the laundry.\n\nThere he is on the screen now, trapped in an old episode of "Dad's Army", screaming in the universal language of mime.\n\n[[Attempt to save him from this fate|Chapter 13]]\n[[Leave the laundry|Memory Loss]]
You open the door and step into what turns out to be a tiny broom cupboard. Realising your mistake you turn around to leave only to find that Donald has followed you in, shutting the door behind him. The door can only be opened from the outside. You are doomed to remain here forever with only Donald for company. ''FIN.''
A cursory examination of Mr. Biglet's study reveals Donald lying under the couch. He's found some sort of diagram resembling an ink blot which he claims looks like a cow. To you however it is obviously a picture of a smoked glass coffee table. Unfortunately all of Mr. Biglet's private files have been put through the paper shredder before being carefully re-filed in alphabetical order. However you do manage to piece together one document; a certificate declaring Mr. Biglet to be quite mad. At the bottom of the certificate in very small print are the words:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">\nWARNING! \nDo not talk to this man. \nIf you utter so much as one word to him he will, of course, \nTHROW HIMSELF OUT OF THE WINDOW!\n</div></center></html>\nSuddenly there is [[a knock at the door|An Arresting Development]].
Families from all around the world gather around and stare and point at you.\n\n'Get those tree stumps out of my way before I vomit all over you.' you hear someone say.\n\n[[Move the tree stumps|Humble Abodal Shoe]]\n[[Leave them where they are|You Leave The Tree Stumps Where They Are]]
You never escape from the Crazy Place, but in recognition of your efforts to do so, a life-size bronze statue of you is erected on a special plinth on the top of your own head. You stagger under its immense weight for the rest of your days, but proudly.\n\n''THE END''
Unfortunately everything that can go wrong with that plan goes wrong. Donald comes back dressed up as the Boss's servant and the Boss is dressed as Donald. You decide to put on the Little Bo Peep costume Donald wore during your escape from the Maximum-Security Wing in the hope that neither of them will recognise you. Whilst all this is going on three people wearing towels come by and steal your regular clothes. Realising that the Boss is now wise to the Little Bo-Peep ruse, you grab Donald, now dressed as a box of "Ordinary Powder" and swing by the local fancy-dress costume shop in the hope of buying new disguises.\n\nWhen you arrive at the costume shop you find that Donald has burned all of the costumes except two. \n\nWhich one will you wear? \n<<<\n1. [[The banana costume|Banana Burger]]? \n2. [[The Patrick Moore costume|Twinkle Twinkle]]? \n<<<\n\n
Unfortunately the Professor murders you instead, but at least you know who dunnit, which is a good thing since Donald can't seem to get the little cards out of the envelope. FIN. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
Well this makes no sense!\n\nYou've had a FIN, that's basically the same as SPLATTED!\n\nWhat are you doing here? \nGo on, get [[Splatted!|Deferred Gratification]]\n
'We have prepared a little test for you,' says Aunty, changing the subject, 'Should you be successful, we will provide you with everything you need to complete your mission.' \n\n'But should you fail,' says Uncle gravely, 'the penalty will be severe.' He proceeds to ask you the following riddle... 'What is head, and looks like a bankie?' \n\nWhat answer will you give? \n\n\ta) [[A porcupine]]; \n\tb) [[Treemash]]; \n\tc) [[37.5]]; \n\td) Don't know
Rummaging through your small plastic bag of possessions for a suitable weapon to use against the monster, you come across a copy of 'Twinkle,' the comic for little girls. 'I don't remember this being in here,' you say, 'still, it'll just have to do.' You roll it up to make a sort of impromptu club and take a few practice swings. 'You couldn't kill a mosquito with this!' you sigh, but there is nothing else of use in the bag so, you step forward and face the monster. It should be a matter of great personal pride to you that, against all the odds, you manage to swat the monster no less than three times across the knee before it bites off your head. Donald follows for dessert, clowns naturally being sugar-coated. [[FIN]].
Carefully you cut a path through the encroaching follicles to reach the stranded figure. 'Thanks awfully old chap,' he says when you have set him free 'thought I'd never see the light of day again. Do you like rock music?' <<display 'Opera Glasses'>>\n
'And now,' continues the magician relentlessly - 'for my pièce de résistance! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I will now reveal the whereabouts of the elusive Donald. You will observe that there is nothing up my sleeves…' The magician then takes hold of your ears, and pulls, and with one deft movement reveals your face to be nothing more than a rubber mask concealing the pallid features of Donald! The audience go barking mad with excitement.\n\n<<display 'A Dove-Like Cooing'>>\n\n
No matter how hard you try, you cannot move him single-handedly. With Donald's help you manage to roll him onto his side, but this is as far as you get before you are both exhausted. You stop to catch your breath, and suddenly... \n\nYou find yourself in a warm cocoon. A rather oppressive stifling cocoon in fact. In short, you are being crushed. \n\n'Sorry old boy,' says the fat gnome. 'Didn't see you there. Have you seen the band?' The warm fleshy mass arises. The world instantly focuses. You are in a bar, buzzing neon sign flashing \n<<<\nCoors, Coors, Coors...\n<<<\n' 'Course you'll help me out, won't you old chap?' The gnome is staring in a forlorn way at the door to the right of the \n<<<\nbuzz, buzz, buzz.\n<<<\nIt is just wide enough for him to shimmy his head through. \n\nDo you \n\n#[[Run through the door shouting wild cult like chants|The Bowery]] OR Do you \n#[[Search for a chainsaw to widen the doorway|The Whole World Reduced To Splinters]]?
You take a long run up, before charging at the barrier with all your might. You brace yourself for the moment of impact, but it never comes. Instead you find yourself sprawled on the ground, having landed heavily on your right shoulder. Donald is rolling around on the floor, doubled up in paroxysms of helpless laughter. "It was a joke about the invisible wall," he says.*\n\nYou pick yourself up and dust yourself off as best you can, given that your shoulder is in excruciating pain.\n\nWill you: [[Hit Donald with your good arm|Tears of a Clown]], or [[continue exploring the corridor|A Simply Gigantic Walk-In Closet]], ignoring the pain?\n\n*In the universal language of mime.
It is now time to sit down and consider the options. Consider them well, as this is not a decision to be taken lightly! A mistake at this crucial stage could very well be fatal!\n\n[[Take the passage to the north|Junction]]\n[[Take the passage to the east|Chute]]
The sign in front of you reads. It’s made entirely of marmalade and toenail clippers.\nThe clippers have plastic googly-eyes that are trained rigidly to your knee. \nWherever your knee goes, the eyes follow. \nIt’s quite clear that you have not escaped. \n\nWhilst sat on the soil of the field, eating the sign and cutting your toenails you ponder the meaning of this existence.\nYou finish filing off the edges of the last toe and a large clown climbs out of the doorframe behind you. It closes behind him. \n\n“Hi I’m Donald McRonald. Would you like to buy a hamburger?” \n\nDo you: \n1) [[Knock down the door using the clown's head as a battering ram|Vacuum-sealed Pizza]],\nB) [[Batter it down with the hamburger]]?
I'm just popping to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. If you'd like to join me for a time out, [[choose option "1"|Black or White?]]. By the way, you have to go back afterwards. If you don't really like coffee, and want to puch me in the face because you haven't escaped yet, [[choose option "2"|Ow!]]. If you want to read this paragraph again, please do be careful.
The first part of the H-Plan diet involves swallowing an H-Bomb. The second part involves detonating it. There is no third part. ''You are dead.''
You follow the sign marked 'exit', and find yourself at the entrance to an elevator. Having no other alternative, you [[press the call button|Call the lift]].
Your super-powered hands grip the handle and tug. It comes off in your grasp. You bunch up a fist and slam it into the centre of the door. The wood cracks and breaks, allowing you to smash through into the room beyond. "Lucky I had those four cans of Stella for lunch," you say, "or I'd have felt that." Donald shakes his head sadly. He doesn't approve of your drinking.\n\n<<display 'An Arboreal Paradise'>>
The witch doctor produces a large medallion made from the lid of a baked bean can, a cluster of jellybeans serving for jewels. Wrinkle your brow! ————— he says ————— Wrinkle it very, very tightly ————— and now, relax, completely ————— the medallion swings slowly to and fro before your eyes ————— you don't have to think ————— you don't have to do anything ——————————————— you can feel yourself going deeply into that warm ————— safe ————— velvety blackness ——————————————————————————————— and gradually ——————————————————————————————— gradually ——————————————————————————————— the events of your life ——————————————————————— begin to unravel ——————————————————————————————— and ——————————————————————— <<display 'Seven Months'>>
You go through the door to find that the purple spots have decided to come with you. It is then that you realise that they were not part of the door, but a symptom of your delirious condition, perhaps brought on by the recent blow to your noggin. The world begins to spin, so you step off the turntable and immediately fall over. \n\n#[[Consult your analyst,|The Autodefenestration of Mr Biglet]] or just \n#[[Try to get some rest|Sleep Deprivation]]? \n\n
You have chosen to V. What the hell does that even mean? Just [[go back and choose one of the other options|Choices]], ok?
Ninety-nine bottles of beer later you wake up in a stair cupboard. You have no idea how you got there.\n\n<<display 'Some Or Other Page'>>
Following the path of bananas, you head off into the wild distance, until finally you become just a tiny speck on the farthest horizon, and disappear from sight.\n\n"What a shame, I rather liked that person." says weirdo #1.\n\n"He, she or it will be sadly missed." says weirdo #2.\n\nWeirdo #3 says nothing, having tried and succeeded in fitting his entire fist in his mouth.\n\nYou have walked right out of existence.\nYou have FAILED to escape from the Crazy Place.\n\n''FIN''.
'Do you know, Donald,' you announce, 'after a long day's adventuring, there's nothing I crave more than a fish supper.' Donald conveys his assent by means of a studied impression of a codfish.\n\nFortunately, around the next corner you find yourself at the Crazy Place Docks where you are able to charter the //Milky Way,// a ship of 500 tons, provisioned for six months. Twenty-six commercial freezers are built into the hold for the safe storage of the catch, along with a deep fat fryer and five tons of breadcrumb coating. After cracking a bottle of Babycham against the hull, you [[set sail|A Salty Yarn]]...\n
'Alright then!' you say - 'You win! Have your silly clothes back! I didn't want them anyway!' You retrieve the bundle from your trousers and pass it to the nearest of the three people wearing towels.\n\n'Wait a minute,' says the person wearing a towel to whom you just handed the clothes, 'these aren't our clothes - ours must still be in the machine!'\n\n'Oh no,' says the second person wearing a towel, 'I must have forgotten to take them out before we went wandering off wearing towels!'\n\n'We're really sorry,' says the third person wearing a towel. 'The second person wearing a towel is always forgetting things like that.'\n\n'It's true,' says the second person wearing a towel, 'I'm always forgetting to take the clothes out of the machine and things like that.'\n\n'Here, please take them back,' says the first person wearing a towel, 'we're really sorry to have accused you of stealing our clothes when they were in the machine all the time.'\n\nAs the first person wearing a towel hands over the bundle of clothes, you realise that you didn't really want them in the first place. They're not your style at all or even your size. Sheepishly you [[leave the laundry|A Junction]] by a door to the north, vowing to dump the clothes at the first opportunity.\n\n
There is no cheese in this room, but in the room next door you find a huge peice of cheddar at one end of a peice of wood with some kind of spring-loaded contraption attached to it. \n\nWill you [[take the cheese|Snap!]], or [[go down the mousehole|A Familiar Looking Mouse]]?\n
You open the door a crack, to see a lounge room with faded floral wallpaper and a sagging three-piece suite. An old lady is sitting on the sofa, looking rather lonely.\n\nGo into the lounge [[1132]]\nIgnore her and return to the junction [[1030]]
There. The letter is in tatters now. I bet you feel much better. Let's be honest, you were intending to write a letter of complaint and, well, it was hardly that, was it? All you did was make yourself come over as a snivelling little cretin pathetically pleading for mercy.\n\nOf course, all of this is well and good, but the fact that it is Donald telling you all this makes you burst into an irrational rage (and at your age, you really should be careful).\n\nDo you:\n#[[Repeatedly crack Donald over the head with a nearby chair|A Cardboard Chair]]\n#[[Turn your back on him and go it alone|You Decide To Go It Alone]].
'Like ants to a cheese doodle' - says Plugalug as you and Donald venture towards the eastern door, but his companion Juglugs*, to whom this comment was directed, and whom has been at one with the twiglet all this time, is as unheedful of Plugalug's remark as were you of his advice.\n\n<<display 'The Bad Luck Room'>>
It takes a little while to get the hang of it, but soon you are whizzing around the dancefloor like a pro. You can't help but feel a thrill of pride as the dancers step out of your way; thought they try to hide it, the look of admiration on their powdered and bewigged faces is all too clear.\n\nYour confidence gets the better of you, and you decide to try a complete circuit of the Ball, skirting around the orchestra pit and leaping up onto the bar top on the way. Unfortunately your second circuit destabilises the ball, and it begins to roll downhill of its own accord. \n\nThe Rococo furnishings, the disco lights and the lavish costumes become a sickening blur as the ball gathers speed, and with wheels on your feet it is impossible to stay upright. You skid to the floor in a mass of bodies and broken wine glasses, and centrifugal force pins you there like glue. You can barely lift a finger, much less get up.\n\nEventually the Ball hits something hard, a building, a mountain, who knows, shattering the marble shell into two-tonne fragments.\n\n''There are no survivors.''\n
You thrust your arm under the gap between the floor and the Wurlitzer, heaving, scrabbling, sliding your arm this way and that to feel the shoe, the monkey, the bits of broken glass and coins and lint and sticky paradise fluids that have accumulated under there over the years. \n\nAt last your fingers brush against what feels like the snakeskin of your shoe and you grasp it, hard. It’s hissing at you, strangely silky and muscular. Yanking hard you retrieve your shoe and quickly put it on before it bites. It is several moments before you realise that you just shoved your foot into the mouth of a python.\n\nFortunately they can only speak in vowels with feet in their mouths and so you ignore its muffled protests about the state of paradise these days and attempt to walk to the archway, before any more disasters befall you - with its tail curled around the snake actually resembles a Turkish slipper and looks rather stylish. You begin to wish you had another one for your right foot.\n\nDO YOU: \n[[Look under the jukebox for another python to make a matching pair of Poulaines|A Royal Decree]],\n\nOR: \n[[Exit the bar, before the monkeys recompose and attack you again|An Olive Branch]]?\n
"Hey, what is the book all about?" you ask Donald.\n\nHe mutters something about a coiffured mop of hormones and tosses the book aside. He gets up out of the hole, which wasn't that deep. \n\nPicking the book up, you notice that it's about JUSIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!, the celebrated boy-band.\n\nYou delve into the pages, past interviews and photos of they boys, thumbing through to the dodgy adverts at the back: \n\nOption A is to call [[a lady who knows the AtoZ off by heart|A lady who knows the AtoZ off by heart]]. \n\nOption B is a black square with the following number: [[0898-ESCAPE]]\n\nOption 3 is a [[Cut-Out-And-Keep]] ticket to a JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!! concert!
Digging is hard work, especially since you are using a child's plastic spade more suited to making sandcastles on Bournemouth beach than escaping from maximum security cells. After six inches of granite flagstones, four feet of concrete and twenty-four feet of limestone you are ready to give up, the spade having developed a small crack in one of its corners, but Donald urges you to go on. A couple of minutes later you break through the limestone into a substance far more suited to the tool you are using - sand! You attend to your task with renewed vigour. Strangely, the hole soon begins to get bigger of its own accord. The shifting sands drag you and Donald* into the hole as the ground collapses in on itself. After a mere twenty-seven years work (and having missed your release date by five) you have finally escaped from the maximum security wing! \n\nWhen the dust clears you find yourselves sitting on the top of a huge pile of sand, in a circular room with three doors. The room is illuminated by a single shaft of light from the hole far above you. From nowhere, a deep booming voiceover explains 'Behind one of these doors is a clue to escape! But choose carefully... The door on the left has dangers behind, far greater than those behind the door on the left of the door on the right.' \n\n<<display 'Which door will you choose?'>>\nAlternatively, you may [[try to find the corners of the circular room]].\n\n *Donald has for some reason changed out of his yellow jumpsuit and into a Little Bo Peep costume, complete with crook and stuffed sheep. Apparently he thought you were going to choose the other option.
A klaxon sounds above you. As you look up, a giant mechanical arm descends from somewhere in the rafters and grasps you around the middle. A deep, booming voiceover says 'System error. Reject! Reject!' and without further ado you are lifted bodily from the conveyor belt and dumped into a chute. \n\nAfter several minutes of stomach-turning twists and turns you are deposited in a dingy nightclub full of luminous blue custard. You stand around in the custard for a few minutes, wondering whether everyone has days like this, when up pops the Blue Custard Groover. "Hey dude," he says "how's it hangin' man?" \n\nYou wonder \n\n#Whether to [[talk to this creature|Communication Breakdown]], or \n#Whether to [[hang back and let Donald do the talking|All Outa Beat]] for once.
A mirror dives in front of you, and smashes at your feet. This is the bad luck room. A horseshoe falls off the wall and onto your head, whilst you trip over the black cat crossing your path under the ladder. \n\nYour LUCK is reduced by ten points,* and just as you are throwing up on your new shoes, a dentist comes in and pulls out all your teeth. \n\nDo you\n\n[[(a) glue your teeth back in|All Your Teeth Fall Out Again]]\nor [[(b) glue your feet to the floor|Stuck]]? \n\n *Don't forget to deduct this from your total score, which is calculated by rolling a die down an incline of 33.3 degrees and then blowing your nose.
At the end of the tunnel are two doors.\n\nDo you\n\n*[[go through door A|One Door]] (a plain door.)\n*[[go through door B|The Dark Room]] (a door complete with portcullis, swinging axes, slashing knives, spikes on the wall and if that weren't enough, a tripwire. Please do be careful.)
"Last words are for fools who haven't said enough!" you say, frantically wiggling your hips in an effort to unloose the loquacious fruit. They clatter against each other painfully, exclaiming "This is no way to live" and "I'm bored with it all". It is impossible to describe how ridiculous you look, so instead I will describe what Donald is doing, namely, attempting to uproot you using the plastic spade your aunty Bernard gave you four your fourth birthday.\n\nWill you [[continue twerking your nuts off|Shake, Bang]], or [[yell at Donald to stop|Collapse]]?
You have to be stupid to get anywhere in this adventure. You take a sip of the liquid in the cauldron, which tastes exactly like a Gorgonzola fondue, and are instantly transported to another part of the Crazy Place, due to its being a magical fondue.\n\n<<display 'Inside a Cereal Packet'>>\n\n
Heading back the way you came, you soon find Donald, sitting waiting for you. For reasons best left unexplored he's wearing a crudely fashioned feather headdress. Furtively he opens his overcoat, fishes something out and hands it over. It is the Golden Book of So-and-So, fabled receptacle of all known knowledge!\n\n'You stole that? From the Boss's office?' Donald nods. 'That's incredible! Everything that is known by anyone anywhere is inscribed within the pages of this book! We can use it to find out how to escape, or do anything else within the bounds of human experience!'\n\n<<display 'Decisions, Decisions'>>
You have nice dry feet but you have drowned. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
You examine your meal. It looks delicious, though a little familiar. You eat a little of your delicious meal, wondering where you have seen it before, when it suddenly dawns on you that the waiter was a deathwatch Beatle. You suddenly feel rather ill, turn green, flames shoot from your nose before your head explodes.\n\n''FIN.''
Flamenco is a highly technical dance style requiring years of study. Your footling attempts at imitation provoke scorn and derision from the group, but you persist. They begrudgingly allow you to tag along, provided you agree to dance while completely covered with a mantón, or shawl, so that no-one can see you.\n\nA few days later you are practising in a forest clearing. You can see nothing from under your shawl. Suddenly the music stops abruptly. You lift your shawl to find a tape recorder lying by your feet. The musicians and dancers have long gone.\n\nYou wander around for a while looking for them, but find not so much as a castanet. Instead you find Donald, calmly waiting under a chocolate tree.\n\n'Nothing in my life ever goes right!' you wail, [[sobbing|A Party Trick]] into the clown's massive shrub of orange hair.
'Well dear, if that's what you want...' says the old lady, and she goes on to prove that she has a prodigious appetite not only for jelly but also for human flesh. Unfortunately she has no teeth, so it's a slow, slobbery and rather gummy way to go.\n\n''You are dead.''\n\n
Lifting the hat high in the air, you place it on your head. \nIt evaporates once in place, permanently binding its powers to your mind. \nYou are now a teenager with a crush... \n\nIf you have never been a teenager with a crush on a boy click the following link: \n\n[[JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!]]\n\nIf you have never been a teenager with a crush on a girl, click \n\n[[SHAILENE!! SHAILENE!! MARRY ME SHAILENE!!!]]\n\nIf you have no idea who Justin or Shailene could be, [[go to dinner|A Niggling Feeling]].\n\nIf you have had crushes on both teenage boys and teenage girls write down their names on the back of a manilla envelope. \n\nNow assume A is equal to 1 and Z is equal to 26. \nTake the first letter of each crush name, jot the corresponding number and add them up. \nNow divide that by the number of names in the list.\n\n\nIf the sum is greater than 50, you’re crushing on [[JUSTIN!!|JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!]]\nIf the total is less than 50, you’re crushing on [[SHAILENE|SHAILENE!! SHAILENE!! MARRY ME SHAILENE!!!]]\n
You sell your liver and kidneys to get tickets to attend ALL of the JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!! world-tour concerts. \n\nThe flights, the hotels, the transport, the commemorative tour clothes and hurled underwear all added up and so you had to create a popular world-wide-web dot com internet programming company algorithm just to fund the continuation of this activity. \n\nThe company became so successful that when you sell it you have enough money spare to buy JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!’s record label. \n\nThis has made going to all their concerts much easier, you look up to the sky and ...\n[[Ponder the beauty that is the lead singer.|Ponder the beauty that is the lead singer.]]\n
When you try to saw the magician in half you find he is too small to fit in the box. He gives you a magic ball. When you take it from him a hatch opens up in the top of the ball. The Boss's head springs out and calls you a baby. 'How do you like my Boss-in-a-ball?' asks the magician. He takes his water squirting cheese cake and leaves the room.\n\n<<display 'A Yak-Infested Storeroom'>>
After shouting at Donald about the mysteries of life for something like an hour he gives up, and tells you the password to a magical sword. You shout the password, 'Kentilla!' and as if by magic, the shopkeeper appears.\n\n<<display 'Go with the man from the shop'>>
As you make your way into the mountainside, the tunnel becomes darker and dingier. You tread softly, trying to make as little noise as you can for fear of waking some subterranean monster. This is not difficult, as the deep pile carpet on the floor makes your footsteps inaudible. The only sound is the drip, drip of slime as it oozes between the gaps in the polystyrene tiling above your head, and splats onto Donald's nose. Suddenly the tunnel widens out, and you find yourself at the entrance to a large stone chamber. There is something damp and squishy under your feet. It appears to be mouldy semolina. \n\n'What a disgusting place!' you say, wading deeper into the semolina. On the other side of the chamber is the entrance to another passage, and you are just wondering whether it will be possible to wade across when there is a sudden movement in the semolina.\n\nA huge and terrifying monster rears its ugly head above the putrid dessert food. It has the head of a vulture, the eyes of a crab, the body of a flounder and the legs of a spider! And that's just its lunch; you should see what the monster looks like!\n\nChoose: \n\n#[[If you want to turn back|Dilemma!]], or \n#[[If you don't|You Hide Under The Circumstances]].
Nanny leans over the pram, cooing insensible cooings. There is something very familiar about that ruddy rubber bulb of a nose, that mass of tangerine tangles and that faint, yet unmistakable whiff of hamburgers, but your infant mind can't quite make the connection. Suddenly Nanny's already pallid features are [[sicklied o'er with the pale cast of panic|No Hair And No Teeth]]...
'Plugalug at your service!' he says. 'The time is a quarter to three.' As you shake his strange triangular hand (one of which is larger than the other) you realise you are grasping the arrow of time itself! You tell the huge clock of your mission to escape from the Crazy Place. \n\nIf you wish, you may \n<<<\n[[(1)|Thisaway or Thataway?]] Ask him to point you in the right direction, \nIf the 'phone rings, choose [[(2)|A Telephone Call]]. \nDO NOT CHOOSE [[(3)|Can't You Read?]].\n<<<\n\n
Peering into the hole, you can see a maze of passages somewhat like the inside of a Swiss cheese. There is, however no sign of Donald. \n\n[[Follow him down the hole|Crumbs]]\n[[Proceed across this strange terrain without him]]\n
For the past few months the fish have been dredging every last morsel of marine life from the ocean, to serve as part of the crew. But these sea creatures contributed significantly to the total volume of the ocean, and without them it is at most only three feet deep. The ship has run aground on a mountain of plastic bags, bottles and abandoned shopping trolleys.\n\n'Abandon ship!' Shrieks the octopus, and he throws himself over the side, landing rather painfully in a pile of 'Little Mermaid' action figures. Desperate to stay ahead of the tide of boiling chip fat, the rest of the crew quickly follow suit.\n\nDonald helps disentangle you from the shrimping net, and together your hurl yourselves over the rail to [[freedom|Wet Wet Wet]].\n
'I don't know,' grumbles the doppelgänger, 'some people...' \n\nWhen your double has gone a reasonable distance, you decide to follow hoping to find out where this strange yet familiar person is in such a hurry to get to. The double wanders through a maze of narrow passages which, though new to you, your double seems quite familiar with. Unfortunately the doppleganger notices that you are in pursuit, and manages to lose you in the twisting labyrinth. This puts you in a foul mood. You wander fruitlessly through the maze exploring every passageway until finally you arrive back at the doorway you started out from. Here you find the doppleganger, standing on the other side and staring at you as though you were some kind of art exhibit. By now you are really annoyed. \n\n'Are you going to get out of my way,' you snap, 'or do I have to punch you in the nose?'\n\n[[Punch your double in the nose|Fight!]]\n[[Wait for your doppelgänger to stand aside|Followed!]]
Almost exactly two minutes later you are awoken by the sound of alarm bells. You leap ouy of bed screaming 'Fire! Fire!'\n\n<<display 'Plugalug'>>
When you reopen your eyes you are amazed to find that you have succeeded in jumping the cliff and have landed the car safely on the other side. \n\n'Very good,' says the driving instructor making a note on his clip-board, 'but next time don't forget to check in your rear-view mirror. It's a matter of personal preference I suppose, but I always like to know who I've run over.' \n\n'I reckon I could get the hang of this,' you say, suddenly rather pleased with yourself. \n\nLesson over, you clamber out of the car. The driver shuffles over to the driving seat, says 'same time next week?' and promptly reverses off the cliff. There is a brief pause, followed by a muffled explosion.\n\n'Oh well,' you say. 'Come on Donald, let's [[take a look around|An Arboreal Paradise]].'\n
Just to the north of your luxurious, air-conditioned, fully serviced, executive office suite are a pair of double doors leading into your simply gigantic walk-in closet. <<display 'Closet'>>
In a panic you start to sing a lullaby to the crocodills. It goes:- \n\n<html><center>My pants are on fire,<br>\nMy legs are from Barking,<br>\nMy swivelly ankles<br>\nAre no good at parking.</center></html>\nThe crocodills sit and stare at you bewildered. Then the head crocodill, distinguishable by her bright headscarf, asks 'are you going to strip for us now?' \n\nChoose: \n\n\t1. [[If you want to perform a striptease|Arrested!]], \n\t2. [[If you'd like to give the head crocodill a big kiss on the snout|Margarine]].
Oh. So it wasn't racist at all. It was some utter gibberish about going to work on (or in) an ostrich. Baffled, you are caught unawares as a really odd looking vulture swoops down from on high and takes you back to its web (I told you it was odd).\n\n"You dare to insult the mighty ostrich", it says. "We ostriches are easy offended and right now I am furious".\n\nI'm not sure if you have the heart to tell him he's not actually an ostrich. Are you going to [[tell him|Not an Ostrich]] or [[not|Idle Conversation]]?\n
Congratulations! You have chosen the least dangerous door. <<display 'Hummock Room'>>
You bring down the instrument on the heads of the crocodills again and again, knocking most of them senseless and the rest of them unconscious. The senseless ones attempt to cross the pacific on a paper dart and fail dismally. You are safe, but unfortunately your violin is beyond repair. Finding a previously unnoticed inscription inside, you see that it was originally made by one 'Stradivarius'. (But since you didn't really own it anyway I wouldn't get too upset.)<<set $inventory.splice($inventory.indexOf("A violin"), 1)>>\n\nReturning to the junction, you may now either go \n<<<\n#[[north-east|A dead end]] or\n#[[south-west|An Underground River]].\n<<<\n
The door opens onto a strangely inviting room whose floor is dotted with soft hummocks and knolls. <<display 'Sleep Deprivation'>>
'I'd like to give a big thank you to everywhere I've ever been and everything I've ever done, and in particular those things which we each take for granted; brushing our teeth, combing our hair, writing a note to the milkman, checking down the back of the sofa for small change - things without which lives such as mine would not have been possible…' \n\nYour speech seems to have sent everyone to sleep, so the compère swiftly moves on to the nominees for 'best looney on the bus.' Since, in heaven, everybody wins something, the list of catagories is interminable. Now that your own moment of glory has passed you seem resigned to a fate of listening to other people's speeches for all eternity. \n\n[[Drink yourself into a senseless stupor|Imogene and her Electric Poodle]]\n[[Try to find a exit|The Exit]]
Your LUCK score is now zero.\nYour STRENGTH score is zero.\nYou have lost everything you were carrying.\nYou are now a centipede with all its legs broken.\n[[1041]]
You pop the mint into your mouth and suck. Blowing into the bottom of the balloon causes it to rise quickly. The lance misses by miles. "Phew!" you say to Donald, "That was close!" Suddenly a bird flies straight into the balloon, bursting it with its sharp beak. Well, it could have been worse. If the balloon had burst earlier you would have been captured by that knight. As it is you have landed right in the middle of the sea, which is nice and soft.\n\n<<display 'Wet Feet'>>
You are confronted by an alarm clock with a hamburger for a hat. His name, he tells you is Plugalug. Raising his undistinguished headgear he chimes 33 times and hands you a lemon.<<set $inventory.push("A lemon")>>\n\nIf you have met Plugalug before, [[you greet your old friend warmly|Around and Around]]. Otherwise, [[you don't|Plugalug At Your Service]].
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
'Ooh! I'm glad you chose that one, my little chickadee!' says Mr. Tibbles, hopping skittishly from one dainty tassled loafer to the other, 'it’s such a pretty little doll, and just for you I’ve dressed it in a lovely pink dress.' He hands you a doll that looks exactly like you. You look down to find you are wearing a pink dress exactly the same as the one the doll is wearing.\n\n[[Give the doll to Donald for safekeeping|Attacked by a Mad Acupuncturist!]]\n[[Give the creepy thing back to Mr. Tibbles and choose one of the other items|The Legendary Hot Voodoo]]\n
'Who was it?' You ask. There is no reply. Plugalug has fallen asleep, and judging by the time on his face (a quarter to eight!) it's high time you did the same. You drift into a deep sleep in which you dream that the room is full of ducks.\n\n'Panhandlers!' says Plugalug, who is having the same dream. The ducks take offence and chase him out of the room. You may [[follow them through a door to the west|A Maze of Passages]], or [[head eastwards|An Ominous Grating Noise]] instead. Alternatively, you may try to [[pinch yourself awake|Some Or Other Page]].
After taking several wrong turns you find yourself at a junction. \n\nA high wall is to the west. On the left of the passage is a mirror in the wall. To the east you can see a turning in the passage.\n\n[[Investigate the mirror|Double Trouble]]\n[[Sashay jauntily eastwards|A Rickety Looking Elevator]]\n[[Attempt in vain to climb the wall|Ladder]] (which is preposterously high and devoid of footholds)
Spread before you is an unbroken vista of trees, topped off with a lid of cerulean blue.\n\n"We've done it!" you say to Donald, hugging the clown rather more tightly than you intended to, "We've escaped from the Crazy Place!" But something doesn't quite feel right about this sylvan setting. Perhaps it's that the birdsong is on a loop. Or that the soft summer breeze smells of glue.\n\nOn closer inspection, it's clear that this forest is phony. The trees are all made from cardboard tubes, the sky an expanse of azurean Artex, bedangled with cotton-wool clouds. A squirrel, peering out from its arboreal attic, turns out to have been knitted - poorly. It doesn't even have the right number of legs.\n\nOn the forest floor (brown painted floorboards strewn with paper leaves), a path can be seen picked out in magnolia. A little way ahead the path splits.\n\n[[Take the right hand fork|The Right Hand Fork]]\n[[Take the left hand fork|The Left Hand Fork]]\n
You hug Osvult. Gently, hesitantly, he hugs you back. Against incredible odds, on this night of abysmal darkness and torrential rain, have you finally found a friend in this socially estranged, taxonomically confused bird?\n\n‘Osvult!’ You say. Pronouncing it correctly, for once, ‘why so distraught? Does it really matter if you’re an ostrich or not?’ \n\n‘I know I’m not really an ostrich,’ he says. ‘It’s just that I’ve always felt that I was an ostrich trapped in the body of a piglet...’\n\n‘Oh, lord.’ you say. This is more complicated than you thought. Can he really believe he’s a piglet? He has feathers. And a great hooked beak like a sickle.\n\nHe looks very much like a vulture, really, but then appearances can be deceiving. Perhaps it isn’t necessary to put him in a category. \n\nYou stroll off, hand in foot. Well, it’s more of a hopping, since it’s your own foot in your hand. Osvult, despite thinking he’s a piglet doesn’t have feet - he has wings, so he sort of flaps alongside you, humming to himself a light, upbeat tune. He certainly cheered up quickly. [[A thought occurs to you|Shrinking]].\n\n
"That's it!" You cry, waving your tiny manicured fists in the air. "You are so going to get your ass kicked, sister!" You quickly scrawl down a letter on your My Little Pony notepaper: \n<<<\n//March 5, 1766, five o'clock in the morning. \n\nMy Lord, today when you stole my boyfriend, Your Excellency insulted\nme quite wilfully, having no reason or right to act in such a manner \nin my regard. This being so, I must conclude that you despise me, \nmy lord, and that you therefore wish to see me removed from the \nnumber of the living. I can and will satisfy your excellency in this. \nAfter school, outside the mall. \nI am so going to kick your ass, sister.\n\nYour Excellency's most humble and obedient servant \nSo-and-so.//\n<<<\nAfter reading this, Susie merely sighs condescendingly. \n\n"You know, you should really deal with those anger issues of yours. I mean seriously." she hands you a small white card. "That's my shrink, Mr. Biglet. You should give him a call. He really helped me through my bad hair day." With that Susie flounces out of the room, Donald in tow.\n\nWill you \n*[[Pay Mr. Biglet a call|The Autodefenestration of Mr Biglet]], to deal with your anger issues?\n*[[Go to the Prom without a date|Embarrassment]], and hope for the best?\n*[[Join the French Foreign Legion|The French Foreign Legion]] in order to forget all about Donald?\n*Continue your mission to [[escape from the Crazy Place|Through The Wardrobe]], but without Donald's assistance?\n
You walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk [[etc|Two Doors]].
You find yourself clutching a banana.\n\n'A formidable weapon,' says Plugalug, 'use it with care.'\n\n'Wait! Which way should we go?' you ask, but it's too late, Plugalug has drifted off into the distance like a bad movie special effect from the Seventies. You'll just have to take pot luck.<<set $inventory.push("The Golden Banana of Discord")>>\n\n<<<\n*[[Thisaway|Combat Without Weapons or Ballet Rambo]]\n*[[Thataway|Fissure]]\n<<<\n
'Gosh, that's a tough one, old chap,' says the gnome, stroking his chin. 'How about this: If at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried!'\n\nFrom the look on your face it must be pretty clear that you're less than inspired. The gnome shrugs. 'That's the best advice I can give. It's pretty shallow, but it helps.'\n\nYou sigh. 'I just wish that there was some way... How can I put this? Some way to transcend the impermanence of our being, and escape the endless cycle of life and death...'\n\nThe fat gnome looks at you knowingly, nods and says 'would you care to join me in smoking this chocolate? It will take you far away from this crazy place to a land far superior...'\n\nDo you want to [[join him for a smoke|The Hours Drag]],\nOr go into the [[first door on the left|Start]], which is marked 'You'll regret this'.
You have had copies of all of JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!’s tattoos tattooed on you. \nNot just the lead singer, but the entire band is replicated across your fleshy canvas. \n\nThree of the members have tattoos on their shoulders, so you’ve had those tattoos replicated, in the correct locations. They mostly overlap each other. \nIt’s a bit of a mess to be honest. \n\nYou also decide to get your [[liver and kidneys tattooed also.|You still have your liver and kidneys]]\n
So that's your idea of fun, is it? Going around stomping on innocent people? I'm not sure I want characters like you in my book. In fact I'm not going to write about you any more. So nyeh. \n\n''You are dead.''
Due to the fall, you lose five points of damage.* Looking around you notice a doorway just wide enough to crawl through.\n\n[[Go for it|The Bad Luck Room]] \n[[Listen at the door first|A Cry For Help]]? \n\n *Don't forget to deduct this from your total score, which is calculated by counting the hairs on a gnat's chest and dividing by three.
Donald’s usual frump of candy-pink rouge-ish hair is sparkly with glitter, he flicks his hair about like a long-haired person leaving the ocean may do to attract attention. \n \nThe 30cm pan-global layer of glitter has made the sea a lot more viscous and by borrowing some of Donald’s spare clown shoes you’re able to stand on the surface of the gloopy, undulating surface. On the horizon is a mirage, a stereotypical desert island!!! \n\nA hump and a palm tree are your salvation! Mmm. Coconuts are good for lots of things, you say to yourself, checking your blood-plasma levels. \nThe levels are fine, for now, but you’re relieved to have coconuts nearby anyway, just in case. \n\nYou [[wade your way to the island|The Island]], Donald follows in his usual shoes.
Suddenly you remember that you have a magic sword. You can't remember where you picked it up - you've been hitting the booze a bit hard lately and some of your recent adventures are slightly foggy - but there's no point in relying on tooth and claw when you've got that bad boy stashed away in your inventory. You pull it out.\n\n<<display 'BRUNTOR THE BARBARIAN'>>
You grab one end of the bandage and tug. This causes the whole bandage-entangled figure to fall off its display pedestal, landing on its head. Worried that you might have killed it, you are looking around for a place to hide from the police when the mummy gives a muffled groan and its limbs twitch into life. You sigh with relief, but quickly stop sighing when it throws its padded hands around your scrawny neck and begins to squeeze. \n\nStruggling free from its grip, you can either: \n<<<\n#Duck through a small doorway into [[a room full of suits of armour|The Armoury]], or \n#Dash through an ornate Gothic archway into [[a room full of baroque ironwork|Assorted Archaic Artefacts]] and polished marble pillars in the Moorish style. \n<<<
It is pitch black, so you fumble in the pocket of your pintsize mammothskin, finding a gas lighter. Upon lighting the lighter you illuminate the cave with a dull orange glow. You can see in one corner of the cave a pool of water.\n\n[[Walk over and examine the pool|A Pool of Water]]\n[[Try to find an exit|Behold! Enlightenment! Illumination!]]\n
You could argue that it is rather unreasonable of me to present you with such an array of unlikely solutions to a problem that could be solved much more easily by logical means. You could say that I ought to have given you the option of, say, rubbing the ropes that bind your hands against some sharp bit on the back of the chair, or crying for help, or trying to wriggle free. But then why should I? You're not real, you're only a character in a book. My book. \n\nSo what will it be? Choose: \n\n#[[If you're willing to give it a try|Bolted!]]. \n#[[Otherwise just GIVE UP|Doomed!]]! \n\n
You’re at work. Being a music executive. \nYou see in your inbox that there is going to be a prom, and JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!! will be playing at it! \n\nYou know this because you arranged a spectacular ball so you could go to it. \n\nYou’ve already seen them a hundred times live already, but this time MAYBE this time this is the one where you’ll have the courage to walk up to the lead singer and speak. Say who you are and why you must marry him, despite the mess his face is in after launching all those ships. \n\nYou’ve worked hard to get to the position you’re in, just for that moment. \nYou might be sufficiently successful now to impress him, maybe a one-to-one meeting in your glass office might be the place to declare undying love. \n\nDo you: \n\n[[Call him in for a meeting|Call him in for a meeting!]], now you know why you love him so. \n\n[[Select some AMAZING clothes to wear to the prom|Into The Closet]], hoping to get over this shyness.\n\n
Deeper and deeper you go. The well worn steps of the spiral staircase seem to be without end. \n\n'But it can't be much further to the bottom,' you say to yourself, and [[curiosity drives you on|You Descend The Stairs]]...
\n“Hi there.” HE swaggers in. \nYour mind says “Aaaaaaahhhhh” and your heart and lungs do that thing. \n\nIn the time you’ve owned the company you’ve not had the chance to meet. \n\nWell, in truth you were afraid to meet - what if the dream was not the reality? \nWhat if this being, whose posters you’ve had on the insides of your coat pockets, walls, purse / wallet / car-interior was not who you dreamed of ? \n\nWhat then, do you switch to one of the other members of JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!? Did they even have names? One was blonde, you like blonde. \n\nBut there he is.. \nIn your mind, he was taller. You admit it, but still he’s quite an attractive man - lovely long eyelashes, flared nostrils and well groomed humps that are stylishly decorated with a red fez on each peak.\n \nYou realise that there is nothing to say, you have to be in his arms immediately. \n\nEloquently hopping over your desk you slide across the glossy floor towards him... but you keep sliding! \n\nThe executive office floor is polished so smoothly that you careen towards him - arms spread and thinking quickly, in an attempt to recover this debacle you yell “I love you!” - thinking that this response is what he’s used to and would know what to do. \n\nYou have emergency underpants in a pocket, which you pull out and throw in the air.\n\nSadly he knows exactly how this goes and steps aside as you slide past by and through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows!\n\n[[You are falling out of a tall building]]\n
‘Donald!’ you scream, clutching the clown by the straps of his dungarees. ‘What are you doing here? How in god’s name did you get into my subconscious?’\n\nDonald shrugs and points behind you. You turn around to find that someone has installed a revolving door. Moments later the most private recesses of your unconscious mind have been invaded. ‘Halt, Peasant!’ says the Captain of the Royal Guard, ‘Only nobles may wear poulaines with toes more than two feet long, by Royal Decree! Take them off right this minute, or face death, by my sword!’ You begin to point out to the Captain that since you are now a disembodied consciousness, you no longer have any shoes, nor any feet for that matter, but are interrupted by the monkey waiter who is carrying an astronomical drinks bill on a silver plate. Apparently the drinks weren’t free after all.\n\nYou hurl yourself [[through the revolving door|Where the sun goes before it rises]], wedging it shut behind you. The monkey waiter and the Captain of the Royal Guard are now permanently trapped in your subconscious, so thankfully you have no conscious memory of them, but for the rest of your life you are troubled by inexplicable dreams about Turkish slippers and unpaid bar tabs.
At the end of the corridor is a large sign which reads:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">DO NOT READ THIS SIGN<br>by order of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nStanding either side of the sign are two gorillalike goons dressed in the official uniform of the Crazy Place Guard.\n\n'Hoi!' grunts the one on the left. 'Have you read this sign?'\n\nWhat will your answer be?\n\n[['No, that would be against the rules!'|Contradiction]]\n[['No, I just don't feel like it right now.'|Oh Really?]]\n[['Yes of course, it looked important.'|Lawbreaker]]\n[['I can't read.'|Illiterati]]\n\n\n\n\n
"Hideous poodle burgers take more Mormon soldiers in one calendar year than the Duke of Oslo in a [[pushbike CRUMBLE|Pushbike Crumble Recipe]]... yes it's noteworthy slope time said hoodlum to renaissance qwertyuio...." you shout at the top of your voice. To your astonishment, a messenger pigeon then flies onto your shoulder. The note tied to its foot reads : "The presence of yonder castle whack requests yeast for dessert. Incidentally no poodle burgers. They've gone to Fulham." \n\nDo you: \n<<<\n#[[Gibber on some more to the pigeon|Berating Nerys]], or \n#[[ask the pigeon its name|You Meet Your Soul Mate]]?\n<<<\n\n
Until finally the machine finishes the spin cycle and the little orange light goes dead indicating that you may [[open the door|PINK]].
You are served up a pair of socks in a rich creamy sauce. They are delicious. Later on, Donald arrives with one of those "get well" cards that play the Japanese national anthem backwards when you open them and continue to do so when you close them, stamp on them, tear them into little pieces and allow them to simmer for four hours in a saucepan of benzene at gas mark 3. You thank him and quickly staple it shut when he's not looking. \n\nThree days later you are still lying on your moth-spital bed, tucking into one of your sheets, as you have long since finished your clothes. You are about to start on the blankets when the moth-doctor arrives, beaming. \n\n"Good news!" he says, "You've made a complete recovery and can go home whenever you like." \n\n"We'd prefer it if you went sooner, rather than later," adds the moth-nurse, "it's nothing personal, but the moth-spital is running rather low on bedding." \n\nFive minutes later you are standing outside the moth-spital with Donald, empty suitcase in hand, ready to continue with your adventure. From here you can head either [[east, through a small wooden doorway|The Lure of Madam Luna]], or [[west along a narrow stone passageway|The Lure of Madam Luna]].\n \n\n\n\n\n
You find eight corners belonging to a large treasure chest, which was partially buried under the sand. 'What did I tell you, Donald? 'X' marked the spot!' you say, gleefully anticipating the treasures within. Unfortunately, you don't have the key to this chest.\n\nYou may either \n\ni. [[Try to open it with your bare hands]],\nii. [[Bring it with you in the hope of finding the key later|A Hefty Chest]], or\niii. [[Forget about it and choose one of the doors|Which door will you choose?]].\n
You are ambling aimlessly down the long, damp, winding passageway whilst not wearing rubber soled shoes when you come to a large wooden door with a copper door handle. A low hum can be heard. \n\nWill you \n\n\t1. [[Try the door|All at once you spy a crowd]], \n\tor 2. [[Head back the way you came?|DEAD END]]\n
Halfway down the passage you take a peek at the contents of the Boss's bag and instantly wish you hadn't. It contains the Boss's dirty laundry and the stench is intolerable. 'I don't see why I should be expected to do his laundry!' you grumble to yourself. 'I've got a quest to be getting on with.' Nevertheless you decide to keep the bag, on the off chance that it may come in useful. A short while later, you come across Donald sitting in the corridor waiting for you. After discussing your recent adventures, you decide to explore the maze of passages which unfold before you. <<set $inventory.push("A bag of dirty laundry")>>\n\nWhich way will you go? \n\n#[[Along a brightly lit corridor to the north|CAUTION FLOOR WET]] \n#[[Down a rough-hewn passageway to the east|An Ominous Grating Noise]], or \n#[[Through a sturdy wooden door to the west|Into the Woods]]
On your second attempt the wall collapses, and together you stumble into what appears to be some kind of discount warehouse. It is stocked to the gunwales with consumer items of every conceivable sort; remaindered copies of the Holy Bible (signed by the author), rubber nipple protectors (size 5), a box of assorted snowflakes, a horse's arse reflected in a mirror, a set of smoked-glass coffee-tables, white patent-leather Cuban-heeled shoes, pens &c. &c.\n\nA piping voice pipes over the Tannoy: "Congratulations my little chickadoodle doo doos! You've escaped from the Bad Luck Room - no-one's ever done that before, how very vexing, I mean to say how very venturesome!\n\nNever mind. Your troubles are behind you, my little coochie custards! You're in the Bargain Basement now, where anything goes and everything MUST go!\n\nTake a look around - there's bound to be something to tickle your fancy, and if you fancy a tickle, just give me a tinkle!"\n\nNow that the nauseating tirade has abated, you may either [[take a look around|Deadly Weapons Going Cheap]] or [[head straight for the exit|Lift Entrance]].
Donald finds the mint in his 37th pocket. \n\nYou now have either to \n<<<\na) [[Suck the mint and blow into the balloon|BIRD STRIKE]], \nb) [[Jump out of the balloon|Eels]], or \nc) [[Throw the mint out of the balloon|Tellurium]].\n<<<\n\n
You manage to depress the play switch and listen intently. After several minutes of irritating muzak a monotonous voice reads the following message: \n\n'When Bob and Joy had enough sense to act correctly without altering his course, Dad got crook during the shearing when his fingers flashed out and flagged us down for a lift. It seemed to turn converging harmlessly into space. Some of the reflecting surfaces and the fingertip of rock where I swim in darkness. The sea flooded, 10,000 miles out to everyone's surprise like a seal.' The tape runs out with a click. \n\nSelect from the following options: \n\n#[[Listen to it again|The Ballad of Bob and Joy]]\n#[[Attempt to untie yourself|Rhinestone Covered White Satin Flares]]\n#[[Attempt to rescue Donald|Juglugs]]
“In the past people used Mother Nature as a metaphor to portray sex as a natural thing and not a crime punishable by eternal damnation, especially interspecies relations - such as birds and bees. Usually it’s told to little children in a non-frightening way. It is especially important to let the young understand the danger of unwanted pregnancy in same-species sex and the improbability of any other kind of pregnancy resulting from anything other than same-species sex, yet somehow conveying that avoiding pregnancy this way is frowned upon in most modern cultures.” You speak monotonously, trying to not make it exciting in case Osvult gets the wrong idea. \n\nAs you walk and talk you pass an irritated prophet, nailed to the floor. He scrapes some dust up and predicts a sandstorm, but it doesn’t reach you. \n\n“Ooh, look! A prophet!” You cry, trying to move the conversation on from sex, since you’re feeling awkward. Sadly Osvult has cottoned-on that this is a taboo topic for you and asks further questions. \n\n“What does the bee do to the bird?” he asks, wide eyed, still holding you by the lapels. \n“Well. .. It. uhm. It’s kind of not like that. It’s oh.” \n\nYou’re feeling SO embarrassed. Why didn’t they teach kids this at school! You give a sigh. How to explain this without actually mentioning nookie at all?\n\n“It’s like this. The lady lays an egg and the man makes little tadpoles and the stork takes the egg and leaves it in a cabbage patch and the tadpoles swim towards it or something and when one of them gets there it hatches and then the bees make some honey and everybody has a picnic!” you say as quickly as you can.\n\nThis does not help. \nOsvult’s eyes are even wider than ever! It’s not going away! He asks more questions:\n\n“How does the man make tadpoles! I thought tadpoles came from ladyfrogs! This is so confusing!” You can see the frustration in his beady vulture *cough* ‘piggy’ eyes. \n\nYou give another sigh, which weighs about a kilo, so feeling much lighter you prance off into the forest. \n\nOsvult follows you, asking further questions about bees’ stingers and cloacas and isn’t Stork a kind of margarine, and wasn’t she the former leader of the government in the Canadian Senate....\n\nThe poor bird’s bird-brain must be fizzing with confusion, so you decide to remain quiet and let him unfluster. As a distraction, you hum the tune to the song “Margarine”, which happens to have the same baseline as the titular tune to a popular '70s sitcom about people living in suburbia with chickens and whatnot.\n\nDo you know how it goes? \n\n[[Yes I do!|Crème Anglaise]]\n[[No! I do not!|French Margarine]]\n\n
'Ooh, later you saucy beast!' she says as you attempt tonsil contact with the crocodill. 'Sing more for me. Sing "Margarine".' So you sing: - \n\n'I put my margarine on wheels and left it on the windowsill, then later it was full of eels, I sold them to the postman. He said "I really wanted mice" so I cooked up a bowl of rice then he stood up and punched me twice, and said it was too creamy. The Butler interrupted us, he said "oh dear, we've missed the bus", the milkman's face was full of pus, we tried to just ignore him. But he insisted "I will pay for your Jamaican holiday", then off he went to St Tropez on his magic trampoline. Then yesterday my good friend Dave got stuck inside his microwave, he ended up with nasty burns upon his toes, then back the milkman came again upon his special custard train, he left a tub of margarine then went upon his way.' \n\n'Mm, I love that song,' says the croc, and you embark upon [[a night of passion|A Fuzzy Orange Thing]].
You turn off the hair dryer. Everyone is saved and cheer you for being such a hero. \n\n\nThe whole world holds a parade in your name, ticker-tape and glitter is everywhere. \nThe party goes on until the power-stations run down, transportation stops and the world is covered in a layer of glitter approximately 30cm deep.\n\nIf you are knowingly within 5m of glitter - choose [[THIS OPTION|Glitter! Glitter Everywhere]]\nIf you’re not knowingly within 5m of glitter, you are always within 5m of glitter, it’s a known fact. Click the link above now you’re properly educated. \n
'I understand you are trying to escape from the Crazy Place,' says the Yogi. 'Well, since you have proven yourselves worthy, I am prepared to bargain with you. Bring me the Golden Book of So-and-So, fabled receptacle of all known knowledge by noon today and I will release you. Fail, and I will turn you into a pumpkin, and Donald into four white mice wearing glass slippers.' \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n>>[[Accept the challenge|The Labyrinth]], or \n>>[[Spit in his eye|Talcum Powder]]? \n
You kick the machine several times, and on your third kick it stops, and ejects a rather wet Donald. 'How are you feeling, Donald?' you ask. Donald says he's feeling deep-down clean.\n<<set $donald_drowning = false>>\n[[Take the clothes|Three People Wearing Towels]]\n[[Don't take the clothes|Hamburger Decision]]
Slowly you drift off.....\n\nYou are in an office, wearing a dull tie, a boring shirt and shiny shoes. It's not entirely clear to you what your job entails, because you body is on autopilot, emptying your intray, adding up rows of numbers, writing letters to customers, while your mind cavorts amid colourful forests of paper trees. Every fifteen minutes, some bloke comes up and moans at you for being too slow, and every minute seems to last fifteen.\n\nWill you [[carry on smoking the chocolate|The Top Floor]]?\nOr go [[back to the real world|Start]]?\n
Shake, bang, shake, bang. That is the sound you hear as the milky drupes collapse to the dewy grass beneath your feet, their last discernible quote being, in unison, "Ah well, I suppose it has come to this" before exploding in Donald's face, distracting him from digging and making him look like a Geisha girl. For the first time in what seems like a millennium, you laugh. Over and over again.\n\nWithout a word, Donald flings away the plastic spade, turns his back on you and strides away across the dunes, 'Stranger on the Shore' by Mr. Acker Bilk his only accompaniment. The waves pound the shore. The ocean breeze ruffles your leaves. The days pass. Within a few short years you have forgotten you were ever anything but a palm tree. You are part of the Crazy Place now. Life is good.\n\nTHE END\n\nBut there are many other endings to this story ... [[start again|Start]].\n
Or is it Japanese? Does it matter? Five of one and nothing of the other.\n\n"Remember what the alarm clock said." says the Cow of Honour.\n\n"Feed your head?" you ask, nonplussed.\n\n"No, you silly moo. We're all living in a computer program. You can X-it whenever you want." And with that she floats off into the distance like a bad 1970s special effect.\n\nWill you do as she suggests, or carry on [[escaping from the Crazy Place|Intersection]]?
Donald stares at you as though you are some kind of alien from another planet and says\n\n'I'll have you know that being tied up to a chair is the biggest participation sport in this neck of the woods. I know people who would kill to be in the world chair entrapment semi final like you. And here comes one of them now; meet Gentle Geoffrey, local machete wielding maniac of the Crazy Place.' \n\nDo you \n\n#[[Run very very very fast|A Tissue Of Scar Tissue]] even though you are tied to a chair, or \n#[[Shut your eyes and cry|You Are Placed Up For Sale]] in the hope he will go away?
'No - not the rug!' Cry Aunty and Uncle in unison, 'That was the one material possession the Yogi let us keep! We'll never find another one like it!' \n\n'Teleport Donald and I out of the Crazy Place or the rug gets it!' You demand. \n\n'We can't do that!' confesses Uncle. 'Our powers are limited to the Crazy Place!' \n\n'In that case,' you reply 'You can give me the book and send us straight back to the Yogi. Maybe he can.' Miserably Aunty hands you the golden tome and the two romper suited figures begin making magic passes... \n\nAnd if you do not know whether you succeeded in seeing the Yogi, and if so what passed between you, you must listen to the [[next chapter|Yet More Stuff To Read With No Choices At The End]]...
"A wig sir/madam. Of course. I'm sorry. It's just that..." and here the wig-seller stifles a sob, "I never really wanted to be a wig-seller. I always wanted to be a carpet-fitter, but the careers adviser, he told me I should be more realistic, and..." He bursts into tears. Desperately, you grab the nearest wig ( a grandiose powdered Pompadour affair with pink ribbons ) and dash for the door, shutting it carefully behind you. \n\nOnce safely outside, you put on the wig, but it feels uncomfortable. You remove it to find that it has been stuffed with sheets of paper to help it keep its shape. When you remove the them, it deflates like a balloon. When you put it back on you look like an old granny who thinks she's one of the Beatles. \n\nWill you: \n\n#[[Attend the party|The Door Falls off the refrigerator]], or\n#[[Skip it and go to a gig instead|Bob Holness]]\n
You make a run for it, secure in the knowledge that the P-L-O-T is too bloated to follow. In the far distance you see another pair of black and white pillars - the hind legs of the Cow. For the first time you notice that the Cow's belly is painted with a pattern of luminous stars. And you thought it was just a flashy pattern on the gym floor.\n\nAs you draw nearer you are dismayed to see another pair of letters clinging to the cow's knees. The left knee is adorned with a rubbery letter B, whilst the right knee sports a J.\n\n'Maybe we can start all over' warbles B-Oncé.\n\n'How you think I got the name Hova?' mumbles J-Zee.\n\n'Enough!' you cry, covering your ears and eyes and running blindly forward, and you crash full face into a mountain of blubber. You look up to see what appears to be a gigantic rubber glove, with five fat fingers pointing straight up.\n\n'The Five Fingered Hand...' you say in wonderment, but a booming voice soon puts you right.\n\n'You're looking at everything [[the wrong way up|As Above, So Below]]!'\n\n
You run away like a coward, motioning Donald to do the same. But Donald, who has misinterpreted your wild gesticulations, thought you meant run away like a cow. He has managed to turn into one but cannot run because all four of his feet are stuck in an eggcup.\n\nWill you:\n<<<\n#[[Keep running?|A Bad Dream]]\n#[[See a psychiatrist?|The Autodefenestration of Mr Biglet]]\n<<<\n
"I'm Atlas," says the man, "and I'll tell you what I'm doing here dude; I'm holding the world up! I'm holding the whole frickin' world up here, dude!" \n\n"Is that right?" You ask, with perhaps just the faintest hint of condescension in your voice. \n\n"Seriously, dude!" replies Atlas, "Without me this whole planet would just be, like, falling through space or something. Just falling through space, and when it hits the ground, well, we'd all be..." He makes a squishy noise with his mouth. \n\n"Really," you ask, "We'd all be (squishy noise)?" \n\n"Totally, dude," replies Atlas seriously. "Say buddy, you couldn't do me a favour, could you? Only I really need to take a bathroom break, and I kinda need someone to cover for me." \n\n"You want me to stand on my head?" \n\n"I need you to hold up the world for me dude. I won't be more than ten minutes, I promise! Would you do that for me, buddy?" \n\nChoose \n<<<\n#[[If you would|Everything is Inverted]], \n#[[If you wouldn't|Junk Room]].\n<<<\n
'No problem,' says The Boss, and he waves his wand. After a brief flash and the inevitable 'ping!' a huge pile of used banknotes appears before you. Hardly able to contain your joy, you leap into the pile* and begin throwing the banknotes into the air, thinking all the time of the huge golden crown you are going to buy for yourself. It is at this moment that the elastic from which The Boss is suspended chooses to snap, causing him to plunge towards the floor below. Fortunately for The Boss, you are standing directly underneath him at the time, and you break his fall. Sadly you don't live to spend your new-found fortune, so The Boss gives the money to Donald, who spends it all on knitting needles. [[FIN]]. \n\n*Whilst still tied to the chair. Yes! This is possible, but kids, don't try it at home.
You walk over to the pool, and notice above the pool words carved into the wall of the cave:\n\nDON'T DRINK THE WATER!\n\n[[Drink the water|Almost as Good as a Jacuzzi!]]\n[[Try to find an exit|Behold! Enlightenment! Illumination!]]\n
READER: (Forcefully) Now listen here! I demand to know why you, the so-called ruler of the Crazy Place have imprisoned me and Donald here, and what's more I demand that you release us immediately! \n\nTHE BOSS: There will now be a fifteen minute interval. Drinks and light refreshments will be on sale in the foyer. \n\n[[END OF ACT 1|Light Refreshments]]
'Oh, thank you //very// much,' says the gnome, 'If ever you're stuck at the top of a mountain, about to be engulfed in a giant hairball and passing out through lack of oxygen, remind me not to rescue you then.'\n\n<<display 'CAUTION FLOOR WET'>>
You follow the trail of crumbs along a narrow passageway until you reach a large cavern. Here you find Donald who is being molested by a giant chicken. The chicken leaves hurriedly when it sees the military-looking monkey with the moustache, wearing a white suit and holding a large bag of breadcrumb coating, who has just entered the cave from the opposite direction. In all the confusion you are able to able to steal the bag of breadcrumbs, thinking it may come in handy later in your adventure. Together you and Donald [[leave the cavern|Reunion]] by an altogether different exit, leaving the bewildered monkey to his own devices.<<set $inventory.push("A large bag of breadcrumb coating")>>
You are whisked back to the Yogi's cloud kingdom where you find the Yogi still sitting on the peak of a cloud, surrounded by silver mist &c. &c. You bow and present him with the Golden Book of So-and-So, fabled receptacle of all known knowledge. \n\n'Great Yogi,' you say, 'we have journeyed really far and suffered many seriously weird adventures to bring you this, the Golden Book of So-and-So, fabled receptacle of all known knowledge...' \n\n'Thanks,' says the Yogi abruptly as he snatches the book out of your hands. 'This will look really good on my smoked glass coffee table.'<<set $inventory.splice($inventory.indexOf("The Golden Book of So-and-So"), 1)>>\n\n'My pleasure,' you reply 'and now, oh Yogi, we ask that you fulfil your promise to help us escape from the Crazy Place.' \n\nTo your dismay the Yogi begins to roar with laughter. Then, with a certain flourish, he pulls off his mask to reveal the grinning face of The Boss, legendary ruler of the Crazy Place!\n\n'Well I'll be dingswizzled,' you cry, 'you're not the Yogi! What have you done with him? We had a deal!'\n\nThe Boss merely laughs.\n\n‘There is no Yogi,’ he says ‘there never was. He was merely another of my many disguises. Even if I knew how, I wouldn't release you from the Crazy Place! Of course, if you really wanted to know how to escape, you should have looked in the book! Everything that is known is inscribed within its pages. But it's too late now!'\n\nYou are suddenly overcome by rage, partly at The Boss, and partly at yourself for not thinking of this earlier. After a brief struggle, you manage to regain possession of the book for just long enough to read the following words:\n\n'IF IT IS ESCAPE YOU SEEK, THE FIRST THING YOU MUST DO IS TO MILK THE COW OF HONOUR...'\n\nBut that is as far as you get before a jet of gas from a concealed nozzle in the Boss's hat renders you unconscious.\n\nAnd if you do not know... yada yada yada... bla... bla... bla... [[the next chapter|Tied to a Chair]]... \n
'Welcome to the Bargain Basement, where anything goes and everything MUST go' says the man in the pink suit. 'I am Mr. Tibbles. I must apologise for the jellied eel pit and the ten tonne weight. Just a couple of precautions I have to take against shoplifters. As a gesture of conciliation I would like to offer you one item from our shelves absolutely free.' \nThis is a lucky thing, since you don't have any money.\n\nWhich item will you choose? \n\n[[A box of exploding cigars]]\n[[An escape kit]]\n[[A pretty little doll]]
The stars are dead but you've upset the fans. Fight each in turn: \n\n|!NAME |!STRENGTH |!SKILL |\n|Joe|1|4|\n|Susy|4|2|\n|Peter|6|2|\n|Michael|2|3|\n|George|1|4|\n|Alex|8|3|\n|Mary|9|2|\n|Mavis|7|1|\n|Adam|7|1|\n|John|5|2|\n|Andy|1|4|\n|Graham|2|8|\n|Samantha|6|6|\n|Larry|4|7|\n|Bill|1|1|\n|Mick|0|2|\n\nChoose:\n<<<\n#[[If you win all the battles|You Have Won!]]\n#[[If you lose|Bad Choices]]\n<<<\n
You feel sorry for the eggs so you make friends. You try to kidnap the Boss's servant by dressing Donald as the Boss.\n\nDo you \n<<<\n1. [[Send him off to do his job|Donald has Burned All of the Costumes]] or \n2. [[Start again from page 1|Yet Another Padded Cell]]?\n<<<\n
You pocket your disembodied dentures, momentarily forgetting that your pockets are full of holes, and watch forlornly as they disappear through a chink in the floorboards. By now you are desperate to leave the room, but your trials are not over yet, for while you were busy with the glue, someone has bricked up the only door! \n\nYour only options are to \n<<<\nA. [[Use Donald's head as a battering ram|Mister Tibbles]], \nII:- [[Search for secret passages|The Light Switch]], or \n3) [[Commit hara-kiri|Burgered]] in the hope that your next incarnation will have better luck...\n<<<\n
The first person to pass by is Donald, who is terribly upset because, it seems, his hamburgers were squashed when the walls closed in. You feel rather sorry for him, and because you have been through a lot together, you let him have the socks at a sizeable discount.\n\n<<display 'Sleep Deprivation'>>
The voice on the line is high-pitched with an accent that is hard to place.\n\n'Hello, this is Jeremy,' it says 'Jeremy the master jokesman! Today's joke is: What is head, and looks like a bankie? What is head, and looks like a bankie?' Jeremy pauses momentarily before revealing the punchline. 'And the answer is: Treemash!' The line goes dead. \n\nChoose: \n\nThis might well be [[the funniest joke you have ever heard|The Sheer Stupidity]]. If not, you replace the handset and [[continue along the garden path|Up the Garden Path]].
Awkwardly you crouch beneath the Cow and begin milking away. It's hard work, and it give you a lot of time to think.\n\n'I just want to escape from the Crazy Place,' you wail, sobbing.\n\n'I don't understand,' says the Cow, 'isn't that precisely what you're doing?'\n\n'Yes, but...'\n\n'You want to escape from the Crazy Place. You //are// escaping from the Crazy Place. You've been doing it for ages. And yet for some reason you are unhappy. That is like coming to me and complaining, "I want to ride a bicycle", whilst at one and the same time riding around on a bicycle.' \n\nYou think about it for a moment.\n\n'I don't want to escape from the Crazy Place, I want //to have escaped// from the Crazy Place.'\n\n'Well, I'm sorry, but if you can't be precise about what you want, how can I be expected to help you?'\n\n'There must be something you can do?' you cry out in desperation.\n\n'Of course there is.' says the Cow. 'I can do many things. Here's one.' And she does [[another enormous cow pat|Coming up Trumps]], before floating off into the distance like a bad movie special effect from the Seventies.
'Good luck old friend,' you say to Donald, giving him a friendly chuck on the shoulder. You rummage through your small plastic bag of possessions for a suitable weapon for him to use, but the best you can come up with is a rolled up copy of 'Twinkle,' the comic for girls. With some trepidation Donald steps forward and attempts to swat the monster on the knee with the comic. Less than a second later it has bitten his head off. The poor clown didn't stand a chance. Overcome with grief and remorse you drown in your own tears, and the monster along with you. [[FIN]].
"Ga ga ba ba doo goo?" you enquire, as a latex hand whips off your nappy and replaces it with a pair of spotty green and white shorts that are clearly way too big for you, and size 30 floppy boots.\n\n"It's ok", says the rather androgynous figure standing over you, "Look, that's the door you came in through when you first arrived here. You can leave any time you want".\n\nAnnoyingly, what with you being a baby and all that, you have no idea what Nanny just said, and certainly can't read the sign on the door which clearly reads "Exit. We hope you enjoyed your stay".\n\nDo you\n\n[[Say "Gurgle goo bababagagaTATARARARA", and then blow a raspberry, gurgling with delight at your talents|The Last Tiny Morsels of Squirreldom]]\n\nOR\n\n[[Attempt to say "Now look here old chap, I am a baby, and I demand my emancipation right now!"|Insensible Cooings]]
Anyone stupid enough to choose this option would have to be very stupid indeed, and since I pride myself on the intelligence of my readership, it is natural for me to assume that there is nobody out there reading this at all. So I'll stop wasting my time and get on with writing [[the bit you are reading|Oysters]].
Escape from the Crazy Place
Donald has one. That was lucky, wasn't it? Perhaps that'll teach you to be better prepared in future.\n\n<<display 'An Array of Splendorous Beauty'>>
Ducking under the bird-man's newspaper wing you run for your life in what you hope is the direction you came in, but it is still too dark to see where you are going and you seem to have left the gaslighter back in the nest. You find what feels like a large rock and sit down to catch your breath, but the rock is alive! You stand up in alarm, and as you do, there is a rustle of paper... \n\nPECK! PECK! It's all over for this adventurer.\n\n''FIN.''\n\n\n
“That’s it!” you say, “I’ve had enough of you and your buffoonery. From hereon in I shall ply my way solo, alone and unopposed. Farewell!” With this your turn upon your heel and stride determinedly away, disappearing among the trees. Soon, the sound of your footsteps can be heard no more, and a silken silence falls upon the forest glade. Left to his own devices, Donald decides to\n\n[[Search for a way out of the forest|Toenails]]\n[[Look for buried treasure|Toenails]]\n[[Follow you into the forest|Toenails]]\n
What with those new taxis that have sharks inside them. \n\nGood Grief, it's no wonder everyone is terrified of getting into one. \n\nIf you would like to continue with your life, choose to [[vanish in a plouf of beige|Inside a Cereal Packet]] or maybe you would like to continue living out your life building [[houses out of meat|What Are You Doing Here?]].
Flexing your gills, you swim down to the sea-bed where you find a large treasure chest resting on the ocean floor.\n\n'As Monarch of the Fish-Men, I claim this treasure for my very own!' you cry, a flurry of bubbles carrying your words to the world above.\n\n[[Open the treasure chest]]\n[[Swim back up to the surface]]
You laugh out loud at the sheer stupidity of it, and suddenly everything goes dark, as if somebody had turned out all the lights. When the lights come on again, the trees have all been moved around, as though by an army of scene-shifters. Two clearly defined paths have been created, one leading [[south|The Fat Gnome's House]], and the other [[south-west|Footprints]].
"Atlas" replies the pigeon. "I'm not normally this ridiculous" it says. \n"In fact I've been here for a long long time. I just wish I knew the way out." \n"I'm in the same boat" you say. \n"Moo" says the pigeon. \n"What?" you say. \n"Moo" says the pigeon."What do you mean Moo?" you ask. \n"Moo" says the pigeon. \nGreat. Just great. There you were, thinking you had a soul mate, and all of \na sudden it thinks it's blooming Ermintrude. \n\nDo you [[see if the pigeon tastes like beef|A Parcel]], [[train it to say "Coo"|A Shiny Metal Egg Carton]], or [[bang your head against the wall|Prom Night]]?
'You are not the same as us,' says the Jellybean Boss, 'so there must be something wrong with you. But this can be corrected.'\n\n'Yes, yes!' you cry, 'Oh, please, let me be the same as you. I'm tired of being different!'\n\nYou step into the jellybeaneriser, a strange looking contraption that would look equally at home in a chocolate factory or in an abattoir. As the door closes behind you the machine starts up with a noise like a kazoo. Seconds later you find yourself standing a mere half-inch high, bright yellow and with a very strong compulsion to sing and play all day. Humming a happy little tune you skip out into the sunshine. You emerge, blinking, into a world of colourful Jellybeans just like you. Without a care in the world you run out into the happy throng, where you skip and play and sing mindless little songs happily ever after for the rest of your life, which is until the following Tuesday, when the entire Jellybean race is scoffed in one mouthful by a very large gnome in a Boogaas t-shirt.\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
No matter how fast you run, you make no progress. You feel as if your feet are covered in glue, and as you look down to see if this is so, you realise that you aren't wearing any trousers. It dawns on you that you are having a nightmare brought on by the stress of your recent adventures.\n\nWill you:\n<<<\n#[[Keep Running?|A Gesture Misinterpreted]]\n#[[Pinch yourself?|Some Or Other Page]]\n#[[See a psychiatrist?|The Autodefenestration of Mr Biglet]]\n<<<\n
Do you:\n\n[[Repeatedly crack Donald over the head with a nearby chair|A Cardboard Chair]]\n\n[[Callously crush the butterfly with your bare hands|Stigmata]]\n\nor\n\n[[V]]
So you want to open the treasure chest eh! Well, you can't 'cause you haven't got the key!\n\n[[Look for the key]]\n[[Forget the whole matter]]
The partygoers thank you, but just to be sure they leave, vowing never to return. You appear to be alone in the living room, but a brief examination reveals Donald lying underneath the sofa. You also find three nearly full cans of lager (one of which is still quite cold), a half-bottle of Thunderbird wine, a slice of pizza, three cheesy Wotsits and a magic sword which, when wielded, will allow you to win any battle without all that tedious dice-rolling business. You may these items to your inventory. \n\n"Well, Donald," you say, "a pretty good haul, I'd say. This sword is going to make our lives a lot easier, and if I'm not mistaken, these are the three magic Wotsits of Zandorr, which are used to open the portal of Zoltan - by using the portal we can take years off our journey!" \n\nTo your annoyance Donald eats one of the Wotsits. \n\nYou may now either: \n#[[Leave by a heavy wooden door to the north|Into the Woods]], \n#[[Head west along a narrow stone passageway|An Underground River]], \n#Or [[try out the sword on Donald|BRUNTOR THE BARBARIAN]].
'What happened to the band?' You ask. \n\n'Oh, they never turn up to their own gigs,' replies the fat gnome. 'The Boogaas are a protest band and that's the way they protest. But I've been to every one. I'm their biggest fan!' he gushes. \n\n'You're certainly big,' you reply. \n\n'You couldn't help me out, could you old chap - I can't seem to get down from the stage!' \n\n*[[Help him out|A Warm Cocoon]]\n*[[Ask him for his advice on how to escape from the Crazy Place|A Tricky One]]\n*[[Head for the exit|Thank You Very Much]]
"Dude," says Atlas, "You don't know what this means to me!" You proceed to stand on your head, while Atlas, after making quite sure that you are ready, climbs to his feet and takes the opportunity to pick up a few items that have fallen out of his pockets over the centuries. He leaves by the door to the north. \n\nYou may now either \n\n#[[Wait for him to come back|Three Hours Pass]], or \n#[[Get up and follow him out of the room|Stuff This]]. \n\n
The afterlife seems to consist of a never-ending award ceremony simlilar to the Oscars, but much more lavish. There are countless millions of catagories, ranging from 'best evil dictator' through to 'best doddery old lady.' To your surprise you seem to have won the award for 'best mediocrity.'\n\n[[Make a speech|Best Looney on the Bus]]\n[[Ask Donald to accept the award on your behalf|The Bowels of HELL!]]
You’re chilling by a fire, eating fondue. \n\n\n[[You have had fondue and like it.|The Next Page]]\n[[If you have not had fondue or do not like fondue|fondue]]\n
You arrive on Venus in a dense cloud field. As the mist clears you can see a version of Hamlet being rehearsed by the Venusian actors touring company!\n\n'To breathe or not to breathe?' You hear from the stage. 'That is the question.' You ponder on the question for about a millionth of a second and then realise that you can't breathe so instead -\n\n''You die.''
The only way out of the cavern is along a narrow ledge overlooking the gulley you came down earlier. After walking through several boring corridors, you find yourself in a north-south passage with an exit to the east. A sign pointing north reads:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">← TO THE EXIT</div></center></html>\nWill you go [[east|Yeti Boots]], or follow a trail of webbed footprints to the [[south|A Maze of Passages]]?
You run screaming into the forest, singing show tunes to calm your nerves.\n\nYou feel your feet pounding to the rhythm.\n \n"Howdy neighbor, happy harvest," you cry triumphantly, but before you get any further, you run smack into a tree. The world disintegrates into a whirlwind of luminous yellow balls, which themselves dissolve into dim nebulosities as you pass out.\n\nOr are you, in fact, finally [[waking up|Another Padded Cell]]?
You open the washing machine door and soapy water floods the whole laundry. Eventually the clown falls out of the machine and lies in a wet heap on the floor. You are shocked to see that Donald has become black and white in the wash!\n<<set $donald_drowning = false>>\n[[Restore his colour with a Squidgyburger|The Restorative Powers of the Common Squidgyburger]]\n[[Leave him the way he is|Donald is Banished]]
You drift to earth as gently as a dandelion seed, touching down in the middle of a field of corn. <<display 'Early Dawn'>>
Roll a die. If it comes up 1, 2, or 3 [[you survive the iron maiden|Sticking Plasters]]. If it comes up 5 or 6, you are not so lucky. [[The Celestial Escalator]] appears to convey your soul to eternal rest.
You all huddle together, Donald, the Jellybean people, The Boss, the Laundry, the flock of sheep.\n\n“The sum is greater than the parts!” you shout in unison. \n\nBut she comes at you, gorgeous and gorgeouser, larger than life and with so many flitting types of hairstyle and eye colour. \n\nLove flows hard through your veins and you take a sharp inbreath - but it’s just on a moment where your heart and lungs had been in role reversal and all things get confused. \nBe still my breathing heart! \n\nYou have time to utter her name to her before the end. \n\nShe bends forward over your body and with one hand in a ‘shhh!’ - she closes your eyes with the other.\n\n''R.I.P.''
You scamper up the tree in an effort to put as much distance between yourself and the maidens as possible. Your fellow squirrels have warned you repeatedly about climbing to these upper branches, and not without good reason. They simply won't take the weight of a full-grown human, even one who has grown up believing themselves to be a small tree-dwelling rodent. The bough breaks, and you find yourself tumbling groundward. Lying prostrate and dazed at the base of the tree, you spy the moon peeking between the branches. It looks remarkably like a slice of watermelon. Dark, evil spirits gnaw at your brain, and you [[scream|Scream]].
You take some glue and spread it thickly on the soles of your feet. It says on the tube to wait five minutes until the glue is tacky before applying the two surfaces together, so you do. \n\nYour shoes are now stuck firmly to the floor. This is not the best of situations to be in, but looking on the positive side, there are two things you can do: \n\n#[[Jump up and see if your shoes will come unstuck|Ten Million]], or \n#[[Take off your shoes and continue your adventure without them|Electrified Floor]]...\n
'I'm sorry Sir/Madam,' says the angel at the reception desk, 'but the waiting list for reincarnation is extremely long. The best we can offer you at present is to be born again as a [[snail|Living in a Cabbage Patch]], or as [[Bernard Manning]].'
You’ve never particularly enjoyed conflict with anyone, but you and Susie have fought before. As little boys you bickered over action-men and star-wars figures, running to tell on each other whenever possible. You fought with projectile Legos and catapults, ducking behind barracks of pillows and forts of sofa. Run rings around the adults - ribbons-on-sticks, lunging, parrying and stepping forwards with an appel from the rear foot, at the same time as the front foot lands. Oh! The patinados. \n\n‘Actually’ you ponder, still marching down on her, ‘...conflict with Susie can be quite fun.’\n\n* [[Send her a shot across the bows|The Flora Collide]]\n* [[Ignore her and join the melee|The Melee]]
You are led through the hallways on a leash by the man who looks like a mole. However on the way through you spy the Cow of Honour and break free.* \n\n'Hello. I am the Cow of Destiny,' says the cow. 'How can I help?' \n\n'The Cow of Destiny?' you say quizzically, 'you were the Cow of Honour only a few moments ago.' The cow frowns, in such a way that only a cow can, and says \n\n'If you don't want my help, I won't help. Hmmph!' Great. A cow with the hump. \n\n'Okay, okay I'm sorry. Please help me, I need to get out of this place. Please... Please tell me how!' \n\n'First you must milk the Cow of Destiny.' says the cow. \n\n'Hang on,' you say, 'we've been here before! Next you're going to stick out you tongue and introduce me to two ants who will show me a pile of whey in the corner.' \n\n'Wait!' says a tiny voice from behind you. You turn around to see [[a familiar figure with orange hair|The Ants' Advice]], though his hair is rather shorter than it was the last time you saw him, being now only about three feet in diameter. \n\n*Bathing your senses in a flashing cow, half shaven with naked limbs, you make your escape in garrets of paper in the sullen bush, a wilderness of monkeys.
You walk into the magic changing room and suddenly you are in a small Indian restaurant. All around you are severely decapitated people. Suddenly you remember that you haven't eaten during the whole of the story and decide to order.\n\nYou call over the waiter, who looks not dissimilar to a deathwatch Beatle. On checking out the menu you decide to order curried deathwatch Beatle. The waiter suddenly loses his smile and goes reluctantly into the kitchen. The man from the shop reappears with your order.\n\n[[Eat your order]]\n[[Go with the man from the shop]]
Not far along the path you come across another sign staked into the ground. It says:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">BEWARE OF THE TELEPHONIST</div></center></html>\nNo sooner have you read this, than a figure bounds out from behind a bush. It is a woman in a spotted dog costume, running on all fours as easily as though she had been born to it, a telephone receiver clenched between her teeth. She drops the receiver at your feet and waits, tongue lolling, for you to pick it up.\n\n[[Take the call|What is head, and looks like a bankie?]]\n[[Ignore her|At The Third Stroke]] and ignore her and proceed along the path.
You must be mad, but since you are already in the madhouse, you are simply locked by D. McRonald in the high security wing, and converted into a Bejam economy pack of beefburgers! \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
'What have you done with him!' You scream, beating the magician's brow with your fists 'You've sawn him in half, haven't you, you beastly man!' \n\n'Alas I tried,' says the magician, holding up the blunt and twisted saw, 'but he was just too strong for my saw. So instead I put him in my magic box and made him disappear!' \n\nWill you [[wait for the magician to bring him back|Piece De Resistance]], or [[follow Donald into the magic box|I Like Kittens]], closing the door behind you?
To your great surprise the passage ends at the top of a helter-skelter. A little girl rushes past you and slides down it on a mat, squealing with delight. Looks like fun. Pity you don't have a mat. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n<<<\n1. [[Slide down it without a mat|Friction Frenzy!]]\nB: [[Try to buy a mat from the next little kid that comes by|Forty-seven Thousand Pounds]] \niii) [[Use Donald as a mat|Hair-ball Horror!]]\n4:- [[Go back the way you came|A Ghastlorrible Smell]]\n<<<\n
As you step out of the lift a large illuminated sign bids you 'WELCOME - TO THE BARGAIN BASEMENT!' Another sign below it explains: 'The one stop shop where anything goes and everything MUST go!' Beneath the sign is a glass door behind which sundry consumer items are displayed in a pleasing fashion.\n\n'That's handy,' you say to Donald 'we might be able to pick up a few supplies for our adventure.' You can't help feeling a little ill at ease, however, as you approach the doors of the emporium. There is something about the place that doesn't feel quite right...\n\n[[Walk through the door]]\n[[Call the lift]]
You do a quick dash under the desk, but the Mouse-Boss spots you. "What do you think you're doing?" he asks, pulling you out by your tail. "Come out of there at once, there's a nice cosy cell waiting for you in the maximum-security wing!" \n\nIt is getting very difficult to breath in the mousehole by now, thanks to Donald's head which is blocking the only air hole. "What the cattery is that?" yells the Mouse-Boss, pointing a trembling paw at the clown's gigantic nose. Upon seeing you Donald attempts to push his whole body through the mousehole, causing the entire wall to collapse and bringing down bricks and plaster on you all. [[FIN]].
You look down at your hands, or should I say paws, as they are covered in white fur. You now appear to have a tail, and very large ears in proportion to your size, which is smaller than Donald's thumb.\n\n"Looks like the experiment had a few side effects after all" you say to the clown, but all that Donald hears is a brief "eek!" He holds out a small mirror to you which confirms that you have indeed turned into a white laboratory mouse. \n\nWill you [[sniff around the room for cheese|Cheese]], or [[scuttle down a nearby mousehole|A Familiar Looking Mouse]]?
Just to be certain you douse the chair with petrol and set it alight. The toxic fumes begin to make you sleepy. \n\n[[Go for a lie down on the bed|Magic Fingers]] \n[[Return to the elevator|Call the lift]]\n
It's okay, you tell yourself, crossing your legs into the lotus position, I'm fine with this. Everything is for the best in this best of all possible worlds, and that includes plummeting. Plummeting is good. Plummeting is effortless. Let's just go with this...\n\nIt <<display 'Balloon'>>
is nearly a week before you land, safely, in the basket of a passing hot air balloon. Donald is curled up in the bottom of the basket, snoring loudly. 'My my,' you say to yourself, 'That clown certainly gets around.' The balloon is drifting dangerously close to the wall, so you give a quick burst on the torch to lift the balloon out of danger. 'That was a close one!' you say, 'I'd better play it safe from now on!' \n\nWill you: \n<<<\na) [[Jump out of the balloon|The left hand side]], \nb) [[Try to get some sleep|Pin]], or \nc) [[Wait to see where the balloon takes you|A Short Knight]]...?\n<<<\n\n
Somewhat reluctantly you pass the book over to Aunty and Uncle. \n\n'Thank you,' says Uncle, snatching it from you, 'As well as teaching us the ancient wisdom of a lost civilisation and enabling us to become the most powerful beings in the Universe, this book will look rather smashing on our smoked glass coffee table.'<<set $inventory.splice($inventory.indexOf("The Golden Book of So-and-So"), 1)>>\n\n'And now,' says Aunty, 'as promised we will teleport you far away from the Crazy Place.' They give themselves a shake, pass magic wind, knees bend, arms out and piff paff poof... \n\nYou disappear.\n\nAnd if you do not know where Aunty and Uncle transported you to, listen while it is explained to you in the [[next chapter|Lying Hounds]]...
You feel the world descending beneath you, but pretty soon it rises back up and hits you on the soles of your feet. Your shoes are now more firmly stuck than ever. You have no choice but to remain standing here for always alongside those who have suffered a similar fate; all ten million of them.\n \n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
Stepping through the door you arrive in a room not dissimilar to the one you have just left, except that there is a small hummock in the middle of the floor. \n\n"What possible purpose could that serve?" you ask Donald, but before he can answer a small man, wizened as a walnut and dressed in rags, leaps out from behind it. \n\nIf you have met Rampateuay before, [[click here|An old acquaintance]]. \nOtherwise type [[click here|A prescient prophecy of dire and deadly doom]].
Acupuncture? Are you stupid or what? How on earth do you think acupuncture is going to save you?\n\nAnd you were thick enough to believe that this could turn you into a cartoon! Pffft.\n\nAs it turns out, your pathetically dumb, moronic and ridiculously stupid idea has, shockingly, saved your life. You have banged 9 nails into your head at this point, and the bookish individual in front of you, who is plummeting at an alarming rate, has lost his jacket. Said jacket has blown up towards you and got caught on the needles, acting as a makeshift parachute. There are three places you could land:\n\n[[A plain, green field|Minefield!]]\n\n[[A spot marked "This is most definitely NOT the Crazy Place, oh no, definitely not"|A Field of Corn]]\n\nor\n\n[[What can only be described as a steaming pile of freshly delivered horse manure|Cow Pat]].
It is dark inside the box and somewhat cramped. Will you [[fling open the lid and jump out|Donald Has Disappeared]], or [[wait to see what happens|Surprise Surprise]]?
You fling open the door to the north and run pell-mell down the adjoining corridor, not caring where it leads. <<if $donald_drowning>>As you proceed north the sound of Donald's enormous feet running towards you from the distance is unmistakable and you realise that his feet at least have managed to escape from the washing machine. <<endif>>Donald soon catches up with you and together you arrive at a junction. Choose: \n#[[To continue north|A sign]].\n#[[To proceed east|ROCKFALL]].\n#[[To proceed north by south-west|Mount Vertigo]].
'Pleash, pleash, let me shtay!' you say, wrapping your arms around the monkey waiter's knees. 'I'll be good, I promish!' Embarrassingly you are slurring your words. To compound the problem, Donald has gone behind the bar and is drinking neat Tequila straight from the bottle.\n\nUnimpressed, the monkey waiter rings a bell summoning the bouncer, a heavyset gorilla jauntily attired in nankeen trousers and long-toed continental boots. A boot-heel flashes in the air, and Donald is propelled like a human cannonball into the pool. The bouncer's arm descends with a terrific detonation, and you tumble forward with a crash to the rug, where you lie in [[a refreshing sleep|Tied to a Chair]]. [The bouncer is an expert in Kung-Foo]
You run through the door shouting 'Hehhma ma pkdeufreshie!' and find yourself on the Bowery. It is cold. With horror you realize that you are unclothed. No one else notices though. \n\nWhat will you do now? \n<<<\na) [[Rejoice at having been relieved of the burden of clothing|Nude With Raised Eyebrows]], \nz) [[Say the magic password|Gungplunkie]] (but only if you know it - mind!) \niii) [[Contine shouting wild, cult like chants|The Duke of Oslo in a pushbike CRUMBLE]], \n<<<\n(If you don't know the magic password you could (4) [[try forcing Donald to tell you|Kentilla!]].)\n\n
With trembling hands you struggle to pull the plug, catching a glimpse of your reflection in a puddle of seawater as you do. Your hair is now standing on end and smoking at the tips. Not a good look. You simply //must// find a salon to sort this out. You’re quite sure the ship sailed past a branch of Nicky Clarke a few weeks back, so you start off across the seabed, beckoning to Donald to follow, but Donald is lying flat on his back with his feet in the air, wisps of smoke curling from the toes of his shiny boots. He is dead. By saving yourself first you have doomed him. You drown in your own tears, restoring the oceans to their former levels in the process.\n\n''You are splatted.''
The Purple-Arsed Yogi reappears, purple-faced with rage. With a magic pass he turns you into a handsome set of matching luggage, and Donald into a cuddly toy. I guess he forgot what his original threat was. Not that this will be much of a consolation to you.\n\n ''* * * You are kaput. * * *''\n
It soon becomes clear to you that a subject as broad and complex as European History is going to require more than just a few words of explanation, so you begin to prepare a lecture complete with visual aids. Donald lends you a pack of crayons with which you draw a large map with each country a different colour. Word soon spreads and when the great day arrives you find yourself surrounded by quite a large audience, every one of them dressed as an ostrich with a cardboard beak held on by elastic, a black tutu and orange tights.\n\nStepping forward to the podium, you calm your nerves, clear your throat, and begin:\n\n<center>"Baa Baa black sheep have you any ham?\nYes sir, yes sir, three bags of ham.\nA sheep is just a woolly pig as everybody knows.\nA terrapin is very thin and hasn't any toes."</center>\n\nWait a minute, that's not what you meant to say! Anxiously you riffle through your notes, but they are gibberish. You turn to the map, and are amazed to find that instead of the outlines of Europe you have drawn a butcher's diagram of a sheep, every cut of meat a different colour, and every one of them labeled "ham".\n\nThe crowd begin to grow restless. Your eyes are drawn to the motto woven into the web above your head:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">SOMEONE'S GONNA GET THEIR HEAD PECKED IN TONIGHT!</div></center></html>\nWill you [[keep going|Little Bo Peep]], in the hope that some of the pertinent facts are still locked away somewhere in your memory, [[jump out of the web|Four Hours Later]], or pretend that that was what you meant to say all along, and [[conclude the lecture as quickly as possible|Playing Dumb]]?
You continue following the map, which leads you through several interesting scenes whose subtext reveals bourgeois normalcy to be the thinnest of veneers over a deliciously chewy caramel centre. As you progress through the forest the paper and cardboard trees become increasingly abstract and meaningless; a satirical comment on the banality of saturation advertising.\n\nThe path is clearly marked, and progress swift. but when you are just yards from the place circled on the map, an enormous monster comes lumbering through the trees. Armed with a heavy stone club, its intention is clear - your death!\n\n[[USE THE MAGICAL HAT]]\n[[USE THE ANIMATED CRAVAT]]
Donald declares that he would like to set off in search of the North Pole, and you can't help thinking it's a jolly good idea, despite the fact that you haven't got any provisions, not even your scarf or your mittens or your little red wellies! \n\nWhich way will you go? \n\n#[[North]]\n#[[South]] \n#[[East]] \n#[[West]]\n
Slowly you begin to descend from the roof, searching for footholds among the crooked stones. Sadly, however, you lose your footing whilst slipping on a banana skin and are too busy learning to play the violin to grab hold of the top of the wall. You plunge into the moat, humming a little tune to take your mind off the rapidly approaching crocodills. \n\n"Howdy neighbor, happy harvest," you hum, but once again you are in danger of not existing in your present form for very much longer, and no amount of show tunes can alter the fact that a host of golden crocodills are about to tear you limb from limb!\n\nChoose: \n<<<\n#<<if $inventory.indexOf("A violin") != -1>>[[If you have in your possession a violin|Stradivarius]]<<else>>[[If you have in your possession a violin|Cheat!]]<<endif>>\n#[[If you don't|My swivelly ankles are no good at parking]]\n<<<\n\n
As you leave the cavern, you find Donald sitting on the floor waiting for you. It seems he has decided to accompany you on your mission. It seems you don't have a lot of choice in the matter. Together you proceed along the passage until you arrive at a junction. \n\nA high wall is to the west. On the left of the passage is a mirror in the wall. To the east you can see a turning in the passage.\n\n[[Investigate the mirror|Double Trouble]]\n[[Sashay jauntily eastwards|A Rickety Looking Elevator]]\n[[Attempt in vain to climb the wall|Ladder]] (which is preposterously high and devoid of footholds)
'Those,' says Plugalug, indicating the eight corners of the treasure chest, 'are not the corners I mean.'\n\nWill you ask the clock exactly [[which corners he does mean|The Right Angle]], or forget all about it and [[ask him for the shortest route out of the Crazy Place|Thisaway or Thataway?]].
When you awake from your yogic trance, you find yourself on a higher plane. Donald, who has been banished from the garden for stealing apples, is sitting cross legged on the floor chanting mantras. \n\n[[Join him|The Buddha Open 24 Hours]], or [[take a look around|Another Level]].
With your good arm, you throw a roundhouse punch at the clown, but stop short of his shiny red nose. Are those tears running down Donald’s face? You half suspect that he's drawn them on in felt-tip, but even so you can't bring yourself to hit a remorseful clown. Together you decide to [[contine exploring the luxurious corridor|A Simply Gigantic Walk-In Closet]].
Fortunately there is just such a puddle at hand. You submerge your incandescent posterior in the freezing water for a moment until it is suitably soothed. At this moment Donald wanders past to find you inexplicably sitting in a puddle. Thinking you to be playing some sort of game, he snatches up a nearby bucket, fills it and pours it over your head. It is freezing.\n\n“D——n you, Donald, blood and 'ounds!” says you, cocking your hat to drain the water from the brim, “D——n you, you wantwit, you lackbrained oysterwench!”\n\n“A gentleman would forfeit all pretensions to that title,” says Donald in the universal language of mime, “who should choose to embellish his discourse with the oratory of Billingsgate, and converse in the style of an oyster-woman.”\n\n“I'll give you oysters!” you cry, leaping to your feet and flying at him, but the ground is wet and your next step finds you stretched along in the cow dung, your frock coat all smutted and besmirched.\n\n'Enough of this rigmarole!' cries the Cow. 'The time has come for you to [[milk the Cow of Justice|Milking Time]]!' \n<<if visited("The Cow of Honour")>>\s\n'Again?' you moan...\n<<endif>>\s\n
You land unharmed in a shrubbery on the far side of the wall. Donald can be seen at the other end of a lawn, playing with a claw hammer and some pieces of wood.\n\nThere is a small sign pegged into the ground here which reads\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">KEEP OFF THE GRASS</div></center></html>\n[[Walk across the lawn|Engulfed by Rampant Turf]] towards Donald\n[[Go along the path around the lawn|Telephone]]
'There is no earthly reason why I should have to listen to your prattling.' you say to the coconuts, but your arms have turned into palm fronds, and you are unable to put your fingers in your ears.\n\n"One last drink, please." says the left hand coconut.\n\n"I just wish I had time for one more bowl of chili." replies the right.\n\n"That was the best ice-cream soda I ever tasted."\n\n"Please, bring me a toothpick."\n\nThis is getting absurd. [[It's time to shake them loose|The Hippy Hippy Shake]].\n\n\n
The man from the shop gives you a slinky one piece Victorian style bathing costume and a pair of flippers.\n\n'Good luck, matey.' he says as you step into the magic changing room. 'Hope you find buried treasure or something.'\n\nWhen eventually you emerge it is from a striped beach tent close to the shore. The air is redolent with the smell of raw sewage. <<display 'The ocean floor'>>
Although at first it seemed that the forest was enormous, it soon becomes clear that the whole thing is an illusion done with mirrors, and it is actually no bigger than a box room. One of the mirrors turns out to be a secret door, leading into [[a long, boring corridor|DO NOT READ THIS SIGN]].
It takes more than a million of these large ants to carry the fat gnome. Never the most athletic of creatures, the gnome nevertheless struggles valiantly, but with minute adjustments and the careful manoeuvring of legions of insects, they manage to keep him under control as they carry him nearer and nearer their goal.\n\nDonald's little joke has cost you valuable seconds, and by the time you reach the gnome the ants have already arrived at the large hole in the earth that serves as the entrance to their miniaturisation chamber; however they seem to be having trouble getting his massive bulk to fit down there.\n\nYou take hold of the gnome's enormous pointed boots and pull, but instead of resisting the ants unceremoniously dump him, and sweeping around his listless body in columns of thousands, turn their attentions to you. Presumably they've concluded that, with your slimmer figure, they'd have a better chance of getting you into the miniaturisation chamber.\n\nYou turn to run but within seconds they're all over you, and moments later [[you are roughly deposited into the miniaturisation chamber|Slave of the Ant People]]...
You leap forward and shove the hat down hard over the monster’s head. It immediately drops its weapon and shambles off to its bedroom to write a love ballad about that girl it likes.\n\n<<display 'Victory'>>\n\n
While Donald staggers around the room with a vase on his head, you go down on your knees and beg Aunty and Uncle to be lenient with you. 'I'm sorry,' says Uncle above your pleading 'but you two are no fun at all.' He takes hold of a lever on the wall and pulls it. The floor beneath you swings open and you fall into a pit of boiling mud. ''FIN.''
Alright there? How are you finding it so far? By the way, do you take sugar in your coffee? Black or white? There you go mate, if you want any biscuits they're in the top left-hand cupboard. I've only got chocolate Hob-Nobs though, I'm afraid. Me? Yeah I'm fine. Anyway drink up, it's time to get [[back to the story|A Logical Bit]].
Boing! The hammer appears to be made of rubber and bounces back into your face, knocking out your two front teeth and breaking your nose. You now look like an old boxer who's had one too many fights. "What you smiling at?" asks Donald. \n\nWhat will you reply? \n<<<\n(1) "[[This is not a smile. There's nothing funny about any of this|Serious Looks Are Exchanged]]" \n(2) "[[Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush|Dark Thoughts]]"\n<<<\n
You enter a tiny cave filled with a ghastlorrible smell. In the middle of the cave is a gigantinormous cauldron filled with a thick, viscous liquid that bubbles away messily; the source of the aforementioned aroma. \n\nIf you are stupid enough to want to [[sample some of this liquid|A Magical Fondue]], there is a ladle close at hand designed just for this purpose. Otherwise you must [[exit the cave|A Sticky End]]. \n
On your second attempt the wall collapses, and together you stumble into a simply gigantic walk-in closet. <<display 'Closet'>>
"We've got to tread very carefully around here," you tell Donald, "The North Pole is a very dangerous place full of very fierce and dangerous creatures. There's the polar bear, the polar hare, the polar anteater, the arctic fox, the arctic goose, the arctic moose, the arctic mole, the arctic roll, the arctic camel, huskies (nasty, yappy things) and worst of all, the dreaded abominable polar penguin!" \n\n"What kind of creature is this?" asks Donald, handing you a dreaded abominable polar penguin. \n\n"My hot water bottle has gone cold!" cries the beast, waving the offending article in your face. This in itself is not particularly surprising, since, as you are standing on a small island in the middle of an ice flow. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n<<<\n#[[Take pity on the bird|Advice from a Penguin]], or \n#[[Ignore it and stick a flag into the snow|Pipped to the Pole]] to prove that you were the first to arrive.\n<<<\n
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You take a bite out of the cabbage and it bites you back. \n\n ''* * * You are well and truly dead! * * *''
‘Don’t you like the dolly?’ simpers Mr. Tibbles, ‘don’t worry, I’ll get rid of the nasty thing for you.’ He snatches the doll from you and begins enthusiastically to twist off its head. At one and the same moment you begin to feel a terrible constricting pain in the neck, as though someone were trying to twist off your own head.\n\n‘Stop him!’ you gasp, realising at last that the doll is some species of Voodoo fetish. Donald bounds into action, grabbing the doll by the leg and pulling hard.\n\n‘No, no!’ you scream, clutching at your own leg, which feels as though it were being subjected to a combination of an Indian deathlock and a spinning toe-hold. To your great relief, Donald lets go and after looking around for a suitable weapon, settles for clobbering Mr. Tibbles with a large bratwurst. The shopkeeper drops the doll and after a moment’s comedic staggering, collapses senseless into his own jellied-eel pit.\n\nThis doll is too dangerous to leave it lying around.\n\n[[Give the doll to Donald for safekeeping|Attacked by a Mad Acupuncturist!]]\n[[Send it to Oslo via Pigeon Post|Pigeon Post]]
The old lady is delighted. She pours you a cup of tea and makes some nice cake and biscuits. Increase your luck by 3 (if it does not exceed 6) and your strength by 9.\n\n4 hours later you thank her and leave. Turn to [[1072]]
"Oh, come on," sighs Clarence, "don't be like that. I'm in enough trouble with Norman as it is without slaves running out on me. It'll be tea-break in five minutes. I'll let you have the custard creams..."\n\n<<display 'The Motherlode'>>
For some unaccountable reason your feet are getting wet.\n\nYou can either: - \n\n1. [[Put your wellies on]]\n2. [[Eat your wellies]]\n3. [[Eat Donald|Out of options]]\n
Beating a hasty exit, you turn the next corner to find the passageway, broad as it is, completely blocked by a flock of sheep.\n\n<<display 'Lost Sheep'>>
“Never! You respond” you respond. Then attempt to run for the door but the tails of your shoes flex, one entwines itself around a bar-stool leg, the other curls under and you step on it, you’re gonna fall!\n\nAs the world tips up to meet your face you try your hardest to pass out before it does so. You fail and the floor meeting your head does the job of knocking you unconscious for the umpteenth time since you woke up in a padded cell with a clown. \n\nThis time however, in your unconscious state you are acutely aware of being unconscious. The blackness is calming, the silence is golden, the smell. Ew. [[What the hell is that smell|Unconsciousness]]?
You stand stock still in order to conserve energy. Donald joins in thinking that you are playing some sort of game, but soon grows tired of this inactivity and begins making sandcastles on the beach using a battered old trophy he found half buried in the sand. After a while you start to grow restless too. You wouldn't swear to it, but there is something rather familiar about this island. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n<<<\na) [[Keep keeping still|Rooted to the Spot]] \n2. [[Dive down a hole in the ground|Crumbs]], or \nc) [[Do 20 circuits of the island singing 'Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag'|'X' Marks The Spot!]]?\n<<<\n
What the hell IS that potato shaped thing, anyway?\n\nYou reach behind you to find out.\n\nNothing.\n\nSo you start to concentrate on whatever it was you were focusing on before, but the potato shaped thing has distracted you to such an extent that you've forgotten what in the name of Nelly that was.\n\nA quick glance at the wall reminds you, by way of a poorly worded, freshly painted poster (in red letters) that you "wos argewing wib Donnald".\n\nThe anger is building up inside you once more, but, wouldn't you know it, that potato sensation returns!\n\nSo you reach behind yourself once again, and it has the same effect once more, until you see the poorly worded poster once more, get angry, get distracted by the potato again, see the poster, get angry, feel the potato, reach behind you...\n\n...and that, my friend, is the rest of your life mapped out, condemned to eternity in an angry, potato distracting, painting watching mess. Forever.\n\n''FIN''
As you enter the arena there are flashing lights and loud music. A pop group are giving a concert. <<set $autograph = "Steve Cool">>\n\nWill you \n<<<\n#[[Attack the band with your folding chair|You Attack The Pop Stars]], or \n#[[Try to get the singer's autograph|Two Giant Monsters]]?\n<<<\n
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It’s early dawn; dew is upon the ears that sway gently in an early breeze. Birds tweet their morningsong and you inhale fresh, smiling as a warm happiness spreads throughout your entire body... Invigorating. You have never felt so happy....\n\n'[[Congratulations, You’ve Escaped the Crazy Place!|False Dawn]]' \n
You search your pockets for money, finding several hundred pounds in assorted currency, collected during your extensive travels around the Crazy Place. Selecting what you think is a reasonable price for the burger, you proffer it to the clown.\n\nUnfortunately by this time he has already eaten the hamburger.\n\n* [[Knock down the wall using Donald's head as a battering ram|Headbutt]]\n* [[Sit in the corner and sulk|Fluffy Bunnies]]\n\n
Past life regression is the perfect way to get to the root of your problem ————— says the witch doctor ————— theoretically, I mean ————— I'm no expert ————— \n\nWill you [[submit to the procedure|Back, Back!]], or [[choose one of the other treatments|Spoilt for Choice]]?
Nanny leans over the pram, cooing insensible cooings. There is something very familiar about that ruddy rubber bulb of a nose, that mass of tangerine tangles and that faint, yet unmistakable whiff of hamburgers, but your infant mind can't quite make the connection. To sooth you Nanny tells you a bedtime story:\n\n"Over my shoulder they came, the last tiny morsels of squirreldom. 'Have at thee, ye perilous watermelon, ye hasnae the cheek to wrest the moonlight from its rightful exterior'. Seven more stranded young maidens may butter these crumpets, but never forget the dark, evil spirits who gnaw at your brain like..."\n\nIt's fair to say Donald isn't the ideal bedtime story narrator. The tale is so terrifying that you start to [[scream|Abandoned]] again...
This burst of song makes Donald fall about in hysterics. In fact, he's laughing so much that he's shrinking! Yes! You decide to carry on as long as possible until he is the size of a small spider and unable to shrink any further. For just a moment you think dark thoughts. \n\nAre you going to \n<<<\n#[[Stamp on Donald|The omniscient narrator becomes omnipotent]], or \n#[[Try to pull his legs off|This Is Where Our Life Begins]]?\n<<<\n
When the curtains open you are dismayed to find that the scenery has changed once again. You are now in a stone-walled cell with a single sturdy wooden door. There is a small hatch in the door through which you can see a guard sitting at a table in the room beyond. \n\n"Gosh darn it all to heck!" You cry, (Donald warns you that this is a family show and you apologise to the viewers at home for your language) "That dirty double-crossing horrible nasty rotter! He's tricked us - changed the script when we weren't looking without regard to continuity!"\n\n<<display 'The High Security Wing'>>
Donald wants to know if you've changed your mind about the hamburger.\n\n[[Buy the hamburger|Donald McRonald]]\n[[Leave the laundry|Memory Loss]]
(The READER opens the bag and recoils.) \n\nREADER: Pooh! That stinks! (The READER empties the contents of the bag; THE BOSS' dirty laundry, onto THE BOSS' desk and [[exits through the side door|CAUTION FLOOR WET]], passing JANICE on her way in. JANICE is clutching a large tub of ice cream.) \n\nTHE BOSS: (to JANICE) Catch a habit and you'll rabbit! Czech! (Exits.) \n\nJANICE: (Plaintively, to herself) Sometimes I feel like I'm just a bit-player in the great drama of life! \n\n(Curtain.)
You reappear ten feet above the biggest bowl of jelly* you have seen in your life. 'Those lying hounds!' you cry as you fall into the translucent orange wobbly stuff, 'they told me they were going to send me away from all this! I've been had!'\n\n'Well, you might as well make the most of the situation,' says the kindly little old lady who shares the bowl with you and Donald, 'this jelly is jolly good stuff, you know!'\n<<<\n#[[Help the old lady to eat the jelly|Factory Mix Up]], \n#[[Tell her to eat you instead|Dead, By Gum!]], or\n#[[Get out of the bowl as quickly as possible?|Tunnel Of Doom]]\n<<<\n*That's Jell-o to anyone reading this in the good ol' US of A.
You bound into the cave where you see a huge throne-like chair. Seated in the chair is a man dressed all in red, in fact even his face is red, with a pointed beard. It's not quite as bushy as you imagined. Busying themselves around the throne are hundreds of little elves, or are they imps? You could never tell the difference.\n\n"Hello mortal," says the man. "I am Old Nick."\n\n"Surely you mean Saint Nick?" you reply. The man merely stares at you bemusedly.\n<<<\nC) [[Sit on his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas|SCALEXTRIC]]\nD) [[Get the Hell out of there|IMPS, NOT ELVES]]\n<<<\n
'Donald, you nincum-fubby-diddle-boodle!' You cry, 'You mountebank, you malefactor, you fickle-minded miscreant, you've ruined everything! I could have been happy here!' And with a heavy hand you smite DONALD in the back, sending him whirling into the pool.\n\nThe monkey waiter leaps over the bar and laying a leathery paw upon your shoulder, directs your attention to a prominent sign at the poolside:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">NO RUNNING<br>NO PUSHING IN<br>NO OTHER DANGEROUS HORSEPLAY\n<br>By order of THE BOSS.</div></center></html>\nYou knock back the last of your banana daiquiri, which softens your brain to sillybub, and suddenly you can find nothing to object to in the idea of knocking the stuffing out of this simian bar steward. You square your shoulders and send a flurry of fists in his direction, but your aim is perfectly punk. Not a blow registers.\n\nThe monkey waiter summons over some of his monkey mates, a dozen and one in number. Though differing widely in the cut of their monkey jackets, they are otherwise indistinguishable from one another. Twenty-four sleeves are rolled...\n\nSince your current state of addlepated inebriation has deprived you of the power of speech, there are but two options available to you:\n\n[[FIGHT|Monkey Havoc]] or\n[[FLIGHT|Scream]]\n
You are in a padded cell. It doesn't seem to have a door. A large clown with orange hair is trying to sell you a hamburger.\n\n[[Buy the hamburger|Gone]]\n[[Knock down the wall using the clown's head as a battering ram|Headbutt]]\n[[Batter it down with the hamburger|Battered Hamburger]]
On your way out of the station you are surprised to find Donald sitting on the floor of the tunnel, a Squidgyburger in one hand and a can of cheap lager in the other. He is wearing a sheepskin jacket, sheepskin gloves, a sheepskin hat and sheepskin boots.\n\n'Donald!' you say. 'What happened to all your... never mind.'\n\n<<display 'Two Doors'>>\n\n
Heading back the way you came, you soon find Donald, sitting waiting for you. For reasons best left unexplored he's wearing an enormous pair of knee-length yeti boots. Together you make your way down the grey corridor until [[you reach the end|DO NOT READ THIS SIGN]].
'I'm beginning to think I must be indestructible,' you say after Donald has spent half an hour peeling you off the floor. You are now roughly the same shape as a pancake, so he rolls you up and puts you in a cardboard tube to stop you blowing away. \n\nSuddenly you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. From inside the tube it is very difficult to see what is going on in the room, but you can just make out a figure in a pink suit. He is wearing purple lipstick and has a very effeminate walk. All of a sudden he hurtles up behind Donald and thrusts a pickaxe into his head. Donald falls to the floor, apparently dead! Then, a moment later he is up and on his feet again, shouting 'It's murder in here, isn't it?'* He and his fake assassin burst into gales of laughter.\n\n[[Ask this strange character his name]] \n[[Build a replica of the Taj Mahal entirely from your own toenail clippings]]\n[[Start the book again from page one|Start]]\n\n*In the universal language of mime.
You are just about to call Susie a rude name, when who should arrive but Donald, smiling as he looks down at Susie. "Hi!" he says, his voice distorted by a mouthful of Hulaburger. \n\n"Donald!" Susie gasps, "about our date..." \n\n"That's just what I wanted to talk to you about. Now that you're a rich heiress and part-time fashion model, and you're so busy going to Hollywood cocktail parties and meeting interesting people, you won't want to bother with a crazy clown like me." Hearing this, Susie splutters into her champagne and flings her arms around Donald.\n\n"Oh, Donald, you really are just too deliriously out of this world," she says, "the most important thing I want is to go out with you!" You look down to see that you have shredded your entire wardrobe in exasperation. How does the two-bit two-timer do it? \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n#[[Challenge Susie to a fight|A Challenge]],\n#[[Go to the Prom without a date|Embarrassment]]\n#[[Join the French Foreign Legion|The French Foreign Legion]]
Now that wasn't very clever, was it? The balloon falls to earth and you are captured by the knight, who tortures you with a feather for a couple of hours before locking you in a high tower where you will spend the rest of your lives embroidering handkerchiefs with, for some reason, the chemical symbol for tellurium. \n\n * * * [[You are splatted!|FIN]] * * *
"I see you changed your name back to what it was before," you say, by way of conversation. \n\n"Don't be ridiculous," the Cow replies, "how can I have changed my name to what it was before I changed it? That would be the same as not changing it at all."\n\nYou let out a sigh. You had forgotten just how pedantic the Cow can be, and make a mental note to be more exacting with your language. \n\n"I suppose you want me to show you the whey again." the Cow says. \n\n"Actually no, I'm looking for a coupon from a cornflakes packet, you see. My friend Donald destroyed the Universe and we're going to send away for a new one." \n\n"I think your friend Donald has found it." the cow says, and with that she floats away to pastures new. You turn around to see Donald, tearing the precious box-top into tiny little pieces. \n\n"That's it!" you scream, no longer able to contain you anger, "That's the last straw!"\n\n<<display '1970s Sitcom'>>
'Are you unemployed?' asks the assistant, 'then fill in this form please - oh, and one other thing, new government regulations state that to be registered unemployed you also have to have 3 legs.'\n\nDO YOU; [[HIRE A FORKLIFT TO PICK UP THE FORM AND TRY TO GROW ANOTHER LEG?|UB40]] OR [[PUNCH THE ASSISTANT AND SELL HIS SOCKS TO A PASSERBY?|A Sizeable Discount]]
There's not no now't in this room, so you go through into another room where you find a wizard. He is pouring a blood sample into a tiger's face. \n\nWill you \n<<\n#[[Kill the wizard|Kill the Cyblobs]],\n#[[Kill the tiger|Gobbled Whole]], or \n#Kill yourself. (Only joking!)\n<<\n\n\n
You are in a padded cell. It doesn't seem to have a door. A large clown with orange hair is trying to sell you a hamburger.\n*[[Buy the hamburger|Donald McRonald]]\n*[[Knock down the wall using the clown's head as a battering ram|A Laundry]]\n*[[Batter it down with the hamburger]]
Reluctantly you remove the cravat, and life returns to normal. You are somewhat aggrieved, but when, years later, you look back at the photographs from this period, your reaction is 'what the hell was I thinking?'\n\n<<display 'Several Interesting Scenes'>>
"Good thinking Donald!" You say as you struggle in vain to release yourself from the soap powder costume "maybe our luck is in today!" \n\nUnfortunately it doesn't last. As you turn the next corner you are accosted by a group of executives wearing placards bearing the slogan "Down with VUD!" \n\n"We represent Ordinary Products Incorporated" says the leader of the mob, pinning you to the wall with a furled umbrella "and we're sick and tired of our products being compared unfavorably against the leading brand in television commercials!" \n\n"It's thanks to people like you," says another man, whose identity badge identifies him as the Head of Marketing "That sales of Ordinary (TM) Washing Powder and Ordinary (TM) Shampoo have fallen by as much as seventy-five percent in the last five years!" \n\n"It's unfair competition!" yells the head of overseas sales shaking her fist "We have children to feed as well, you know!" \n\n"I don't have any children," says a junior sales administrator angrily, "but I do have two goldfish and a budgerigar with expensive tastes!" \n\nYou try to explain that you are only using the costume as a disguise to help you escape from the high-security wing of the Crazy Place, but the soft-soap doesn't wash with the Chairman of the Board, and he challenges you to a duel. In the spirit of the occasion he too has donned a soap-powder box costume, except that his is plain white and has "ORDINARY POWDER" stencilled on the front in large black letters. \n\n"Let's find out once and for all which is the best powder!" he says, with an evil grin. "choose your weapon!" The head of marketing steps forward and proffers two seemingly identical umbrellas for you to chose from. \n\nWill you take \n<<<\n#[[The one in his left hand|Goodnight, sweet suds!]], or \n#[[The one in his right hand|Thank you, and goodnight]]?\n<<<\n
'Help!' cries the fat gnome again. Using the cable-cutters you cut a path through the encroaching follicles to reach the stranded figure. 'Hello again old chap,' he says when you have set him free 'we really must stop meeting like this... people will talk!' <<display 'Opera Glasses'>>
Remembering that mudskippers can survive for short periods of time on dry land, you take an extra big gulp of water and head towards the shore, where [[a trail of hamburger crumbs|Donald Is Molested By A Giant Chicken]] leads the way. It would seem that after serving only 431 years of his sentence, Donald has escaped from the mountain of hamburgers by eating his way out from under it.\n\n
'Thank you,' says Uncle, 'As well as teaching us the ancient wisdom of a lost civilisation and enabling us to become the most powerful beings in the Universe, this book will look rather smashing on our smoked glass coffee table.' \n\n'Yes,' agrees Aunty, 'It will certainly be a talking point.' \n\n'And now,' says Uncle, 'We will use our magic powers to send you both on your way.' As a reward for your co-operation they give you a map of the Crazy Place and let you finish off the custard creams. Then, with a magic pass, they spirit you away to another part of the Crazy Place.<<set $inventory.splice($inventory.indexOf("The Golden Book of So-and-So"), 1)>> \n\nAnd if you do not know where Aunty and Uncle transported you to, listen while it is explained to you in the [[next chapter|Inside a Cereal Packet]]...
The balloon passes over a beautiful ornamental garden. Far below you, a knight in gleaming armour is crossing the lawn on horseback. The distance between you makes him look very small indeed; in fact he looks no taller than about four foot six. \n\n"Hey, shorty!" you call out, safe in the knowledge that he can't touch you, but suddenly he hurls his lance at the balloon with deadly accuracy. If it hits, the balloon will burst!\n\nWhat would you like to do? \n<<<\na) [[Jump out of the balloon|The left hand side]], \nb) [[Eat an extra strong mint and blow into the balloon so that the hot air will make it go higher|No Mint]]?\n<<<\n
Unhappily you can't get the nail-file out of your pocket because your hands are tied behind your back. \n\nYou could [[try to reach it with your teeth|Painful Memories]]. Your only other option is to [[give up|Doomed!]].
<<set $inventory.splice($inventory.indexOf("A map of the Crazy Place"), 1)>>Uttering a perfect scream of fear and indignation, like the clamor of a thousand angry parrots, you tear the map into as many pieces as can be managed. Then, looking down at your handiwork, and finding that in your rage you have destroyed the only means of your salvation, you break down into a perfect melody of bubbling sobs, like the lowing of a thousand mournful mooses. Your heavy tears obliterate whatever remains of the markings on the paper.\n\nA shadow has fallen over you. You look up to see an extremely fat gnome standing over you, complete with pointed hat, pointed ears, pointed beard and pointed boots.\n\n'Something up, old chap?' he says pointedly, regarding the soggy rags of paper on the floor.\n\n'In my rage I have destroyed the only means of my salvation.'\n\n'So you have, old chap. You know, you should really deal with these anger issues of yours. They eat away at you inside.' he hands you a small white card. 'This is my shrink, Mr. Biglet. You should give him a call. He really helped me with my chocolate cravings.' \n\nYou can [[pay Mr. Biglet a call|The Autodefenestration of Mr Biglet]], or, if you've already had the benefit of Mr. Biglet's services, you may ask the Fat Gnome if he as [[any other advice|A Tough One]] for you.
You head North. <<display 'The North Pole'>>
One thing leads to another, and before you know it you have been happily married to the Marmite for twenty-five wonderful years. One day, as you are dusting, you accidentally knock the Marmite down the back of the fridge. Since your arms are not long enough to reach it, you are forced to leave it there. Donald, who all this time has been sitting in the corner, patiently waiting for you to come to your senses, suggests that it might be time to move on.\n\nWill you take \n\n#[[the north-west passage|An Ominous Grating Noise]], \n#[[the south-east passage|The Elevator]], or will you \n#[[attempt to scale the wall?|Ladder]]
Unfortunately as you make your way over to the door you slip on a patch of water and knock yourself unconscious. When you wake up you find yourself in a familiar environment, but you seem to have lost your memory.\n\n[[Another Padded Cell]]
After just thirteen and a half circuits you collapse, exhausted on the beach. It is at just this moment that you notice the large 'X' drawn in the sand. 'Look, Donald! 'X' marks the spot! There's buried treasure down there, I'll be bound!' Donald, who has stripped down to his underwear in order to work on his tan, elects to sit and watch while you dig a hole using the Championship Sinking trophy as a shovel. Strangely, the hole soon begins to get bigger of its own accord. The shifting sands drag you and Donald [[into the hole|A Deep Booming Voiceover]] as the beach collapses in on itself...
You tell a joke: 'Why did the chicken not cross the road? Because somebody had sawn its legs off.' The audience hate it, and you are splatted to death by a giant credit card!\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
Soon you've covered pretty much the whole carpet, in fact there's just one more bit to do; the bit underneath the Boss's feet as he sits upon his high-backed office chair.\n\nNormally, of course, he wouldn't do this, but since it's your first day, the Boss raises his feet to allow you to vacuum underneath. And normally, of course, you wouldn't hesitate to finish the job, but there's a problem.\n\nIt seems that the electrical cable, which connects the upright vacuum cleaner to the mains supply, has, during your passage around the room, become entangled three times around the standard lamp, once about the hat-stand and seven times around the base of an ornamental birdcage that stands beside the door. \n\nIf you finish the job you run the risk of toppling all three and causing untold damage. But if you hesitate much longer the Boss's knees will begin to ache. Either way you could lose your job...\n\nWill you take the risk and [[vacuum under the Boss's feet|Trope Averted]], or [[rush out and buy a cordless cleaner|Dearth of a Salesman]] from the Bargain Basement?
Fiberglass isn't attracted to magnets, and since this is a logical bit, you crash through the glass roof of the armoury head first. The floor of the armoury us made of rubber and because there is a sharp spike on the top of your helmet there is a noise like someone hammering a nail into the skin of a drum and you disappear into the room below. The room in question is in complete darkness. \n\nBy the way, did I mention that as you hit the roof you gave yourself a severe headache which cost you two of those much sought after strength points? Well, you didn't. You are wearing a helmet after all, even if it is only made out of fiberglass with chrome trimmings. See, I'm still paying attention. I don't just make these things up as I go along, you know. It's a very meticulous process involving years of careful planning. Sometimes I wonder if you appreciate all the effort I'm putting into this thing. \n\nAfter a while, someone switches on the light. For a second, you are dazzled, and then shocked to see that you are upside down. The spike on the top of your helmet is stuck into the padded floor of a cell in the Maximum Security Wing deep within the catacombs of the Crazy Place. There is something rather familiar about this particular cell, and it is while you are trying to work out when you've seen it before that an equally familiar pair of feet shuffle into view. \n\nBandaged feet. \n\nIn a panic you struggle to free your spiked head from the floor, but it is quite useless, and it is only when you stop struggling that you notice the mummy's bandages are slowly unwinding to the floor. As the mummy bends to face you, he pulls off the last few coils, and a familar face looms into view... \n\n"Hey buddy," says Atlas. "Now do me a fricking favour, and hold up the fricking world for me while I go to the bathroom!" \n\nHe stomps off through the door to the north. \n\nYou may now either [[wait for him to come back|Three Hours Pass]], or try to extract your head from the floor and [[follow him out of the room|The Earth Falls]].
"Simmer down, chaps", says a rather gangly, bookish individual, in a voice not dissimilar to Hartley The Hare from 1970s children's TV show "Pipkins". He pushes his way to the front of the mob, keeping the ostrich people at bay with placating gestures.\n\n"Now, we can't have people running down these corridors. It's against the rules. And anyway, you must be sweltering in that clown outfit."\n\n"Yes", says Donald, "he must be sweating buckets"*, completely misunderstanding the situation once more. \n\nRapidly, the scathing, baying crowd draws nearer. You hear the faint 'shush' of tutu against tutu as they crowd together.\n\n"Good heavens!" says the bespectacled stranger, "I think it's time we left the Crazy Place. Follow me. We'll go to the rear exit".\n\nWithout waiting for the gangly man to lead the way, Donald turns and heads down an overgrown path to the west. The gangly man lopes off in the same direction. You eye Donald suspiciously - has he always KNOWN about this rear exit, or is he as much in the dark as you are?\n\nYou follow your would be saviour as he opens the door that, sure enough, reads "Rear Exit". Underneath in small letters are the words "Thank you for visiting the Crazy Place! We hope you enjoyed your stay."\n\nStunned, [[you walk straight out|The PLUMMETING]].\n\n *In the universal language of mime.\n\n
Rummaging around in your plastic carrier bag, you find your telephone and plug it into a nearby telephone socket. It's a rotary dialler, not one of those cool remakes but a real one made out of bakelite. \n\nDialling the number you hear crackling on the line.\nIt's clearly being overcooked as you can smell it singeing.\n\nDo you decide to [[hang up|Crackling]] or [[listen to the pre-recorded message being played at you?|Pre-recorded Message]]
You peer into the chute, noticing that it is rather a long way down. Suddenly, the sound of thunderous footsteps can be heard from behind you. It is Donald. Too late, he ploughs into the back of you and together you tumble into the darkness.\n\nThe chute goes down for about a mile. At the bottom you land in the middle of a laundry in a pile of pillowcases. Donald wanders off to investigate.\n\nA lot of clothes are hanging from a washing line here.\n\n[[Take the clothes|Three People Wearing Towels]]\n[[Take a closer look at the washing machines|Trapped in a washing machine!]]
You have been standing there admiring your reflection for quite some considerable time, when your reflection says 'are you going to get out of my way or do I have to punch you in the nose?' You are somewhat taken aback as you realise that this mirror is not a mirror at all, but a doorway, and your reflection simply a lookalike standing on the other side.\n\nYou can \n\na) [[Get out of your double's way|Double Trouble Doubled]], or if you would prefer, you may \nb) [[Wait to receive a punch in the nose|Fight!]].
'Gurgle goo bababagagaTATARARARA' you say. Annoyingly you are still too infantile to express yourself clearly.\n\n<<display 'The Last Tiny Morsels of Squirreldom'>>
On a tangled tide of orange curls you are carried further and further from the mournful voice until it can be heard no more. Meanwhile you have been struggling to free yourself, and not with much success. No sooner have you freed your legs from the enraveling ringlets, than you find your arms enveloped by them. Eventually the cable-cutters themselves become tangled in the mass of hair, leaving you defenceless. You are engulfed by the shaggy mass that surrounds you, helpless to prevent Donald's hair from taking over the world. ''Fin.''
As the weeks pass, it gradually dawns on you - you are not only outclassed but outnumbered. Of your original crew of two dozen, only yourself and Donald remain. Seven seamen, one Portuguese, one English, and five Americans chose to remain on a tiny, barren rock rather than continue to sail on your vessel. The rest have simply disappeared, their roles on board ship now filled by a school of great grazing fish, triggers, parrots and surgeons.\n\nYour own role has somehow been reduced to that of cabin boy, the octopus having now unquestionably established himself as captain. Donald remains as first mate, however, having struck up a friendly rapport with the animal.\n\nIf you can stand it no more, you may [[jump overboard|Wet Feet]]. Otherwise you can choose either to [[mutiny|Mutiny on the Milky Way]], or [[stick it out|Life on the Ocean Wave]], with the idea of jumping ship the next time it lands.
Unfortunately, your teeth are also in the left inside pocket of your raincoat, where you always put them for safekeeping between meals. Painful memories of your last pair of dentures come flooding back* - the incident at the swimming pool which ended with you fumbling around for them at the bottom of the deep end; the fateful day when you were elbowed in the mouth by a clumsy gibbon at the zoo and swallowed them whole... \n\n'Teeth,' you sigh. 'Always causing trouble when you've got them and never there when you need them.' \n\nWill you \n<<<\na) [[Use your spare pair|A Problem]], or \nb) [[Give up!|Doomed!]] \n<<<\n*Not necessarily your own memories, but painful nevertheless.
Finding a larged crocheted owl in your plastic bag of rubbish, you hurl it into the paper pulp. The synthetic fibres used to stuff the toy absorb the excess moisture in the pulp, solidifying it and enabling you to wriggle free.<<set $inventory.splice($inventory.indexOf("A cuddly toy"), 1)>>\n\nBrushing away the sticky paper residue from your clothes, you survey your surroundings. You seem to have wandered into a narrow gully that goes on for some distance. You decide to see [[what lies at the far end|A Darkened Cave Filled With Paper]].
You land unharmed in a shrubbery on the far side of the wall. Donald can be seen at the other end of a lawn, playing with a claw hammer and some pieces of wood. How he managed this is beyond you, as he was still in the balloon when you jumped.\n\nThere is a small sign pegged into the ground here which reads\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">KEEP OFF THE GRASS</div></center></html>\n[[Walk across the lawn|Engulfed by Rampant Turf]] towards Donald\n[[Go along the path around the lawn|Telephone]]
Serious looks are exchanged. A fresh bale of hay breezes through the room. A throng of people dressed in black follow through and stand around in a circle sullenly.\n\n'What the hell's going on?' you ask Donald.\n\n'They're mourning the loss of your sense of humour' he replies, in a snivelly, lip trembling kind of way. The priest then arrives, holding a donkey. \n\nDo you \n<<<\n#[[Interrupt the proceedings|A Shrill Ringing]] shouting 'My sense of humour is alive and well' \n#[[Jump on the donkey|Abandon All Hope!]] and attempt a quick getaway, or \n#[[Resign yourself to everlasting misery|The Big Secret]]?\n<<<\n\n\n
Still determined to conserve energy, you continue to stand perfectly still, wriggling your toes into the soft sand for greater purchase. The sun beats down on your long, frond-like hair, and sustains you. Moisture from the sand below is somehow drawn into your ever extending toes, and nourishes you. With time and effort, you are eventually able to grow a lovely pair of coconuts, and not just ordinary coconuts, oh no, these ones are able to TALK. This might be a refreshing diversion from the trauma of this wretched place, were it not for the fact that the only words they ever say are "There is no place I so much desire to see as Jerusalem", "Bugger Bognor" and "Et tu, Brute?"\n\nThey're the last word in coconuts.\n\nWill you [[try to shake them loose|The Hippy Hippy Shake]], or [[try to ignore them|Ignorance is Bliss]]?
The dancers begin to pirouette towards you menacingly. Suddenly, before you can react, one of them knocks you to the floor with a pas-de-deux. \n\nAs you clamber to your feet you use the time to consider your next move: \n<<<\n#[[An entrechat|Entrechat]]\n#[[An arabasque|Arabesque]] \n#[[A demi-tasse|Demi-tasse]]\n<<<
Unfortunately with your very next step you tumble off the edge of a precipice into a canyon so deep that you die of old age long before you hit the ground. ''FIN.''
Alice Road is a short suburban street in Aldershot, England. \n\nIt is solely inhabited by accountants and if anyone knew of a loophole, or a way to get out of something, it'd be an accountant! \n\nThe message was right, bricks ARE red and bacon. \n\nYou spend as many of your remaining days as you can chewing the bricks and building houses out of bacon.\n\nPoems ARE hard, aren't they?\n\n[[FIN|THE END]]\n
You are whipped away at a dizzying rate, but in what direction you cannot tell. Nothing you can do will slow your rate of progress. You are about as effective against whatever force of attraction propels you, as a mite of dust sucked up in the tube of a brand new vacuum cleaner. After fourteen hours, three minutes and five frames, The dizzying motion stops with a jolt that rattles your teeth like crushed ice in a cocktail shaker. \n\nYou dust yourself off, and look around to find yourself in a place that almost defies physical description. In fact it looks a lot like the smell of geraniums. \n\n'Where am I?' you ask a passing cow.\n\n'In fact what has happened, says the cow, carrying on as though she were narrating the story, is that you have travelled in the fourth spatial dimension, by which I mean scale.\n\n'You are standing in the nucleus of a carbon atom in the middle of a slightly sucked and rather hairy gobstopper in the pocket of the fat gnome's jacket, which is lying on the floor of the laundry.\n\n'I am the Cow of Honour, and you may milk me if you wish. I wish you would.'\n\n[[Choose (1)|The Cow Of Destiny]] if you have met the Cow of Honour before. \n[[Choose (2)|First Things First]] if you wish to milk the Cow of Honour. \n[[Choose (3)|Lost and Found and Lost]] to look for the lost cornflake coupon.\n
You don't have an extra strong mint. The lance is now half a millimetre from the fabric of the balloon. It is travelling at 50 metres per second which means that you have 0.00001 seconds in which to: \n<<<\na) [[Ask Donald if he has a mint|37 Pockets]], or \nb) [[Jump out of the balloon|Torn to Pieces]].\n<<<\n
'Excuse me,' you say to the clown, 'but may I borrow your head? I'd like to use it as a battering ram.'\n\nDonald shakes it several times. Angrily you leap onto the clown's back and attempt to remove his head by force. It won't come off. After staggering around like this for several minutes, Donald eventually manages to throw you off. You crash heavily against one of the walls, and all four of them [[collapse|A Large Box]]...
You feel around under the jukebox once more. What luck! You find another snake immediately. Removing your right shoe you slip on the snake and walk around the room once or twice to make sure you’ve picked the right size. The right one is a little tight but it’ll soon break in. What a stunning pair of heels. The curly toes are over two feet long. \n\nSuddenly the door of the bar bursts open and the Royal Guard march into the room.\n\n‘By Royal decree,’ shout the Royal Guard, in unison, ‘the shoes of kings and princes may have toes 2.5 feet in length, those of nobles 2 feet, and those of knights, 18 inches. You, sir, who are no more than a peasant, have violated that decree - the penalty is death!’ \n\nWill you [[take off the snakes|What the Hell is that Smell]], or [[keep them on|Blackness]]?\n
"Non"6 say a bunch of poorly attired flamenco dancers, who are arrogantly blocking off the entrance to the lift.\n\nDo you:\n\n[[Kick them where it hurts|Ow Ow Ow 5]]\n\nor\n\n[[Attempt to join in|Dumped]]?
You pick up one of the many pairs of scissors from Austria that have been laid at your feet as a kind of offering. Now you don't have any hair and tonight is the night of the big party! \n\n"I can't possibly go looking like this!" You cry. "All the cool people will be there!" \n\nFortunately there is [[a wig shop|A Wig Merchant]] just around the corner with half price sale on.
You return the way you came but come across a dead end. You pay your respects and run back to where you started. The walls of this corridor are covered in signs of various sizes all of which read:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">NO RUNNING\nIN THE CORRIDOR<br>By order of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\n\nChoose: \n\n\t1) [[To walk|A Long Walk]] \n\t2) [[To run|CAUTION FLOOR WET]]
To celebrate your victory there is a stag dance, music by a mandolin orchestra, vocal selections and clog dancing.\n\nAfterwards, you pick up your things and [[continue following the map|LUMINOUS YELLOW, CIRCULAR EYES]]. It's not far now!
Three months into the voyage, you turn over a fresh sheet of your My Little Pony notepaper, select a pink crayon and begin to write your "Captain's Log":\n\n"The octopus regarded me guardedly whilst maintaining a discreet distance," you write, "the creature was hauled aboard a week last Wednesday as part of that morning's catch, but has since proved an excellent helmsman. Honestly, I don't know where we would be without him.'\n\n‘All broadcast frequencies still blocked, captain,’ says first mate McRonald, for some reason addressing himself to the octopus. You wander thoughtfully around the poop deck, not pacing, just wandering – can’t let the fish think you're stressed out; that would give them an unfair advantage. Only last week, Midshipman Witherspoon was swallowed by a conga eel whilst eating his lunch – strange, that eel was supposed to have been //his// lunch. Still, worse things happen at sea...\n\nYou continue to wander, never daring to take your eyes off the octopus and its eight, treacherous limbs...\n\n"Fish" you write – "the sea’s awash with them, despite the best efforts of our fishermen. I’m beginning to think we’ll never catch them all. I hate to admit it, but frankly, we’re [[outclassed|Outnumbered]]. You can’t outstare something that doesn’t blink."
Unfortunately ants don't have noses, so instead you lunge at Norman with your pickaxe. <<display 'No Picnic'>>
“I’d like your eternal soul,” you say, then by way of an afterthought “and a Scalextric.”\n\n<<display 'BLACKMAIL'>>\n
'Alright Donald, you win. We'll bring the sheep with us.' Donald celebrates his victory with a series of goatish leaps and pirouettes. The sheep match him step for step. Slowly you, Donald and the flock make your way along the passage which winds gradually downwards. The heat is unbearable and the bleating of the sheep deafening as it echoes against the walls. Further along, the passage narrows, becoming [[a tiled tunnelway|An Underground Railway]], and caught amongst the mass of woolly bodies you soon find yourself nudged and jossled to the back.<<set $inventory.push("A flock of sheep")>>
The moment Donald stops tearing the boat apart, it falls apart. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * * ''
You stick a dagger into the back of the wizard's head. After a few minutes he turns around and puts ten pence in your mouth. A screen appears on your t-shirt and the wizard begins to play 'Kill the Cyblobs' using your nose as the 'fire' button and moving left and right by twiddling your ears. After the game there is a message on the screen. It says: 'You win 100 Pounds!' You will have to pay him out of your kitty. \n\nYou haven't got 100 Pounds since your pockets are still full of holes and any money you have collected on your travels has been lost.\n\nYou can try to escape from the wizard's clutches by making a run for [[the door on the left|A broom cupboard]], or [[the door on the right|A Conveyor Belt]], or alternatively you could just [[GET A JOB|You Are Overqualified]]! \n\n//You poke the wizard in the back of the head with a rolled-up comic book.//
You have chosen the slightly dangerous door! <<display 'A Conveyor Belt'>>
Which door will you choose? \n<<<\n#[[The door on the left of the door on the right|The Slightly Dangerous Door]]\n#[[The door on the left of the door in the middle|The Highly Dangerous Door]]\n#[[The door right of the door on the right of the door on the left|The Least Dangerous Door]]?\n<<<\n\n
You reappear in what appears to be a lounge room decorated in the style of the early 1970s. Two strangely androgynous figures in romper suits are standing before you, indistinguishable in all respects, except that the taller one has a moustache. \n\n'Welcome, Poker-Faced Arhat' says one. 'I am Uncle and this is Aunty. We were expecting another... Donald?' A moment later Donald materialises, standing on top of a smoked glass coffee table. \n\nIf you do not know how things went on after this, you must [[listen to what is told in the next chapter|An Impregnable Underground Apartment]]...
'Gosh, that's a tricky one, old chap,' says the gnome, stroking his chin. 'How about this: If at first you don't succeed, lower your standards!'\n\nFrom the look on your face it must be pretty clear that you're less than overwhelmed. The gnome shrugs. 'That's the best advice I can give. It's pretty shallow, but it helps.'\n\nHe looks down at his feet, in as far as he can see them, and seems to remember something. 'You couldn't help me out, could you old chap - I can't seem to get down from the stage!' \n\n*[[Help him out|A Warm Cocoon]]\n*[[Head for the exit|Thank You Very Much]]
Unlucky for some! Unlucky for YOU ! The only way you can get to Donald is to become black and white yourself, and this means getting into the machine. You drown in the soapy mass of water which engulfs you.\n<<set $donald_drowning = false>>\n ''*** You are now DEAD! ***''
‘Donald, I’ve decided to tickle my fancy, but I haven’t got one. Where’s that box of Fondant Fancies you bought at that adventurer’s shop we visited?’\n\nDonald produces the box from one of his many pockets. It’s a bit squashed but they’re still edible. He proffers it toward you. Will you tickle [[the pink one|The Pink One]], or the [[yellow one|The Yellow One]]?\n
Reunited with your companion, you decide to explore the maze of passages which unfold before you. \n\nWhich way will you go? \n\n#[[Straight ahead|A large wooden door]] \n#[[Down a tiny side passage to your left|A sign]]\n#[[Back the way you came|A Broad Concourse]]\n\n(If the previous page made absolutely no sense to you at all, [[choose 4|Recap]].)\n
After three highly successful seasons as a wrestling promoter, you are finally able to pay for the damage to the smoked-glass coffee-table and [[leave the furnishing department.|HEADS]]
Alright there? How are you finding it so far? By the way, do you take sugar in your coffee? Black or white? There you go mate, if you want any biscuits they're in the top left-hand cupboard. I've only got chocolate Hob-Nobs though, I'm afraid. Me? Yeah I'm fine. Anyway drink up, it's time to get [[back to the story|Gosh Darn it All to Heck]].\n
You step through the door and the holograms of knives, axes and the portcullis vanish. You trip over the tripwire.\n\nThe room is dark. \n\n'Is there anybody here?' you shout.\n\n'NOnonononono.' comes the reply.\n\n'I guess we're alone, Donald. Alone in the dark.'\n\n#[[You have a match|An Array of Splendorous Beauty]]\n#[[You do not|Matchless]]
With a Squidgyburger from one of Donald's pockets, you soon have the clown up on his feet again and chirpier than ever. You ask him what he thinks you should do next. He points out that the two of you have left puddles of water all over the new carpet. Tsk.\n\n[[Look for a way out of the tank]]\n[[Search the tank for carpet cleaners]]
Fortunately your spare dentures are just within reach. Normally you wouldn't use this pair except on special occasions. It is a special clockwork set with seven gears, including three reverse gears. You manage to insert them into your mouth without too much difficulty, but there is a problem. The key you need to wind them up is in the left inside pocket of your raincoat.\n\nThere doesn't seem to be much hope of extracting the key to wind up your dentures to get the nail-file to cut through the ropes that bind you to the chair... so instead you sit and try to work out some other plan. Suddenly a thought occurs to you. Maybe if you could stand up, still tied to the chair, and shuffle over to the filing cabinet in the corner of the room, there might be another nail file inside filed under 'N' for nail! \n\nChoose: \n<<<\n#[[If this seems logical to you|Bolted!]]\n#[[If you think it's a silly idea|You're Not Real!]]\n<<<\n\n\n
You clear your throat and attempt to talk the fish into letting you go by the sheer force of your persuasuive rhetoric.\n\n'Flounders, Rockfish, Countrymen!' you begin.\n\n'Arr! Nothing like a spot of anadiplosis,' says the captain, 'and you may lay to that!'\n\n'Lend me your otoliths!" you continue, feeling glad that you did that course in piscine anatomy before leaving shore.\n\n'Metonymy, by thunder!' cries the Boson, 'Split and sink me for a handspike else!'\n\nI've got them! I've got them! you think to yourself. But the rest of your speech does not go quite as well as expected:\n\n<center>'I ran in the garden\nChasing a bee\nA purple rhinoceros\nFell from the tree\n\nHe ran to the hall,\nAnd swallowed a ball,\nWhich I had left \nBy the lemonade stall.\n\nHe went in the kitchen\nAnd studied my map.\nA bag of bananas\nThen sprung from the tap.\n\nIt frightened him so\nHe ran to the road\nAnd in the melee\nHe cuddled a toad\n\nHe fell on his knee, \nThen looked back at me,\nSo I pushed him back\nTo the top of the tree.'</center>\n\nFollowing your speech there is a stunned silence. And then the captain shouts "Fry the lubber!' All hands fly to the wheel that lowers the net, but before they can manage it the ship gives a lurch that tips the deep fat fryer on its side turning half the crew into scampi. [[The ship has run aground|Aground!]]!\n
With a cry of ?*@!?* UP runs off leaving you and Donald wondering what to do next. Should you find the Cow of Honour and try to get some sense out of her, or <<if $norman>>buy a job lot of ant powder?<<else>>find the man who looks like a mole and try to get your shoes back? They were $200 Oxfords.<<endif>> While you are wondering, a hole opens up in the floor and you fall down into a room full of luminous blue custard. You stand around in the custard for a few minutes, wondering whether everyone has days like this, when up pops the Blue Custard Groover. "Hey dude," he says "how's it hangin' man?" \n<<set $norman = false>>\nYou wonder \n\n#Whether to [[talk to this creature|Communication Breakdown]], or \n#Whether to [[hang back and let Donald do the talking|All Outa Beat]] for once.
Though you haven't the faintest idea where any of them go, you stand in the room for a good half hour glueing in your teeth. Donald laughs to see such fun, so you hit him, whereupon he hits you back and all your teeth fall out again. \n\nWill you pick up the glue once more and [[start again|No More Glue]], or put your teeth in your pocket and [[leave the room|Someone Has Bricked Up The Door]] before anything else happens?
The only way out of the cave seems to be to jump into the cauldron, which you do. You instantly begin to dissolve in the disgusting broth. Your flesh melts, your bones go all gooey and eventually you disintegrate completely, liquefying and becoming as one with the contents of the cauldron. [[FIN]].
Clarence flicks his whip half-heartedly across your shoulders.\n\n"Where do you think you're going?" he trills, "Those sugar cubes won't get mined by themselves you know!"\n\nYou feel a little sorry for Clarence, and [[half-heartedly chip at the wall with your pickaxe|Keep Your Back Straight]].
The world spins, and you suddenly find yourself standing next to a normal sized cow. Instead of the stars beneath your feet, there is a field of fresh grass. You realise with annoyance that you are standing in a cow pat. Donald sits nearby, sporting a rather fetching milk moustache.\n\n'Good afternoon,' says the cow, turning slowly to face you, 'I am the Cow of Heaven.'\n\n'The Cow of What?' you ask. Instantly a small man who looks like a mole, and who possibly is a mole, runs in dressed in livery, and reads aloud from a scroll:\n\n"She walks on eggshells without breaking them, this sky-goddess, this Sacred Chao, with her piebald coat...\n\nAnd she strides across the heavens with custard in her boots and her life is a NUCLEAR EXPLOSION.\n\nAnd she speaks with words of great stupidity and people come from miles around to hear, dragging their feet...\n\nFor she is the miraculous 'Cow of Heaven' and the 'GALACTAGOGUE', and none who hear her gospel will ever be the wiser."\n\nThe small man who looks like a mole furls the scroll and runs off into the distance.\n\n'The time has come!' cries the Cow. 'The time has come for you to [[milk the Cow of Heaven|Milking Time]]!' \n<<if visited("Milking Time", "The Cow of Honour")>>\s\n'Again?' you moan. If you are sick to the back teat of milking the Cow of Whatever-She-Is-This-Time, you may [[refuse to do so|Sacred Chao]].\n<<endif>>\s\n
You have turned to a non-existent page, and as a result, you no longer exist either. Donald goes on without you, and twenty minutes later, escapes from the Crazy Place. You were so close! But sadly, you don't win a cigar or a coconut.\n\n''Instead, you are splatted.''
Bored of the pocket you are presently in, you decide to investigate the other one. You crawl over to it and climb inside, however there seems to be no bottom to it. You fall faster and faster until suddenly 'THUD.' You now appear to be sitting on a cow. It turns its head and says 'Hello, I'm the Cow of Honour. How can I help?' \n\n'I'm not sure,' you reply, rubbing your bottom which is still smarting from the 'THUD.' 'You're the last thing I expected to find in the fat gnome's pocket.' \n\n'You'd be surprised what else there is in here,' replies the cow. 'The entire rest of the Crazy Place, for one thing, and that includes the laundry, the fat gnome's jacket and this pocket.' Your head begins to spin as the cow starts reciting William Blake's 'Augeries of Innocence.' \n\n'Okay, okay I see what you mean,' you say hurriedly. 'But all I really want to know is how do I get out of this place?' \n\n'You must milk the Cow of Honour before I give any advice.' replies the magnificent bovine. Realising you have never milked a cow, you jump off and attempt it anyway. \n\n'Why am I doing this?' you ask suddenly aware of how absurd you must look crouched underneath the cow. \n\n'Because I enjoy it,' replies the cow. Fair enough, you think. After you have finished, she pokes her tongue out, upon which are two ants. '[[Tanke thense nants|Paolo Pillow and String-Bean Smith]],' she says, unable to speak properly with her tongue out 'nand thney nwill shnow ynou the ouway.'
“I’d like a Scalextric,” you say, then by way of an afterthought “and your eternal soul.”\n\n<<display 'BLACKMAIL'>>
As the net is lowered jerkily toward the deep fat fryer, the fish, conducted by a pair of comical hermit crabs, sing a shanty:\n\n<center>Up here all the fish is happy\nAs off on our ship we fare\nThe fish in the sea ain't happy\nThere's too much pollution there\nBut the human beings ain't lucky\nThey in for a worser fate\nCos the fish is getting hungry\nGuess who's gon' be on the plate</center>\nYou can feel the heat rising from the boiling chip fat, but there's not much you can do from within the shrimping net. Will you [[call on your talent for bird impressions|Bird Strike]], or [[attempt to talk your way out|Oratory]]?
The 'phone rings. Plugalug answers. 'Really?' he says, 'That's amazing!' He replaces the handset. 'It was for you,' he says, and falls silent. You may [[ask Plugalug what the caller said|Panhandlers!]], or [[take a look behind Plugalug|The Circumnavigation of Plugalug]].\n
The Ball is, as expected, completely spherical. The walls curve up away from you - a cluster of dining tables, a bar, music, ionic pillars and marble floors all somehow pinned to the insides of the giant room, which must be at least a hundred meters across, glittering and rich to match the guests - perfectly dressed Lords and Ladies sit around the tables staring up at the dancefloor directly above them. \n\nTo your right, curving away is a huge orchestra comprising the *best* musicians - the absolute top of their game. You even recognise some of them, they’re *that* famous. \n\nThey’re all playing excellently, unfortunately they’re playing a tune of their choice and the cacophony of their instruments is wildly amplified by the acoustic reflection of a marble-floored spherical ballroom. It is near-impossible to hear anyone or anything over the terrible, terrible racket they’re making. \n\nWill you try to ignore the racket and [[watch the dancers|Wheeled Feet]]?\nOr [[join in with the dance|Venus de Milo]] as best you can?
You take a long run up, before charging at the barrier with all your might. You brace yourself for the moment of impact, but it never comes. The invisible wall, it seems, was Donald's idea of a joke. Instead you stumble, attempting to slow down. It is only when you are milliseconds from hitting the deck that you remember all the gelignite you've eaten.\n\nIt might be some consolation to know that the resulting, orange-flavoured explosion burns off both of Donald's eyebrows. They never grow back, and he is obliged to paint new ones on every morning for the rest of his days. He often thinks of you as he does so.\n\n''THE END''
Knicker-filling terror\nAn ape, from whose fertile mind ideas sprang like mushrooms\nPalpitating with pimple-popping postulations\nPlugalug: An orotund horologium\n\nAn extra-dimensional cosmic entity known as Ozwas the Omnipotent endowed me with poodle-like powers and abilities. I now roam the Universe, helping those in need whenever my super-sensitive poodle ears pick up a distress call. Hence, when ***, I rushed to his aid.\n\nsilly Canutes, may their hair get infested by the fleas of a thousand camels!\n\nIf one should leave a cheese sandwich in an airtight lunch box out in the sun, the moisture from the bread, margarine and cheese will begin to evaporate. As the evaporating moisture tries to flee its plastic tomb it finds it can't and the moisture settles on the sides and lid of the lunch box. This trapped cheese sandwich moisture is called condensation.\n\nThe same effect occurs in the helmet of an irate astronaut.\n\nGetting red in the face, such that he can be seen 500 miles away\n\nclings like the exquisite emerald pel- \nage of some somnolent behemoth.\n\nHe fell face down \non the steep slope of the foot-way, but under him \nwas the dolphin and both arms were locked about \nit in a grip of death. We cheered him from the \nupper deck as he regained his feet and staggered \ngrimly to the bulwarks with his prey.\n\nFor in \nthese abyssmal regions there are fish which can \noutdragon or outmipt any mere figment of the im- \nagination; crustaceans are there to which the gar- \ngoyles of Notre Dame, the fiends of Dante's Pur- \ngatory appear usual and normal. \n\nan apparently head- \nless, multispined orange amphipod — a miniature \nimpersonation of some dread prehistoric monster; \ncountless scarlet Nematocarcinus whose fantas- \ntically long legs were so shadow-thin,\n\na group of comical hermit crabs — absurdly grotesque \nclowns who had cunningly hidden their weak, mis- \nshapen bodies under the deceptive, flowerlike, \ndeath-dealing tenacles of rosy sea anemones\n\n\nIs there anyone here? I shouted. NOnonononono.\n\n\n'Is there anyone here?' you shout.\n\n'NOnonononono.' comes the reply.\n\n'I guess we're alone, Donald.'\n\n\ndeceptively flowerlike, death-dealing tenacles\n\nSpice up a dull passage with:\n\nWell might it be said:\n\n//and a bit of verse in italics.//\n\nJust imagine we are all nits on top of a giant's head! What kind of fundamental changes would this have on our lives??!! \n\n\nJe mets mon margarine sur roues et laissé sur le rebord de la fenêtre, puis plus tard, il était plein d'anguilles, je les ai vendus au facteur. Il a dit «Je voulais vraiment souris» donc je concocté un bol de riz, puis il se leva et me frappé à deux reprises, et a dit qu'il était trop crémeuse. Le Butler nous interrompit, il a dit «oh dear, nous avons raté le bus!» Le visage du laitier était plein de pus, nous avons essayé de l'ignorer. Mais il a insisté: «Je vais payer pour vos vacances jamaïcain», puis il partit pour St Tropez sur son trampoline enchantée. Puis, hier, mon bon ami Raymonde est resté coincé dans sa micro-ondes, il a causé des brûlures désagréables sur ses orteils, puis le laitier retourné dans son train de crème Anglaise, il a laissé un pot de margarine puis continua son chemin.\n\nThe Cosmic Curtain\n\nYou find yourself in a mystic realm where none of the usual rules apply.\n\n"At last!" you say, "We've done it! At last we shall find out what lies beyond the Cosmic Curtain - Utopia, or the land of the Hell Monster!"\n\nWhen you've both had a cigarette and are ready to go again, you realise that you've dropped all the stuff you've collected during your adventures.\n\n"Here, let me carry it," says Donald in the universal language of mime. "I'll put it in this Tesco carrier bag." His exaggerated gestures ooze tenderness and concern.\n\n\nBecause of some funky circumstances\nYou can't ***, because reasons.\n\n\n\n
Having missed the last Tube, you now have no option but to take the night bus. It takes forever, and just as you are approaching Stratford the driver stops the bus, and for no good reason, throws everybody out at some random spot on the Mile End Road. Typical. You shuffle off in the direction of the Bow flyover, remembering that there is an all-night McRonalds on the corner. You are starving.\n\nAs you approach McRonalds you are surprised to see Donald sitting on the wall outside, a Squidgyburger in one hand and a can of cheap lager in the other. He is wearing a sheepskin jacket, sheepskin gloves, a sheepskin hat and sheepskin boots.\n\n'Donald,' you say, 'what happened to all your... never mind.'\n\n[[You enter McRonalds|Chapter XVIV]].\n
You leave the tree stumps where they are. Why should you always do what people tell you? No-one vomits all over you. Eventually the people grow bored and walk away. The last one to leave quickly unlocks the glass box before she goes.\n\nThere is a lake in the museum grounds where you look at your reflection. With your webbed hind feet and hoofed forelegs, you are unique and beautiful. Your delicate snout, with its long, flexible tongue is superbly adapted for grasping foliage. You are quite incapable of speech.\n\nYou build a nest among the reeds. Sometimes Donald visits and feeds you handfuls of nuts and berries from the palm of his hand. You are timid at first, but you grow used to him.\n\nYou have not escaped from the Crazy Place.\nWhy would you want to do that?\n\nTHE END\n\nBut there are many other endings to this story ... [[start again|Start]].\n\n
You jump swiftly to the left, landing in a thicket, and the boulder thunders past missing you by a whisker. Crashing and bounding down the mountainside, it turns several trees into rustic garden features and a hapless goat into a fetching rug as it goes. You hear Rampateuay muttering to himself from the ledge above, though you can’t see him from this vantage point.\n\n‘I knew it! I knew that was going to happen. I know all!’\n\nFrom here a path descends the mountainside. You decide to [[put as much distance between yourself and the old man as possible|Straight Lines]].
'We can't wear these!' say the three people wearing towels - 'we'd die of embarrassment!' So instead they take YOUR clothes leaving you with no option but to choose from these three options: \n\na) [[Wear the pink clothes]]\nb) [[Rejoice at having been relieved of the burden of clothing|Nude With Raised Eyebrows]]\nc) [[Wear a towel]]\n\n
The jelly is indeed good stuff, and since you are extremely hungry you help yourself to rather a lot of it. It is only as you are leaving the bowl that you notice the article in the newspaper Donald is reading: 'JELLIES WITHDRAWN DUE TO FACTORY MIX-UP.' apparently 1000 packets of orange jelly were made using gelignite instead of gelatine.<<set $gelignite = true>>\n\nWill you: \n<<<\n#[[Climb very carefully out of the bowl and seek medical attention|Don't Forget to Write!]],\n#[[Climb very carefully out of the bowl and hope for the best|Tunnel Of Doom]], or \n#[[Jump out of the bowl and try your hand at fire eating|BOOM]]?\n<<<\n
The Boss runs off into the distance, cackling like a loon. Do you thirst for revenge? In which case you can [[follow him|An Army of Eggs]]. Alternatively you can try to [[get as far away from him as possible|Marmite]].
The Furnishing department is somewhat smaller than you expected, consisting of only a comfortable looking armchair, a four-poster bed and a smoked glass coffee table.\n\n[[Try the armchair]]\n[[Test the bed|Magic Fingers]]
The fish are great in number, but they're an undisciplined mob. From the safety of the helm, the octopus produces a horrible tin pop-gun and begins firing at everybody. Donald hits him with the music stool. The soprano is thrown over the railing, and somebody turns off the gas.\n\nIn the ensuing darkness every one skirmishes for themselves. Donald takes off his boots and hunts for the bosun in his stocking feet. The octopus, recovering his senses, crawls to the bulwark and fires off a cannon. The shell ricochets off the carapaces of a trio of turtles before making a neat hole in Donald's hair.\n\nThe Quarter Master, an inebriated lobster, scuttles up the mizzenmast with a drawn cutlass in one claw and a cocked pistol in the other, but loses his footing and falls into the deep fat fryer.\n\nThe ship's chicken makes a valiant attempt to regain the poop deck, but is hacked to McNuggets by a swordfish.\n\nThe situation is desperate. Will you [[jump overboard|Wet Feet]], [[surrender|Brig]], or fight to the death?
I would like to thank the following people, without whose contributions, suggestions and enthusiasm Escape from the Crazy Place would not have been possible:\n\nFirst and foremost, Loz Etheridge, who has been collaborating with me on Escape from the Crazy Place since its inception in 1984. Roughly one third of the text is his.\n\nWriters / Illustrators:\n<<<\nLoz Etheridge\nMark Bailey \nDan Guest \nSophie Guest \nDavid Mounfield \nThom Dalby \nGrant Turner \n<<<\nWriters:\n<<<\nKaren M. Sandler \nMichael Lloyd \nSimon Harrison \nPeter Massey \nJulie Caddick \nMelanie Oswin \nVaughan Black \nNick Wragg \nThe Unknown Contributer \n<<<\nIllustrators: \n<<<\nSimon Birch \nDavid Hughes \nMark Bailey \nGraham Rushin \nFaisal Sarwar \nDave Griffiths \n<<<\nTechnical Support (2006 edition): \n<<<\nMark J. Musante \nJon Ingold \nRandall M Gee \n<<<\nEncouragement: \n<<<\nDarius Mahbouby \nAlex Machin \nJeffrey Glanvill \nRichard Superfine \nJeffrey Bolet \nJoe Infeld \n<<<\nDiscouragement: \n<<<\nRonald McKinnon\nMike Harris\n<<<\nAnd thanks to you, gentle adventurer, for playing my game. I do hope you do enjoy it. \n\n[[Back|previous()]]
The secret door, cunningly disguised as an ordinary door, opens onto a long corridor. The walls of this corridor are covered in signs of various sizes all of which read:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">NO RUNNING\nIN THE CORRIDOR<br>By order of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\n\nChoose: \n\n\t1) [[To walk|A Long Walk]] \n\t2) [[To run|CAUTION FLOOR WET]]\n
You find the undulating motion rather nauseating and decide to go for a good lie down. However, you soon realise that you are lying down, so you try to stand up, and immediately fall over due to a spell of dizziness brought on by the nausea. As you fall you knock you head on the bedpost and lose consciousness.\n\n<<display 'Unfamiliar Surroundings'>> \n\n
Justin and Shailene are sat at the table across from you. \nYou ask them how’re things, they reply. The weather is discussed and food is ordered. It’s a multi-dish selection of assorted Danish sushi and sashimi, of which all is excellent. \n\nJustin talks about this and that, Shailene listens and you interject occasionally with some of your own tales, she laughs at some of them - probes for more details occasionally and you all share a bottle of red wine.\n\nThe evening progresses; you learn a bit about them. They seem like nice, regular people and as the meal concludes you say how pleasant an evening this was and that you hope to see them both again sometime. “We should do lunch!” you call back as you get into a cab.\n\nYou never hear from them again though, guessing they’re busy being people doing things and suchwhat. It was damn-fine sushi though. \nWhat was the name of that place? It’s all a bit vague.\n\nAs the years pass you think occasionally back to that brief meeting of two human beings going about their lives. It’s a shame, you think, that there was no way to get in touch with either of them and there are so many people called Justin in the world. \nFewer called Shailene, granted, but finding them proves impossible and you leave it at that. \n\nSomewhere in the back of your mind there’s the niggling feeling that you should have behaved differently around them. Perhaps hurling underwear or promise-rings was more appropriate?\nYou think that’s an odd way to behave, even for the Crazy Place. \nThese feelings waver and fade in time. \n\nSome years later you wake up with a hat on the floor next to you.... \n\nYou look at it, and decide you [[Do not wear the hat|Nothing Bad Will Happen]]
As time passes you start to feel strange. It seems to you as though the room is getting bigger. Then suddenly you realize that it is not the room that is growing larger, but you that is growing smaller. After five hours you finally stop shrinking, and Mike picks you up and puts you in a round glass bowl, where you will spend the rest of your days imitating a goldfish. ''FIN.''
As you heft the magic sword you undergo a strange transformation. Your brain shrinks to the size and shape of a raisin. You develop bulging muscles in places you didn't even know you had muscles. As you wield the sword over your head your IQ plummets to single figures. You have become BRUNTOR THE BARBARIAN! Donald lowers his copy of Foucault's Pendulum, peers over his half moon spectacles and tuts as you swing the blade in a sweeping arc, missing his head by several feet and violently removing your own. [[FIN|To Sleep Perchance To Dream]].
Kindergarten is like the ocean, she says. \n\n"I know that, but what does it mean?" you ask.\n\n"Well, let's turn to page 972 and see. I also know you're looking to get out of here - well, here's what you need to do to escape the crazy place...."\n\nYou can barely believe your ears, here is someone who knows how to escape!\n\nHer finger is pointing to a page in the atoz and at the tip of a nail is the name is 'Alice Road'. \n\n"Go to number 2 Avery Court, press the intercom and listen to the message."\n\nDo you want to go to Alice Road, Aldershot and [[listen to a message|Pre-recorded Message]] or ask her [[what's on Alice Road?|Alice Road]]\n
You hitch up your tutu and leap into the air, beating your feet to and fro, and beating one of your opponents senseless in the process. Then, with a quick pirouette, you catch the other a glancing blow across the cheek. He falls into the orchestra pit, where his head becomes jammed in the funnel of a large trombone. The crowd roars. The referee pronounces you the undisputed champion of the ballet. As you take your bow, somebody in the crowd tosses you a bouquet of flowers. Pretty yellow flowers. [[A host of snapping crocodills|My swivelly ankles are no good at parking]]... \n\n
Though you can't actually see yourself in it, the coat feels like a perfect fit. In addition to keeping you warm the coat has the additional advantage of stinking to high heaven, and this repellent quality will enable you to add three SKILL POINTS during battle. No-one will want to mess with you now. \n\n<<display 'You Emerge from the Wardrobe'>>
“By Jiminy, you’re right!” you cry, suddenly overcome with remorse at your recent actions. You decide it is time to do some soul-searching. The task is made all the more difficult by the fact that neither you nor Donald has any idea what a soul looks like. You search high and low, singing\n\n<center>Five foot two, eyes of blue\nBut oh, what those five foot could do\nHas anybody seen my soul?\nBut could she love, could she woo?\nCould she, could she, could she coo?\nHas anybody seen my soul?</center>\n\nHalf an hour later, you still haven’t found your soul, but you have found the carpet cleaner. Isn’t that always the way? You forget all about the search and set about cleaning the carpet, which is covered in mud from the trenches. While you are doing this, a carrier pigeon files in through the tank hatch with a dispatch from London. The war is over.\n\nApparently, the innocent unarmed civilians have all surrendered, for some reason. You celebrate by opening a bottle of 1928 Krug from your well-stocked cellars. The carrier pigeon celebrates by eating Jiminy Insect.\n\nYour soul is declared MIA, and [[you and Donald are demobbed|Demobbed]]. You decide to keep the carpet cleaner as a souvenir.
You slosh through the waist-deep water, trying to put as much distance between yourself and the //Milky Way// as possible. You'll lose you deposit by abandoning her, of course, but it's better than becoming a Spam fritter.\n\nYou’re wet. Wet. Wet. You can feel it in your fingers and toes. \nIt’s not a great feelings, so rummaging in your plastic bag you find a hair-dryer. \n\nYou turn it on, forgetting you’re in the ocean. Everything becomes electrified and zzzzkzzkzkkzkkkk kz kzkz zz kzkzkzzk. \n\nDonald is waving at you at 60htz and you realise he’s not waving, but is being electrocuted!!\n\nDo you: \n\n[[Save Donald|Glitter]].\n[[Save Yourself|Donald is Doomed]].\n
THE TUNNEL IS A DEAD END. A SUDDEN ROCKFALL BLOCKS THE PASSAGE FORCING YOU TO [[GO THE OTHER WAY|Pitch Black]].
You jump out of bed into a large bowl of jelly* designed to be used as a television. 'Good grief!' you cry as you fall into the translucent orange wobbly stuff, 'What a way to start the day! Where are my carpet slippers? Where's my morning paper?' \n\n'Well, you might as well make the most of the situation,' says the kindly little old lady who shares the bowl with you and Donald, 'this jelly is jolly good stuff, you know!'\n<<<\n#[[Help the old lady to eat the jelly|Factory Mix Up]], \n#[[Tell her to eat you instead|Dead, By Gum!]], or\n#[[Get out of the bowl as quickly as possible?|Tunnel Of Doom]]\n<<<\n*That's Jell-o to anyone reading this in the good ol' US of A.
"Not a moth?" exclaims the moth-doctor in surprise. He shakes his head sadly before whispering something to the moth-nurse. "You're obviously in shock," he continues, "but perhaps this mirror will help clarify things." The moth-nurse takes a small make-up mirror from her hand-bag and holds it up to your face. There is no doubt about it, from the feathery antennae on your head, to the brittle, papery wings that sprout from your back, you're a moth, alright. Either that or you are suffering from some Kafka-esque nightmare. \n\n[[See a psychiatrist|Metamorphosis]] \n[[Ask about dessert|That's More Like It]]\n
Before very long you arrive at a clearing where you find a very queer house; a fairy house. It is a large toadstool, with a sweet little door in the thick stalk, with a lamp over it, and a tiny lattice window. The door is open and through it you can see a tiny stairway going up to the head of the toadstool. \n\nWill you [[enter the toadstool house|Chocolate]], [[keep walking along the path|The Beach]] or [[turn back and take the other one|Footprints]]?
You pluck a leaf from one of the paper trees, thread it into your IBM Selectric typewriter and commence hammering the keys haphazardly. \n\n"Dear Mr. J J,\n\nI have now been trapped in this Godforsaken place since I don't know when. I'm not sure if this is even going to the right person, but I have been informed by the most repugnant, irritating, odious CLOWN of a man, that you are the one running things around here. He assures me that if I find the silver butterfly, and attach this letter to its red wings, it will somehow get to you.\n\nPLEASE help, Mr. J J. You're my only hope\n\nI beg to remain, Sir, your most humble and obedient servant,\n\nSo and So".\n\nDo you want to:\n\n[[Try to find the silver butterfly|The Silver Butterfly]]\n\nor\n\n[[Rip the letter into tiny shreds|Rip Torn]]. If you do so, it most certainly will NOT get to the author.
You try to kill the tiger, but unfortunately, it gobbles you whole, what a shame. ''FIN.''\n\n<center>'Tyger Tyger burning bright,\nIn the forests of New York:\nIn Manhattan it's polite\nTo eat folk with a knife and fork.'</center>
A second later Geoffrey brings down the machete, severing the ropes that bind you to the chair. When you open your eyes you are surprised to find that you are still alive and in one piece. Instantly you regret the promise you made in your prayer that if you came out of this alive you would try to be nice to Donald. The face hovering in front of you breaks into a goofy grin.\n\n'I'm your biggest fan!' says Geoffrey. He pushes something into your still shaking hands. You look down to see that it is a book, an old brown hardcover 1978 diary with a lot of pages torn out. It seems to be a handwritten account of your adventures, though the handwriting is unfamiliar. 'Can I have your autograph?' gushes Geoffrey, handing you a pen. Without taking your eyes off the gentle giant, you inscribe the book 'to my dear friend Geoffrey' and hand it back to him. 'I've decided to join you on your adventure!' says Geoffrey enthusiastically. 'With my brawn and your brains and Donald's...' he struggles for a moment, then rallies 'and Donald, we'll be out of the Crazy Place in no time!' \n\nChoose: \n\n#[[If you would like to have Gentle Geoffrey on your side|Glad To Have You On Board]], \n#[[To run as fast as you possibly can|Corridor of Doom]].
The wizard gives you 24 hours to come up with the dosh. You go home and turn to the job ad page of the Crazy Place Chronical, but unfortunately you are overqualified for most of the positions available. Suddenly your attention is drawn towards a small ad at the bottom of the page:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">GUINEA PIGS WANTED FOR DANGEROUS SCIENTIFIC EXPERIMENTS<br>Survivors handsomely rewarded<br><br>Mezzanine Floor - Room #184<br>Ask for Mike</div></center></html>\nIf you're desperate enough, you can [[respond to the ad|Maniac Mike's Laboratory]]. Otherwise, you can either [[claim the dole|New Government Regulations]], or [[forget the whole matter|Wizard Attack]], hoping the wizard will never find you.
For a few moments you gaze heavenwards, in a brown study, watching the little cotton wool clouds as they swing gently in the breeze from a ceiling fan. Around and around they go, in little circles.\n\n'Sometimes it feels as though we're just going around and around in little circles' you hear yourself say.\n\nSuddenly your reverie is broken by an elbow in the ribs. It is Donald. He wants to know which path you're taking.\n\n[[Take the right hand fork|The Right Hand Fork]]\n[[Take the left hand fork|The Left Hand Fork]]\n[[Head back to the lift|Flamenco Dancers]]\n\n
You land in a pig sty next to Mr. Biglet. Unfortunately the psychiatrist has transformed into a kiwi. You look down at the mud that you're sitting in and notice that your feet are changing into webbed ones. Do you: [[leap out of the sty rather swiftly|A Running Jump]], or [[wait in the sty to transform|Pairs of Scissors from Austria]].
You search your pockets for money, but all you find are holes. The clown introduces himself as Donald McRonald, but before you can reply he takes two fingers and stuffs them up your nostrils for a joke.\n\n<<display 'Custard Cavern'>>\n
'Donald, I know how much you love these sheep but they'll only slow us down,' you say, but your pleas fall on stony ground. Donald commands the sheep to sit down, and when you try to push through them they brace their muscular shoulders together forming an impassible barrier.\n\nYou briefly consider going back the way you came, but the thought of all those angry account managers and sales executives makes you think again. In the end there is nothing you can do but [[give in|Donald is Victorious]]. You are vastly outnumbered.
You fill your pockets with more of the crystals, but they melt and run down your legs, the reason being that they are BATH CRYSTALS. When the truth finally percolates through your intelligence, the crystals are percolating through your trousers.\n\nYou must now either:\n\ni) [[Fill your pockets with more of the crystals]]\nii) [[Leave them and get out of the cave]]
At your command, Donald produces a chainsaw from one of his many pockets and sets to work on the doorway. Having completed this task he proceeds to reduce the rest of the bar to matchwood. The gnome pushes past you at a surprising speed saying 'Thanks for your help, chaps - I'd love to stay and chat but I have to be somewhere a long, long way from here!' Before long Donald has reduced the entire world to a pile of splinters. As he steps back to admire his handiwork you remark 'Great, Donald, just great. Just how're we supposed to escape from the Crazy Place now that it doesn't exist?' \n\nWhat would you like to do?\n<<<\n#[[Attempt to stick it back together with glue|No More Glue]], or \n#[[Send off for a new one by collecting six coupons from the tops of Cornflakes boxes|Cornflakes]]?\n<<<\n\n
The elevator begins to descend rapidly, so rapidly in fact, that for a short while you become weightless. Fortunately it decelerates quite gradually, and when it stops you step out into a long, winding underground passage. The doors that close behind you are built of solid rock, and blend in with their surroundings so as to give the impression of a dead end. You decide to explore the maze of passages that unfold before you. \n\nWill you go \n\n# [[Straight ahead|A large wooden door]], or \n# [[Down a side passage to your left|A sign]]?
The lead singer of JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!! is just about the most dreamy creature that ever existed. You have a crush on all the others of course too, whatever their names are.\n\nAs the executive of their music label, you can now arrange that meeting where you explain eloquently and delicately the nature of your desires. \n\nDo you: \n\n[[Call him in for a meeting!|Call him in for a meeting!]]\n\n[[Reflect on why you love him so.|Reflect on why you love him so.]]\n
"Rupert Rupert save time for a cracker soup taking these shoes on holiday" you say. "Peeling off traffic berating Nerys" replies the pigeon. You begin to wonder if all this gobbledygook has a hidden message. "Message?" you ask, and slowly you feel your and the pigeon's spirit become as one. Chirping merrily to yourself, you begin to strut up and down in search of stale bread, old bacon rinds or some other delicacy. Out of the corner of your eye you notice a trail of hamburger crumbs leading out of the room. \n\nYou begin to [[follow the trail|Donald Is Molested By A Giant Chicken]] eating the crumbs as you go.
UP waves his arms about and casts a spell on you. You soon realise why he has such a funny name as you and Donald begin to float towards the ceiling. You feel lighter than air as you start to expand like balloons. With a look of horror on your face you see the ceiling is covered with pins, and as you reach it you both POP!!!!!! \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
'I'm sorry' says Uncle sadly, 'but that's not the right answer.' He pulls a lever, the carpet tiles draw back and you fall into a pit of boiling mud. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * * ''
Why? Well: \n\nHe launched a thousand ships with his face.\n\nHis body is hotter than the tomato slices inside a cheese and ham toastie. \n\nWhen he proposed to his (then 19 year old) girlfriend, you had people at your record label talk to him in private about how this would hurt sales before the news broke\n\nHe announced to the press the next day that they were promise-rings, she broke off the engagement at this. \n\nIt was an ongoing PR disaster until their latest single “I will love you until the heat-death-of-the-universe” was released and everyone forgot about it because the video had them with their shirts off under a waterfall. \n\nSimultaneously your Hitachi shares went through the roof, so you sell them for another small fortune and buy enough of their singles to ensure a global #1\n\nChoice A) \n[[You are a music executive.|You are a music executive.]]\n\nChoice B)\n[[CHOICE B DOES NOT EXIST|Splatted!]]
You decide to take the left hand fork, and rather surprisingly, it is a very pleasant journey - on which Donald seems to have gone off to do his own thing somewhere - leading to a hammock tied to two trees, basking in glorious sunshine next to a refreshing looking swimming pool, which is, in turn, alongside a highly trained monkey wearing a tuxedo and tending a bar.\n\n'How much are the drinks here?', you enquire, and are bewildered to be told by the softly spoken, very helpful monkey, that they are free.\n\nAre you going to [[stay there all day|Luxury]]?\n\nOr are you suspicious of all this niceness, to such an extent that you decide enough is enough and [[return to from whence you came|An Olive Branch]]?
You take a running jump and hurl yourself through the window after the psychiatrist. With a gasp of horror you realise that Mr Biglet's office is situated on the 85th floor. There is little you can do to prevent yourself from plummeting towards a grisly death. Choose: \n<<<\n#[[If you wish to do little.|In a Flap]]\n<<<\n\n
'Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!' you cry, snatching the banjo out of Donald's hands and smashing it over his head. Suddenly and without warning, Donald launches himself through the air, pins you to the floor and pulls out a ball of string, which he then attaches to your mouth and pulls until your mouth is fixed into a ridiculous grin. He then informs you this will last at least two hours. \n\nDo you: \n<<<\n#[[Attempt to pull your mouth straight|Hard Work]], \n#[[smash Donald's teeth out with the hammer you stole earlier from the fat gnome|What You Smiling At]], or \n#[[wander around talking utter gibberish to whoever may be listening|The Duke of Oslo in a pushbike CRUMBLE]] ?\n<<<\n\n
''by J. J. Guest''\n\nThere are only two things you can do when you’ve gone and done something like writing //Escape from the Crazy Place://\n<<<\nA) Shove it under a pile of stuff and hope that nobody notices. \nB) Dress up as an ostrich and parade up and down with a big sign saying ‘LOOK AT THIS!’\n<<<\nHaving spent a considerable portion of my life working on this harebrained slumgullion of an interactive novel, I decided to go all in and plump for the latter option. After all, it isn't just my time I've wasted. //Escape from the Crazy Place,// an interactive round-robin novel, began in manuscript form in 1984. There have been around fifteen authors in all. Some wrote just a passage or two. Loz Etheridge, my oldest friend, has written hundreds, introducing some of the more memorable characters. In recent years, another close friend, Mark Bailey, has added his own idiomatic voice to the mix. There was no plan. We simply made it up as we went along.\n\n//Escape from the Crazy Place// is an absurdist work that aims to hold a mirror to the absurdity of existence whilst cocking a snook at the mirror. Of all my interactive fiction, it is the piece that best expresses my personality. I am the player, striving, always striving. Striving to be better, to go further, to at least achieve //something.// I am also Donald, standing on the sidelines, detached, amused, laughing as the player stumbles over one precipice after another.\n\nCan YOU make it alive through the forest of the Ostrich People? Fathom the mysteries of the marmalade sat-nav? Survive the mutiny on the 'Milky Way'? Discover why you have ham on the brain, ham on the brain, ham on the ham on the ham on the brain?\n\nCan YOU escape from the Crazy Place?\n\nCan I? Can I?\n\nJ. J. Guest\nApril 2017\n\n[[Back|previous()]]
You dip him into the custard and retrieve several valuable looking crystals. The sieve creature then nips your finger and swims quickly away.\n\n[[Put the crystals in your pockets]]\n[[Leave them and get out of the cave]]
In the ink in the fine-print on the ticket are the instructions for how to get to the concert. \n\nLooking closely at the fine print makes your eyes go crossed, but then you see that it's like one of those @Magic' 3D pictures of a teapot that you can only see when you cross your eyes!\n\n\nWith everything blurry apart from the teapot the rest of the world goes beige, you start to hear people chanting WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!\n\nTheir intonation makes it clear they're saying "WE LOVE YOU "JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!"" and not chanting the name of one of the singers, followed by "We love you!!"\n\nIt's important to know this because there is nobody called Justin in the band. \n\nWith a plouf of beige, you [[vanish!|Inside a Cereal Packet]]\n
You are sawn in half, surprise surprise. The saw is made blunt when the magician tries to cut through Donald, but you are sadly in two pieces. Since your legs have decided to make a run for it, Donald offers to carry you on the rest of your mission. \n<<<\n#[[Set off in search of your runaway legs|A Yak-Infested Storeroom]]\n#[[Saw the magician in half|A Water-Squirting Cheesecake]]\n<<<\n
“Osvult...” you ask in a way that clearly sounds like you have more to say than just his name.\n“Yes?”\n“How long have you been here?”\n“Here where?”\n“Here in the Crazy Place...”\n“What’s the Crazy Place?”\n“It’s here.”\n“Ah, well, I guess forever. I don’t remember arriving very well. It all just sort of started out very big and slowly got smaller to about this size. It was weird. Even my parents shrank!” \n\nOsvult went on: “They were huge when I first remember - Towering over me, but as I got older they and everything around me shrank down until I was almost eye-to-eye with them. It was most odd.”\n\n“Yes, that is odd” you ponder. “In fact, I think the same thing happened to me too - when I was younger, I couldn’t reach the top of the table, or see what was on it, but then as I aged a bit it shrank down to eye-level and then eventually was small enough to even hop up on and sit on the edge of. Only mother wouldn’t let me do that for long. I think things stopped shrinking when I was about 15 or so. Very strange.”\n\n“What if it starts shrinking again?” says Osvult, suddenly alarmed. He flaps his wings and begins to turn around slowly in circles, a look of mounting concern on his face. Suddenly he clutches you by the lapels, pulling you close so that all you can see is the wild stare in his eyes. “Tell me?” he says, wildly, desperately, “tell me the meaning of life?”\n\nDo you tell him [[the meaning of life|Flocks of Thought]]?\nDo you tell him about [[the birds and the bees|The Birds and the Bees]]?\n
You resign yourself to spending the rest of your adventure tied to a chair. Progress will be slow, but you that's what you get for forgetting to bring a nail-file. <<display 'Bolted!'>>
‘So, what do you do when you’re not tending bars - olive-boy?’ you ask, knowing that you’re flirting dangerously, spinning your bar-stool left and right slightly in a seductive wiggle that echoes noticeably up through your bosom. Hell - why not flirt, he’s a pretty-boy? \n\nYou take a sip from the Martini, pinky-finger extended. Damn! It’s a good Martini. \nYou’re stirred, so without waiting for a reply from him you slide off the barstool and sashay around the end of the bar - pull his ear in towards you by the ropes around his neck; \n\n‘Koosh’ you whisper into his soft, furry ear. It flicks at you momentarily before he drops to his knees, as expected. ‘I’d like to take you through the eye of a needle’ you say down to him huskily, looking directly into his golden-brown irises and winking theatrically, much like that man with the enormous coat. Somehow this doesn’t break the mood and you lead him away into a darkened-side room. \n\nPassion, lust and undying love are defined by what happens next. \nFor your precious minds, dear reader: We need only say that the ropes came in handy....\n\n[[Continue.....|Forget what?]]
You are just putting the finishing touches to your parachute when there is a sickening thud and you awake to find that you have fallen out of bed again, dragging your patchwork quilt with you. 'It was all a dream!' you exclaim, suddenly feeling rather foolish. \n\nWill you: \n<<<\na) [[Try to get back to sleep|No Alarms]], \nor: b) [[Get up and start the day with a smile?|Jelly]]\n<<<\n
Reluctantly Donald walks onto the stage to receive your award from the tuxedo-clad angel who is acting as compère. The crowd, forced to suffer millenia of agonisingly dull acceptance speeches, suddenly sit up to attention as Donald snaps off the head of the statue (which looks like an Oscar with wings) and tosses it over his shoulder. Even the cobweb-covered neanderthals, whose moment of glory came and went a million years ago, cannot help but laugh as Donald produces an oversized pair of scissors and snips off the compère's tie. And the whole auditorium roars with laughter when the compère bends down to pick up his tie and Donald snips off the tails of his coat. Purple faced with rage, the angel turns around to find that Donald has borrowed his harp, and is peaceably playing away as innocently as a new-born lamb. \n\nBut the proceedings are interrupted when a gigantic hand descends from the upper reaches of heaven and plucks you and Donald from your seats. Standing on the palm of this gigantic hand, you drop to your knees and beg forgiveness. But it's too late for that - Donald, who hasn't been to the lavatory for 500 years, suddenly decides that this would be an appropriate time and place to relieve himself. \n\nYou are banished forever to [[the bowels of HELL!|either("Start","Another Padded Cell", "Yet Another Padded Cell)]]']] (or at least that's what it looks like...)
You land in a pit of what at first you take to be snakes, but which happily turn out to be harmless jellied eels.\n\n'Whatever next?' you ask yourself as Donald hauls you out of the pit. No sooner have you dusted yourself off and removed the last of the eels from your trousers, than a ten tonne weight drops onto your head. \n\nRoll a die 100 times.\n\nIf six comes up every single time [[you survive this slight mishap]]. Otherwise, you are not so lucky. [[The Celestial Escalator]] appears to convey your soul to eternal rest.
Which one will you try?\n\n<<display 'The List of Remedies'>>
You could tie your left hand to your right foot and still do it in less than eight hours. With the manual, it should take you about six. But you haven't got the manual and your arms and legs are free and you couldn't tell the difference between a 3x10 and a 3x12 self-tapping screw through a celophane bag blindfold so it looks as if you'll need assistance. \n\n*[[Ask Donald for help|Explosion]]\n*[[Ask the guy in the corner with the red baseball cap|Lead Screwdriver]]\n*[[Seek spiritual guidance|Zen and the Art of refrigerator Maintenance]]
You do so. \n\nUpon your return to the clock's huge face you are surprised to find a strange little figure waiting there for you. Bowler hatted, bespectacled and Bermuda-shorted, he has a tasteless medallion strung around his neck on a heavy gold chain. The medallion has words engraved upon it - perhaps his name. As you bend forward to take a look, the lights go dim and [[suddenly the room is full of black-clad sceneshifters|Scene 238]].
Four minutes and fifty-seven seconds later, the door opens and Donald emerges.\n\n'It was just a broom cupboard.' he says, in the universal language of mime. Together you [[head down a narrow side passage leading East.|A sign]]\n
You introduce yourself to the fat gnome, telling him of your mission to escape from the Crazy Place, and giving an account of your adventures so far. You are just getting to the part about the slippery floor when the gnome interrupts you:\n\n'Yes yes that's very interesting,' he says 'I'm sure that under different circumstances I could happily listen to you droning on for hours, but you couldn't help me out could you old chap? I seem to have gotten myself all tangled up!'\n\nWill you [[cut the gnome free with your cable cutters|Thanks Awfully!]],\nOr [[leave him and save yourself before it's too late|On a Tangled Tide]]?
To your surprise there is no music on the tape at all, but a thin, reedy voice that is strangely familiar. \n\n"Hello, hello," it says, "Paolo Pillow speaking!" \n\n"And String-Bean Smith!" says another, rather similar voice. \n\n"There's something we forgot to tell you," resumes the first voice, "if you want to escape from the Crazy Place, you must first..." \n\n"...milk the Cow of Honour!" interrupts String-Bean. \n\n"No, no!" says Paolo Pillow "They've already done that!" \n\n"Not necessarily," objects String-Bean, "Their names might be Harriet, Algernon, Rebecca or Mervyn, or their shoe size might be 10, or in real life they might be bubble headed ventriloquist Keith Harris." \n\n"True, true," says Paolo Pillow, "But we haven't got time for this. We're running out of tape. Now listen very carefully! If you want to escape from the Crazy Place, you must first go to the Bargain Basement. There is something very important engraved on the wall there, if the Boss hasn't covered it up with one of his dreadful paintings." \n\nYou can't believe your luck! And to think that you almost threw this tape into the custard. How the Blue Custard Groover ever mistook this for music is beyond you, however. It most probably had something to do with the fact that he's an idiot. There is a brief pause on the tape, after which you hear the voice of String-Bean Smith. \n\n"When Bob and Joy had enough sense to act correctly..." but he is interrupted by his companion. \n\n"Oh, not that again!" says Paolo wearily, "How many times do I have to tell you - nobody wants to hear your stupid prose poetry!" The tape runs out with a [[click|Marmite]]. \n
You only get as far as 'My sense of humour is...' before you are interrupted by a shrill ringing. The priest reaches under his robes and pulls out a telephone. 'It's for you,' he says handing it over, but quite how he knows this is a mystery, since he hasn't answered it yet. \n\n>1) [[Take the call|Booked for a Driving Lesson]]\n>2) [[Jump on the donkey|Abandon All Hope!]] and attempt a quick getaway\n>3) [[Resign yourself to everlasting misery|The Big Secret]]?\n
With lightning speed you snatch up the mallet and bring it down ''CLANG!!'' as hard as you can on the nose cone of the shell. Unfortunately you are too slow and it seems the irksome insect has hopped onto the nose of another shell.\n\n"Well, now come on, let's talk about this!" chirps the cricket. Without hesitation you ''SLAM!!'' the mallet down on the the nose of the second shell. "Now, I don't think this is such a good idea," says the cricket from the top of a third shell. ''WHAMM!!'' "You know, I really think you oughta..."\n\n''BLAMMO!!!'' Fourth time unlucky.\n\n''You are dead.''
After a further twenty minutes you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. But even from your upside-down perspective you can see that it is not Atlas who has entered the room. Those bright red boots can only belong to Donald. The clown seems quite amused to see you holding the entire planet up. With Donald's assistance you lower the thing carefully to the ground and roll it into a corner. \n\n"I hope that's the last I'll be seeing of that thing!" you say, rubbing your back. Together you leave the room by the door to the north. \n\n<<display 'Rampateuay Returns'>>
When the waiter fails to return your calls, you stalk him for weeks across the trackless desert sands, until a sudden sandstorm erases the imprint of his plodding hooves. You wander fruitlessly for days, until at last you stumble upon the lonely fort where the French Foreign Legion hang out. You decide, as many have done before you, to join the Legion in order to forget.\n\n"Forget what?" says the man in charge.\n\n"I can't remember." you reply.\n\n"That's good enough for me. You can join our other new recruit, Donald McRonald, in the Lost Patrol when it leaves tomorrow morning on a two-thousand mile march across the scorching desert sands." \n\nYou are so excited that you hardly sleep a wink, but the next morning you are disappointed to learn that the two-thousand mile march across the scorching desert sands has been cancelled because it is raining. \n\n"Never mind," says Donald, "I expect this happens all the time. Why don't we take our raincoats and go for a walk on our own?" \n\nChoose: \n<<<\na) [[If you think this is a spiffing idea|You Are Decorated For Bravery]]. \nb) [[If you'd prefer to stay indoors and play a board game|Donald's Idea]].\n<<<\n
"Hey, dude, your buddie's outa beat. House you hangin'?" says the Blue Custard Groover. \n\n"I'm groovin' cool," replies the clown*, "I'm Donald McRonald; this 'ere's me beat buddy, but his/her name's outa tune." \n\nThe BCG's so pleased he calls all his mates and throws a wild party. When it's over you flop down (yes, in the custard) and thank mighty Xoanon that this whole sorry episode is finally at an end. The Blue Custard Groover gives Donald a tape and a personal stereo. "Check this tune out, man, it's bangin'!" he says, and disappears. Donald hands them to you. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n#[[Play the tape|A Message from an Old Friend]], or \n#[[Leave it behind and resume your travels|Marmite]].\n\n *In the universal language of mime.
Welcome to the Celestial Escalator, non-stop moving stairway to paradise. Unfortunately it isn't working. An ingratiating series of posters on the way up inform you that 93,000,000,000 souls use the escalator every year, that it was installed over seventeen millenia ago, and that whilst every effort is being made to recify the fault, budgetary constraints mean that it will be at least one hundred thousand years before it is working again. When finally you reach the top you discover that paradise is a small white room filled with smoke. Some bright spark has obviously decided that a smoke machine would be just the thing to provide heaven with much needed ambiance. \n\n'Somebody open a window!' you yell. Fortunately somebody does. When the smoke clears the word 'Reception' becomes visible across the room. 'Good evening Sir/Madam,' says the angel at the reception desk. 'Please take a seat. Somebody will be along to fit you with wings shortly.'\n\n[[Proceed to the next chapter|The Afterlife]].\n[[Receive an error message|ERROR 404]].
You glance straight up to watch the heads of the couples on the dance-floor above you twirl and gyrate to whichever rhythm that stands out more to them. The mixture of ballroom-dance, mosh, salsa and other styles makes your head spin, that and the fact that you’re looking down on them when you look up. \n\nYou look at your feet instead. \n\nYour feet, you notice, are wheeled. How you never noticed before boggles your mind and makes it spin further; will you dismiss this and [[see what else the party has to offer|A Buffet]], or [[go for a spin|Marble Madness]] around the room?
Amazingly, it seems that even being drunk can be boring after 100 or so years, so you decide to sober up. (Mercifully, this being heaven, there are no such things as hangovers.) Just when you are thinking that the afterlife can't get any more tedious, you are joined at your table by a lady called Imogene and her electric poodle. She proceeds to tell you, (over the course of several millenia) about how she was 'killed alive' by poisoned noodles. You begin to cry, huge tears of boredom plopping like raindrops into your cheap champagne.\n\n[[Apply for reincarnation|Reincarnation]]\n[[Ask for a transfer to 'the other place?'|The "Other Place"]]
You find yourselves in a broad, downward sloping passageway with metal walls. As you turn the next corner you find the passageway, broad as it is, completely blocked by a flock of sheep.\n\n<<display 'Lost Sheep'>>
It turns out that there is just enough slack in the cable to vacuum under the Boss's feet after all, so that's that trope averted. You hang your pinny on the lampshade and leave the office, your work done for another week. [[The lift|Call the lift]] now seems to have been repaired.
Indeed you are. \nChoose one of the following: \n\n1: [[You like tattoos|You like tattoos]]\n2: [[You have teeth|You have teeth]]\n3: [[You have hair that is longer than 20cm|You have hair that is longer than 20cm]]\n4: [[You still have your liver and kidneys|You still have your liver and kidneys]]\n
"Home?" you say, bitterly, "I have no home. Hunted, despised, living like an animal! The jungle is my home!"\n"You don't need to live there any more, Jonathan. We're from your flock. We are your brothers. The time has come for you to leave this world, and ascend to another."\n\nCould this be it? Could these two, beautiful, starbright gulls really be here to take you away from the Crazy Place? It seems too good to be true. You give one last long look across the sky, and at the //Milky Way,// now a tiny speck on the horizon.\n\n"I'm ready! I'm ready!" you cry "But why do you keep calling me Jonathan?" The seagulls exchange glances.\n"You mean your name isn't Jonathan Livingston Seagull?"\n"No. I mean yes! Yes it is!" you say, thinking quickly, but not quickly enough.\n"I //told// you," says one seagull to the other, "didn't I tell you he didn't //look// right?"\n\nThe clouds break apart, your escorts call "happy landings, sucker," [[let go of the shrimping net|Eels]], and vanish into thin air.\n\n
You decide to take the right hand fork, but before you can pick it up, Donald grabs it off you, yelling that only HE can use the right hand fork, as he is left handed and he will die of hunger. A feisty argument ensues, with Donald continually rebuking the idea that he had ever claimed to be ambidextrous. \n\n'NO', he roars at you, 'I said I was Auntie Dexter!' \n\n'That... doesn't even make any sense', you reply in a wearied tone and turn your back.\n\n'Cooeee', you hear behind you, and turn round to find Donald in a frilly bright pink dress. 'I'm your Auntie Dexter', he coyly, but playfully insists.\n\nDo you:\n\n[[Scream]] over and over again in the hope you may wake up soon from this awful, awful dream\n\n[[Feel in your back pocket|Potato Discovery]] to find out what that potato shaped thing is that seems to have nestled there\n\nor [[write a letter of complaint|A Letter Of Complaint]] to the author of this book?
You put him back where you found him.\n\n<<display 'Leave them and get out of the cave'>>
Fishing around in one of the coat's many pockets, you find what feels like one of those nice little mints with a hole in the middle. Some sweets have nuts in the middle. Some have toffee or fudge or caramel, but for some reason these little mints sell by the million because they have nothing in the middle at all, not even mint. Nevertheless you are famished and would be grateful for anything to eat. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n*[[Eat the mint|You Suck]], \n*[[Try on the coat|A Repellent Quality]], or \n*[[Leave the wardrobe|You Emerge from the Wardrobe]]?
You manage to jump clear. The car disappears over the cliff and all you can see is the board the telephone number and the name of the driving school. 'FOR BRILLIANT INSTRUCTION,' it says, 'CALL 3350-605617.' You can't help but laugh. 'Ah,' says Donald, who is sitting cross-legged on the cliff top, 'you do have a sense of humour after all.' \n\nBefore you made the decision to drive the car, the two possibilities 'drive the car' and 'let Donald drive' existed as a wave function. The moment you decided to drive the car, the wave function collapsed, and one of these two possibilities became an actuality. However, thanks to the "MANY WORLDS THEORY" you can go back and explore the other possibility. \n\nChoose \n\n#[[If you wish to do this|Smoked Glass Coffee Table]]. Otherwise you may \n#[[Continue with your present course of action|A Tree With A Door In Its Trunk]]. \n\n
You step through the door and straight onto a conveyor belt, which speeds you along at an astonishing rate towards a large and very amateurish abstract impressionist painting blocking the end of the passage. \n\nYou may either \n<<<\n#[[Try to get off the conveyor belt|A Long Walk]], or \n#[[Wait to see where it takes you|A Strange Rasping Noise]].\n<<<\n>Alternatively, if your name is Harriet, Algernon, Rebecca or Mervyn, or your shoe size is 10, or if in real life you are bubble headed ventriloquist Keith Harris, [[choose 3|The Blue Custard Groover]].
Pulsating with pique, you snatch the piece of paper from Donald's hands and prepare to tear it into atoms. At the last second you realise that there is something drawn on the other side of the paper. It is a map of the Crazy Place, with the exits clearly circled in yellow.<<set $inventory.push("A map of the Crazy Place")>>\n\n'Donald!' you cry, 'Why didn't you tell me you had this?'\n\nDonald shrugs.\n\nWill you [[follow the map|A Magical Hat]],\nor [[tear it to shreds|A Fat Gnome's Advice]] as planned.
Rough-hewn tunnels lead [[east|One Door]] and [[west|Two Doors]]. Which will you take?
You have made a good choice - the key is right before your very eyes. You now open the chest. You have all the power to rule the seas - but however you have grown to be unhapy (sic).\n\n[[Return the key|The Burden Of Admiralty]]\n[[Keep it to carry on|Washed Away]]
"Come on Donald," you say, "we don't want to get mixed up with one of those cults - they next thing we knew, they'd be asking us to part company with all our worldly possessions."\n\nDonald casts a glance at the sad little polythene bag of rubbish that comprises all your worldly possessions.\n\n"Well," you say, annoyed, "they might want to brainwash us or something."\n\nDonald shrugs.\n\nYou seem to be on top of some huge table or platform, the use of which is unclear. The prophet Rampateuay is standing close to the edge with outstretched arms. He begins to hop from one foot to the other, bellowing forecasts of great doom which will befall you should you chose to jump off. \n\nIf [[you wish to do so|A Nasty Fall]] nevertheless, there is nothing to stop you. Otherwise you should [[try to climb down|A Jet of Gas]], as there's nothing up here but little fluffy clouds.
In order to face your obsessions you need to list them first to establish which should be tackled first.....\n\nAre you obsessed with Justin! We Love You Justin! more than you’re obsessed with Doing Laundry? \n\nIt’s a tough call. Concurrently, are you obsessed with falling? There does seem to be a lot of that in your life. \n\nMaybe obsessed with being unconscious, you spend a lot of your time being that also. \nOr those AMAZING poulaines?\n\nThe Choice is Yours: \nJUSTIN! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!\nLAUNDRY\nBEING UNCONSCIOUS\nFALLING\nPOULAINS\n\nIf none of those things tickle your fancy, you decide to [[tickle it yourself|Fondant Fancies]]\n
You hit the wall as hard as you can, with the hamburger. The wall collapses. So do the other three.\n\n<<display 'A Large Box'>>
The ladder reaches the top of the wall and Donald climbs up it. On top of the wall, he picks it up and uses it to get down the other side. He then wanders off leaving you with no option but to find a way around the wall. Which way will you walk?\n\n[[East|A Long Walk]]\n[[West|Periscope]]
"You know, I swear this screwdriver is made of lead," says the guy in the red baseball cap, who seems to have a whole toolkit hidden away in the lining of his leather jacket. "You turn once, and the whole end of it just isn't there any more." Within minutes the fridge is in a million pieces, but alas it never gets put together again, because at that moment... \n\nThe mad Cavalier arrives on the scene! With a swish of his sword, down come your trousers. You bend down to pick them up and SWISH! Off comes your head. With only a lead screwdriver for defence you are no match for his superior swordsmanship. \n\n\t''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
At first you feel rather self conscious, but after a while you begin to wonder why you ever wore clothes in the first place. And the funny thing is that soon other people get used to it too, and don't treat you any differently than if you were fully dressed. The only drawback is that Donald has decided to follow your example. [[You can't take your eyes off his...|The land of the Jellybeans]]
As you turn the corner you come face to face with the Boss. He is leading an army of eggs.\n\nDo you \n\n#[[Eat the eggs|A Bold Plan]] or \n#[[Call in the Brussels sprouts|The Boss is Defeated]]? \n\n
You are evidently a miser and thus deserve whatever fate throws your way. The chair is sold to an extremely fat gnome who fails even to notice that you are there. Suddenly everything goes dark.\n\n<<display 'A Warm Cocoon'>>
'Wait!' says the pigeon as you are preparing to roast it on a spit, 'Don't eat me! I came here to deliver a parcel for you! I've been carrying it under my wing all the way from Oslo! You try flying all the way from Oslo with a parcel tucked under your wing!' The pigeon gives you a small box wrapped up with brown paper and string. \n\n'I wonder what it can be,' you say, forgetting all about eating the pigeon in your excitement. You open the box to find a small doll inside which looks remarkably like you. 'just what I've always wanted,' you say, 'my very own Voodoo doll.' \n\nWill you \n<<<\na) [[Put it back in the box|I Like Kittens]], \nb) [[Give it to Donald for safekeeping|Attacked by a Mad Acupuncturist!]], or \nc) [[Roast it on the spit|You Must Be Mad]]?\n<<<\n
You are served up a pair of socks in a rich creamy sauce. 'What happened to my triple hulaburger?' you ask. \n\nDonald replies 'Hulaburgers. Mention word don't that. All makes the mixed it get up words.' \n\nIf scared are choose you [[(1)|Tremble You Jelly Like]]. \nDonald strangle you want if to [[(2)|So does he]] you choose.
Congratulations. You are now the proud owner of a Victorian button back armchair, stuffed with finest quality horse hair and upholstered in tangerine and heliotrope paisley chenille. Its scrolled arms encase you in a formidable reverse bear hug.\n\nAfter about a year the chair grows bored of you and, flexing its great arms, floors you with an inverted double underhook brainbuster. You land on your head, demolishing a smoked-glass coffee-table worth about three grand.\n\n[[Leave as quickly as possible|HEADS]]\n[[Ask the hunchback for a refund?|404 Goblin Not Found]]\n[[Book the armchair for five bouts at the Crazy Place Sportatorium|Sportatorium]]
You awake one morning, bright and early, to find that everyone has left. Even the fake, knitted squirrels have disappeared from the cardboard trees. You call your dearest friends and relatives, but everyone pretends not to remember you. You walk into a bar to drown your sorrows, but everyone points and laughs at your cravat. The barman, keen to preserve the bar's fashionable reputation, refuses to serve you. \n\nEventually, you die of loneliness.\n\n''FIN''
Slumped in the corner of the cell, you stare fixedly at the ceiling, wondering idly why it has air holes in it. Donald, who is sitting in the opposite corner, produces a banjo and begins to play it very badly. It's the tune to the number one single 'Fluffy Bunnies' by the boy band ''JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!'':\n\n<center>Though it seems you feel nothing for me\nYet it's true\nI've got fluffy bunnies for you!"</center>\n\n'Oh, gods no! Anything but that!' you moan, covering your ears. This time Donald takes pity on you. He removes his hat (though you'd swear he hadn't been wearing one) and hands it to you. It is a magical hat, apparently, bought from the giant slug you encountered in the cabbage patch, which, Donald assures you, accurately reproduces in the mind of its wearer the mental state of a teenager with a crush.\n\n[[YOU WEAR THE HAT|You are a Teenager with a Crush]] or\n[[YOU IGNORE IT|Nothing Bad Will Happen]]\n\n
The old man introduces himself as Rampateuay of the Hills and tells you he is a prophet, come to warn you of great danger. Suddenly, in a much louder voice, he shouts\n\n'WATCH OUT!'\n\nYou are so surprised that you take a step backwards and fall into [[a bramble bush|Denuded!]]. 'Don't say I didn't warn you!' says Rampateuay, and he runs off into the distance.
Down and round, round and down, the staircase winds its way deeper and deeper into the earth. \n\n'It can't be much further to the bottom,' you say to yourself as you [[trudge down the steps|The Stairs Continue Downwards]], but there is still no sign of the end...
The chest of drawers proves to be rather more seaworthy than your previous vessel, taking 9.73 seconds to disappear beneath the waves. <<display 'Wet Feet'>>
'You're in luck,' says the chief weirdo, 'it just so happens that we have special powers and rules (sic) the seas, though in actual fact it's a lot less interesting than most people think.'\n\nWeirdo #2 takes out a magic wand and begins to wave it frantically as though it were stuck to his hand and he were trying to get rid of it. At once the ocean begins to roil and rage. The white foam flies. Lightning streaks across the skies...\n\nThe fishy characters pack their bags, turn tail and head for calmer waters, but being less able swimmers, you and Donald are [[pulled down into the undertow|Washed Away]]...\n\n
'Just think, Donald,' you say, having found the page, 'no more slightly underdone or slightly overdone eggs!'\n\nThe instructions in the Golden Book of So-and-So tell you to remove the eggs from the water when they are done and place them in a bowl of cold water to stop the cooking. While you are doing this, Donald gets busy cutting buttered farmhouse toast into soldiers. \n\nThe eggs are perfect, with firm, custard-like whites and a warm runny yolk - precisely how you like them. After breakfast you and Donald [[resume your mission|DO NOT READ THIS SIGN]] to escape from the Crazy Place with a warm glow in your tummies. \n\nYou throw the cumbersome book into the nearest dumpster. The weight of all that knowledge would only slow you down.\n\n\n\n
Ultimately, this job is so boring that you decide to end it all by jumping off the top floor of the building you work in.\n\nOn the way down, your entire life flashes before your eyes in staccato freeze-frame. When you get to the bit where the ten-tonne weight landed on your head, you realise that you've missed something important...\n<<<\n//That postcard of the Taj Mahal... Now who was it from?\nYou stop, and rewind your memories and view it again, slo-mo...\n'All my love from Auntie Dexter.' Just who the hell is Auntie Dexter?//\n<<<\nHalfway to the executive car park you change your mind. "I have seen the shattering fulgurations of ultimate clarity!" you cry, but despite this, a summit meeting with ground seems imminent.\n\nWhat will you do? (Tick one answer only.) \n\n(A) [[Flap your arms like a bird|Splat]]\n(B) [[Search your pockets for handkerchiefs and sew them all together to make a parachute|A Near-Fatal Blunder of the Aesthetic Sort]]\n(C) [[Schleswig-Holstein]]\n(D) [[Don't know|Don't Know?]]\n
"I wonder what percentage of the world's surface is carpeted," ponders the wig-seller, examining your bald head. "You have an head like an Easter Egg. You know, you ought to consider getting a hairpiece. It's a lot like having your head carpeted. I recommend a nice Berber. Or a sheepskin rug - they're very in right now." \n\nChoose \n<<<\n#[[To purchase the former|A Berber Trap]], \n#[[To purchase the latter|A Sheepskin Trap]], or \n#[[If you'd prefer a wig|A Wig-Seller's Broken Dreams]] \n<<<\n
You better hope I'm wearing crepe-soled shoes!' you say raising your foot. A shrill, persistent ringing can be heard across the room. \n\n'Please don't squish us,' pleads Paolo, 'I'm too young to squish!' \n\nRiiinnng.... Riiinnng.... Riiinnng... \n\n'We'll tell you whatever you need to know,' says String-bean Smith, 'But first for pity's sake please pick up the 'phone!' \n\nWill you \n\n>a) [[Answer the cry for help|Ants and Ogres]], or \n>b) [[squish them|A Chapter That Hasn't Been Written]]?\n
One day, about four months after you first sat in the chair an incredibly ugly goblin arrives who just happens to be a used armchair dealer. He takes a liking to the chair and begins to tow it away - with you still in situ - to his little armchair dealership on the other side of the Crazy Place. The chair is placed up for sale and you along with it. Your only hope is to make the highest bid. \n \nHow high are you prepared to go? \n\n[[£100]] - ? \n[[6'4d]] - ?
Whilst fishing around in the green custard, you come across what feels like the handle of a sieve, so you tug at it thinking that it will be easier to find the diamonds with it. Suddenly, a sieve like creature pops out of the custard and it seems that you are holding his nose! OW! he squeals!\n\n[[Let him go]]\n[[Put him back where you found him]]\n[[Use him as a sieve]]\n
Unfortunately you land in a dustbin and today is trash collection day. You are melted down and recycled as sixteen pairs of rubber gloves (8 pink, 8 yellow).\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
In deference to Clarence's patience, you swing the pickaxe with all the force you can muster. It strikes home with a clang that echoes through the mineshaft, shattering the sugarface into a miriad of neat little cubes that clatter to the floor at your feet. "That's much better!" says Clarence, clapping his hands with ill-concealed excitement. "Quick, put them in the mine-car before Norman comes."\n\nWill you [[start putting the cubes in the mine car|You Begin To Load The mine car]], or [[sit down and take a break|Muggins Here Will Do It]]?
"Simmer down, chaps", says a rather gangly, bookish individual. He sounds rather a lot like Hartley The Hare from the 1970s children's TV show "Pipkins".\n\nHe pushes between you and breaks up the fight. "Now, we can't have people wrestling in corridors. It's against the rules. What seems to be the trouble?"\n\nYou both begin to talk at once, you accusing Donald of defacing the Golden Book of So-and-So, and Donald claiming it was you. The gangly man listens patiently.\n\n"Dear me!" says the bespectacled stranger, "It sounds as though you've both had enough of the Crazy Place, and each other. Follow me. We'll go to the rear exit".\n\nWithout waiting for the gangly man to lead the way, Donald turns and heads down an narrow passage to the west. The gangly man lopes off in the same direction. You eye Donald suspiciously - has he always KNOWN about this rear exit, or is he as much in the dark as you are?\n\nYou follow your would be saviour as he opens the door that, sure enough, reads "Rear Exit". Underneath in small letters are the words "Thank you for visiting the Crazy Place! We hope you enjoyed your stay."\n\nStunned, [[you walk straight out|The PLUMMETING]].\n\n *In the universal language of mime.
It would seem that the cell was nothing more than a large box, and a rather flimsy one at that. It is sitting in the middle of a vast plain that stretches as far as the eye can see. The ground here has a springy texture something like that of a sponge. You warn Donald not to fall into any of the spongy holes. Suddenly Donald falls into one of the spongy holes.\n\n[[Go after him]]\n[[Proceed across this strange terrain without him]]
'You know what, Donald,' you say, 'I'll bet we never see that wizard ever again, and if we do, it'll just be a repeat performance of the first time we met him. That seems to happen quite a lot around here. I don't think we have anything to worry about.' Donald shrugs.\n\nTogether you turn the corner and find yourselves back in the wizard's lair. You could have sworn it was in the other direction.\n\n'Where's my £100?' snarls the old man. You mutter a few protestations, but they fall upon deaf ears. With a deft waggle of his magic wand he transforms you into a smoked glass coffee table, and Donald into a large blue and orange vase. 'Excellent!' cries the wizard. 'My magical tomes and books of arcane lore will look rather smashing on this smoked glass coffee table, alongside that large blue and orange vase, which will set them off to a nicety!'\n\n''You are splatted.''
Just as you emerge from the changing room Donald announces his new invention - the banana burger. Guess where he finds his key ingredient?\n\n''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
You unfortunately land in some rather nasty thorn bushes and are torn to pieces. You are [[DEAD|FIN]].
You have no choice now but to [[take the night bus]] or [[accept the inevitable|Statue]].
It is the most magnificent replica of anything ever built, exact in every detail, and somehow you did it all in just under ten minutes. Not bad for somebody rolled up inside a cardboard tube. You find a painting on the wall (a dreadful sunset such as you might find on the wall of a cheap hotel room) and since you are on a roll with your thinking at the moment, you decide to look behind it. Lo! And behold! You find the following statement engraved on the wall: - \n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">THE ONLY WAY TO ESCAPE FROM THE CRAZY PLACE IS TO BUILD AN EXACT REPLICA OF THE TAJ MAHAL FROM YOUR OWN TOENAIL CLIPPINGS AND THEN CLAP YOUR HANDS THREE TIMES.</div></center></html>\nHowever, Donald convinces you that this is nonsense and you both continue on your way without giving it any further thought. \n\nHaving had quite enough of this floor, you [[head back to the elevator|Out of Order]].
In the nick of time you dodge back inside the cave. The boulder crashes onto the ledge, completely blocking the cave entrance and plunging the cave into darkness.\n\nThere is an ominous grating noise coming from somewhere, but you can't see well enough to determine the cause. On lighting the gas lighter you are mildly perturbed to observe that the walls are closing in. \n\nWill you: \n<<<\na) [[PANIC]] \nb) [[Relax with a cigar|A HORRIBLE SQUELCH]]...\n<<<\n
"I always wanted Scalextric, pwease gimme a Scalextric, oh pweeeaassee" you bawl, unsure why you have reverted to the baby like chatter of your twenties. \n\n"Mmmm" says the - let's face it, creepy - old man, stroking the armadillo that you hadn't previously noticed hanging from his beard.\n\n"Mmm?" you repeat, as he rummages around in the depths of his frankly embarrassing Hannah Montana rucksack. He pulls out a jar of marmalade and places it proudly upon your knee.\n\n"Um, what's that?" you enquire.\n\n"That, my friend, is a talking map. It may look like an ordinary jar of marmalade, but it is actually a Satnav, which is very close to a Scalextric, in my book. Open it, and put your fingers in, and you will be astounded at the ease of use of the buttons."\n\nDo you A) [[Stick your fingers in the jar|Marmalade Satnav]], B) [[Sulk because you never received what you asked for and stomp your feet accordingly|SOUL DESTROYING]] or C) [[Rupert, who does your toenails|Rupert]]?
You get out your ukelele and begin to strum an amusing little ditty of your own invention, but when you turn around to see how Donald is enjoying it you are infuriated to see that he is fast asleep. In a rage you swing the instrument at his head, but it connects instead with a sword held by a tall, elfin looking man with fair hair and pointed ears.<<if $inventory.indexOf("A ukelele") == -1>><<set $inventory.push("A ukelele")>><<endif>>\n\n"I am Tarragon son of Turmeric, King of the elfin clans," he says, "and you have far more important work to do than cracking the crowns of foolish clowns!" \n\nYou decide that he is an hallucination brought on by lack of sleep and stare at him blankly in the hope that he will go away. But he doesn't. Instead he goes on; \n\n"You are the chosen one, chosen by the gods to defeat the dark one!" Here he pauses for effect. "Take this magic dagger," he says, handing you a rolled up copy of Twinkle, the comic for little girls "and go at once to Bangor where you will find the great and terrible wizard Basil. He has held the Kingdom of Korarima under his evil spell for aons. Only the magic dagger can slay him. Only YOU can save us!" <<if $inventory.indexOf("A rolled-up copy of Twinkle, the Picture Paper for Little Girls") == -1>><<set $inventory.push("A rolled-up copy of Twinkle, the Picture Paper for Little Girls")>><<endif>>\n\n"Which way's Bangor?" you say, looking around doubtfully. \n\n"Through yonder portal!" says Tarragon, and as he raises his hand, a glowing doorway appears in your midst. Having nothing better to do, except maybe to get a good night's sleep, you open the door and [[step inside|Not No Nowt]].\n\n\n
You take hold of Donald's left leg and pull as hard as you can. Unluckily, since you are also the size of a spider, this has very little effect.\n\n'Ha ha,' says Donald, presuming you are playing some sort of game with him, and starts pulling at your leg too. To your dismay, your leg does actually come off and you are currently watching Donald waving it victoriously in the air. With horror you realise that all this while you have been nothing more than an animated shop-window mannequin operated by The Boss by remote control.\n\nIt also dawns on you that Donald was never actually part of the Crazy Place at all. He's just been here so long that he knows no different. You begin to feel for him, but wait, you've spotted someone clearing up with a vacuum cleaner. 'Donald,' you say, and you look at each other knowingly. You both scuttle as fast as you can and are sucked up inside the vacuum cleaner. 'This is where our life begins' you say.\n\n(1) [[Proceed to the last chapter|Another Padded Cell]]...
Your plastic carrier bag of worldly possessions contains:\n<<set $_i to 0>><ul><<inventory_>></ul>\n[[Back|previous()]]
Right on cue, a Flamenco band appear to accompany you. They seem almost to have a sixth sense for people about to do the Macarena, appearing as suddenly as a New York umbrella salesman at the first sign of a downpour. Just as suddenly, the gym owner, P-ter and Donald DISAPPEAR.\n\n<<display 'Dumped'>>\n
Really sure?\n<<<\n#[[YES|Too Late]]\n#[[NO|It Was All A Dream]]\n<<<\n\n
A few hours later, Donald is rudely awoken by a cry, echoing and strangely muffled. Lazily he sits up, yawns, pats his many pockets until he finds a Cornflakes McMuffin, scoffs it, and brushes his teeth.\n\nDrowsily he pads through the forest until he finds a hollow tree, from within which a terrible bellowing emanates. Producing a small axe from another of his many pockets, he fells the tree, and out you crawl, cursing and muttering under your breath.\n\n'Don't ask.' you say, brushing the wood chips from your shoulders. From now on, Donald decides, he won't let you out of his sight.\n\n<<display 'All Change'>>
You are unable to find your way back to the tunnel entrance, and after taking several wrong turnings, find yourself in a simply gigantic walk-in closet. With horror you realise that tonight is the night of the high school Prom and you haven't, in the words of the immortal bard, got a stitch to wear! \n\n"He's seen everything in my closet at least a hundred and thirty-seven times!" you sigh, pulling out a rather fetching blue and white blouse from your closet only to find that it is already being worn by your sister Lila who often borrows your clothes as she hasn't any of her own.\n \nVirginia shakes her head a hundred and thirty-seven times. \n\n"I very much doubt," she says, "that you have worn most of that jumble of unfashionable apparel a hundred and thirty-six, let alone a hundred and thirty-seven times."\n\n"Gosh, you are a brick, identical triplet!" you say, giving her a friendly chuck in the solar plexis. Suddenly your favourite acquaintance, Susie, bursts into the room, the sun glinting off her perfectly glossy strawberry-blonde hair. \n\n"You'll never believe what happened to me just now!" she enthuses, an excited smile breaking across her perfectly glossy cherry-red lips. "I was dancing with the fat Gnome," she begins "and he said what a terrible mistake he'd made, and could I still go to the Prom with him. Isn't that great!" \n\nYou gasp in disbelief - the fat Gnome was to have been //your// prom date! \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n#[[Challenge Susie to a fight|A Challenge]], or \n#[[Go to the Prom with Donald, your back-up date|Back Up Backfire]].
That’s the thing about yellow fondant fancies, they taste exactly the same as the pink ones. In a double-blind test, you’d not be able to tell the difference!!!\n\nYou accidentally pick up the pink one, being pink-yellow colourblind. \n\nThis doesn’t matter because they’re the same anyway, like the squares on a Battenberg cake. \n\nYou walk to a primary school during recess and offer sections of pink and yellow Battenberg to the children through the fence. \n\nAfter some weeks an obesity epidemic is noticed by the staff and you are politely asked to leave. As if by magic, the shopkeeper appears.\n\n<<display 'Go with the man from the shop'>>\n
<<set $inventory.push("A large treasure chest")>>The treasure chest is far too heavy for you, so you tell Donald to carry it. To your surprise he picks up the hefty box as though it were made of polystyrene.\n\n<<display 'Which door will you choose?'>>
When you return to the elevator there is a sign on the door saying\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">LIFT OUT OF ORDER<br>BY ORDER OF THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nHaving no other option you return to the shop and look for another way out. Eventually you find a door marked “Staff Only” and [[try the handle|Staff Only]].
THE BOSS: (Reads) 'No-one is allowed in the washerette with slippers on. When washing clothes keep hands dry so no water wouldn't be on the floor so no-one wouldn't slip. (Pause) Thank you kindly. (Pause). Do not overload the wash machine if so you may cause a fire.' (THE BOSS closes the book and places it on the desk.) If you have any further questions, plug in to me.\n\nTHE READER [[waits patiently for their cue|Scene 244]].
You climb down into a long tunnel running through the mountainside. It is pitch dark in the tunnel, but fortunately Donald has recently gained illumination and you are able to find your way by his faint glow. Suddenly you stumble across an enormous gold-plated book lying in your path. The book must have 20,000 pages and quite blocks the passageway. 'What idiot left that lying around?' You complain to Donald. 'Someone could trip over it and have a nasty accident!' \n\nDo you:- \n\n\t1. [[Kick it out of the way|An Extra Toe]], or \n\t2. [[Have a quick flick through its pages|Found: The Golden Book of So-and-So]]?
'Um, Mr Vulture,' you say \n'Call me OsVult' says the vulture-dressed-as-an-ostrich.\n'Um, okay. OsVult...'\n'Yes, Margaret?'\n'I may or may not be called Margaret, but statistically speaking it's unlikely.'\n'Sorry.'\n'Don't be.'\n'What is it you wanted to say?'\n'Well, OsVult, you may not want to hear this, but, oh dear, how shall I put this?'\n'Bluntly. Nicely! Nicely or bluntly. Or both.'\n'OsVult, you're not actually an ostrich.'\n'Not an ostrich?'\n'No.'\n\nThere is a long pause. Then, Osvult cocks his head to one side and stares blankly at Donald's left earlobe for a few moments, before collapsing in a heap, and bursting into a flood of tears so excessive that you want to [[hug Osvult|Hug Osvult]].\n
You instinctively look over your shoulder for bramble bushes, but finding none, relax a little. However, the overpowering funk of the old fraud is causing you to wretch.\n\n<<display 'A prescient prophecy of dire and deadly doom'>>\n
Donald's idea is to disguise yourselves as the Boss and his assistant, then alert the guard, and claim that have been locked in the cell by Donald and yourself, who were disguised as the Boss and his assistant. The plan seems, on the face of it, to be quite clever, and indeed, despite two glaringly obvious flaws, it works like a dream. You are released and the Boss is arrested and locked in the cell in your place. \n\nThe two glaringly obvious flaws were as follows: \n\nOne: The Boss doesn't have an assistant. \nTwo: The only disguises you could find consisted of a Little Bo Peep costume, (complete with crook and stuffed sheep) and an outfit resembling a packet of VUD washing powder that was once used in a TV commercial. \n\nDonald chose the Little Bo Peep Costume. \n\n[[Proceed to the next chapter|Yet more lovely words]]...
Scissors prove to be quite inadequate for the job. Garden shears are no use at all. However with the use of a pair of industrial cable-cutters, snipping away a few hairs at a time, you are able to make a small hole in the tangle of curls. By now the hair fills all the available space, a sea of orange spreading off in all directions. From somewhere within the wiry mass a cry for help draws your attention. Will you [[burrow in the direction of the voice|The Enraveling Ringlets of Destruction]], or [[attempt to disentangle yourself before it is too late|On a Tangled Tide]]?
Donald thinks he might have a mint in one of his pockets. He has 37 pockets. The lance is now about a quarter of a millimetre from the balloon which means you have precisely 0.000005 of a second in which to: \n<<<\na) [[Wait for Donald to find the mint|Mint found!]], or \nb) [[Jump out of the balloon|Trash Collection Day]].\n<<< \n
No you haven't, you cheating rascal! You might have been able to get away with that back in the days of the old gamebooks, but [[it's all computerised now, you know|Oh, Go On Then]]!
You break down into a perfect melody of bubbling sobs, like the lowing of a thousand mournful mooses. As you stagger from tree to tree, the outpouring of your heavy tears soon reduces the paper forest to a porridge-like pulp, and before long you are slogging through a swamp of soggy mush.\n\nYour toe catches on something, perhaps a submerged tree root, and you fall flat on your face in the pulp. Bogged down by all the atrocious analogies and awful alliteration, you begin to slowly sink. The paper pulp has a spongy, fluidlike texture similar to quicksand; if you don't find a way to escape, you will soon be drowned!\n\nYou think quickly. Perhaps there is something of use in the plastic carrier bag you keep your worldly possessions in. You rummage through it quickly, finding\n\n* A book entitled '[[How to Escape from Quicksand and other non-Newtonian Fluids]]' by Maurice Von MacRandolf and James G. G. Robinson Bore.\n<<if $inventory.indexOf("A large bag of breadcrumb coating") != -1>>\n* [[A large bag of breadcrumb coating|Saved by Breadcrumbs]]\n<<endif>>\n<<if $inventory.indexOf("A cuddly toy") != -1>>\n* [[A Cuddly toy|Saved by Synthetic Fibres]]\n<<endif>>\n<<if $inventory.indexOf("A Scalextric") != -1>>\n* [[A Scalextric|Saved by a Scalextric]]\n<<endif>>\n<<if $inventory.indexOf("Satan's eternal soul") != -1>>\n* [[a scroll of My Little Pony parchment on which are inscribed the deeds to Satan's eternal soul|Saved by Satan]]\n<<endif>>\n* [[A plastic buffalo hump|A Perfect Coracle]]\n\n\n\n
You tumble down a long, spirally tunnel not unlike a water slide, until eventually you come to rest in a small chamber with several other passages leading off it. Donald is nowhere to be seen, but a trail of hamburger crumbs suggests that he has gone on ahead without you.\n\nWill you \n<<<\n#[[Follow the trail of crumbs|Donald Is Molested By A Giant Chicken]], or \n#[[Take one of the other passages|A Tearful Reunion]]?\n<<<\n \n
You get out the Monopoly board but to your amazement someone has spilt tomato ketchup all over the chance cards and they are impossible to read. You must play [[Cluedo]] instead.
You reappear inside what looks very much like a cereal packet. You are surprised to find that the packet contains a free 3D cardboard model of Wembley Arena, where there is a rock concert going on. \n\n#[[Enter the model|CHEESY]]; or \n#[[Ask Donald if he has any better ideas|Donald's Idea]]? \n
Donald proposes to cheer you up by doing a party trick. Whisking a piece of paper from his pocket, he draws a face with large, luminous eyes, and asks you to stare into those eyes for five full minutes. He starts the timer.\n\n"10 seconds gone...keep staring...20 seconds gone...keep looking...a minute...more...don't look away...a minute and a half", and so on until you're thinking "I wonder what I'm going to see..."\n\n"Right, that's five minutes up", says Donald, and then sits in silence.\n\n"Yes?", you ask, quizzically.\n\n"Complete waste of time that, wasn't it?", says Donald.\n\nDo you [[laugh|The New Forest]], [[cry|A Soggy Mush]], or [[get angry|A Map of the Crazy Place]]?
[[You feel an unaccountable craving for cheese|Mouse]].
You've spent far too long deliberating! You hit the ground before you get a chance to pull the ripcord. ''FIN.''
Ignoring the trail of crumbs, you choose one of the other passages at random and follow it until you come to another cave. Here you find Donald, looking most upset. apparently somebody has stolen his hamburgers.\n\nReunited with your companion, you may now either [[go east|A sign]], or [[back the way you came|A Broad Concourse]].
You get a bit mixed up and join the cannibals for lunch. Must be the heat. It's a very civilised candlelit affair with silver service and full evening dress.\n\nFortunately you remembered to pack your tuxedo. Unfortunately the cannibals have decided that YOU are to be the main course. \n\nWill you [[excuse yourself|Howdy Neighbor, Happy Harvest!]], explain that you need to powder your nose and try to escape into the jungle, or [[suggest that they eat Donald instead|Terrible, Horrible]]?\n
"I think you've made the right choice, Sir/Madam!" says the wig-seller, fastening the sheepskin rug to your head with the special chin-strap and turning you to face the mirror. "How does that look to you?" Fortunately you can't see how ridiculous you look because it completely covers your head. Unfortunately you can't see where you're going either, and you fall into a deep pit full of spikes. When you remove the rug from you head you realise that the wig-seller was the Boss all along. You have fallen victim to a cunning ruse and it takes a whole box of sticking plasters to restore you to full health.\n\n<<display 'Cackling like a Loon'>>
You run screaming into the jungle, singing show tunes to calm your nerves. \nyou feel your feet pounding to the rhythm. \n"howdy neighbor, happy harvest," you cry triumphantly as you bound down into \na small clearing. \nas you begin a rousing chorus of "c'mon get happy," \nyou notice some poppies by the side of the road. \nWhile still humming, you pick a rather large bunch of the flowers and find a \nsoft patch of grass to sit down on. \nyou stare at the sky peacefully, barely noticing your slight craving for a \ncup of maxwell's coffee. there seems to be [[something fuzzy and orange|A Fuzzy Orange Thing]] that \nyou see out of the corner of your eye. It's frenzied but rhythmic motion has \na soothing affect on you.
You swim up, only to find that the surface of the sea has been abolished by the Boss as part of a crackdown on interfacial phenomena. You are trapped under the water forever!\n\n'You should be dead,' says the distant, echoing voice of the Shopkeeper 'but I am prepared to give you a second chance. When I snap my fingers, you will wake up and return to reality, remembering nothing of your undersea adventures!'\n\n<<display 'Go with the man from the shop'>>
You are, unfortunately, no match for the washing machines, even at low temperatures. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
Donald's idea is to play Cluedo. \n<<<\nIf you want to go along with the idea [[Cluedo]], \nIf you'd prefer to play [[Monopoly]], type "2" and collect two hundred pounds.\n<<<\n\n
'Having second thoughts?' laughs Mike as you try to creep back out of the lab. 'Don't worry - I'm quite harmless really, you know!' and as if to illustrate this he presses a button on his desk, sealing the doors.\n\n<<display 'Aperitif'>>
You barge through the door to the lavatory, ignoring the sign which reads\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">TOILETS RESERVED FOR<br>PAYING CUSTOMERS<br>ONLY!<br>By Order Of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nand find yourself in a tiled corridor. You follow it for several miles, expecting at any moment to come upon a door with 'ladies' or 'gentlemen' emblazoned upon it, but no such aperture presents itself. Eventually, in desperation, you clamp your knees together and attempt a sort of shuffling run, in direct contravention of the signs posted along the corridor which read\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">NO RUNNING\nIN THE CORRIDOR<br>By order of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nEventually, the [[end of the corridor|CAUTION FLOOR WET]] looms into sight.\n
...a laundry. There are rows of washing machines, and a lot of clothes hanging on a line here.\n\n[[Take the clothes|Three People Wearing Towels]]\n[[Take a closer look at the washing machines|Trapped in a washing machine!]]
'What's the worst that could happen?' you say, tying the cravat around your neck. Indeed, it has no immediate effect, except, in your opinion, to make you look rather jaunty. Eventually, though, you begin to wonder if your friends are avoiding you. Donald is spending more and more time with the twenty-three foot lizard man, and less and less time with you. When you ask him whether you've done something to upset him, he assures you that everything is fine, but avoids making eye contact. You can't be certain, but now and again, you think you hear them sniggering at you behind your back.\n\n[[TAKE OFF THE CRAVAT|Life Returns to Normal]], or\n[[DEFIANTLY KEEP ON WEARING IT|Death by Fashion]].
The compound has no harmful side effects whatsoever. \n\n'Oh well, back to the drawing board I suppose,' says Maniac Mike. \n\nHe Thanks you for your valuable help with his research and gives you five Pounds and a bottle of acid for your trouble. As you leave the laboratory you find Donald sitting waiting for you. \n\n'Well, that wasn't so bad,' you squeak, scratching your ear with your hind paw. 'No side effects whatsoever, and if we deposit this money in a high interest account, then in about 200 years we'll be able to pay off that wizard.'\n\nYou find yourself at a junction with passages leading [[north-east|Cravings]] and [[south-west|Cravings]]. [[You feel an unaccountable craving for cheese|Mouse]]
"Just feel how soft that is," says the wig-seller, rolling the Berber rug on the floor and allowing you to trample all over it. But oh! Dear! The rug was covering a deep pit full of spikes, and now you've fallen in! You look up to see the wig-seller removing his disguise and realise that it was the Boss all along! You have fallen victim to a cunning ruse and it takes a whole box of sticking plasters to restore you to full health.\n\n<<display 'Cackling like a Loon'>>
'What's wrong?' says The Boss, throwing back his head and laughing. 'Not having any fun? Well, I must say I'll be sorry to see you go. I've been watching your progress with great amusement! But if you must go, then go you must. Farewell!' With this he waves his wand, and there is a [[flash of light|Surprise Journey]]...
Ha, Ha. Tuff luck matey. You could of got (sic) special powers and rules (sic) the seas. You are now dead. \n\n * * * You are splatted! * * *
'Correct!' says Uncle. 'You have indeed proved yourselves worthy of the titles Poker-Faced Arhat and Buddha Open 24 Hours.' \n\n'In Fact,' says Aunty, turning to face you, 'I think we can now confer the title of Buddha to you, too. From now on, you shall be known as the Buddha Resplendent in Tweed.' \n\n'And now, if you'll just give us the Golden Book of So-and-So we'll let you get on your way...' \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n[[Give them the book|You Finish off the Custard Creams]], or [[refuse to hand it over|Momentary Confusion]] unless they promise to transport you out of the Crazy Place?
So pleased is Donald with his new toy that he refuses to give it back and a tug of love ensues. Eventually the doll's stitching can take it no more and you find yourself holding its head. Donald is very upset - but not half as upset as you are!\n\n''Sorry, you're dead!''
[[Preface]]\n[[Foreword]]\n[[Credits]]
'This is it, Donald!' you say, 'Finally a chance to confront our tormentor, find out why he's keeping us here and demand that he releases us!'\n\nYou knock politely. There is no reply. After a few moments you knock again, even more gingerly than before. Still nothing.\n\n'Oh well,' you say to Donald, 'I guess it wasn't meant to be.' Together you head back to the lift, which now seems to have been repaired.\n\n<<display 'Call the lift'>>
"Stuff this!" You exclaim, and lower yourself to your feet. Immediately the floor and ceiling come together with a tremendous crash, squashing you between them. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted!' * * *''
You go down the hole and wander down a corridor. From behind you you hear Donald shout "Wait for me! " He sticks his head down the mousehole and gets it stuck. You are now trapped in the mousehole. Stepping into a room coming off the corridor you see a familiar looking mouse sitting at a desk.\n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n#[[Hide under the desk|Destruction]], \n#[[Pounce on the other mouse|Jellybeanland]], or \n#[[Stand on your head and count to 30|Cat]]?
Fetching and carrying for a bunch of sea creatures is not your idea of a career, but you get on with it as best you can, in the hope that it will lead to something better. The fish, perhaps emboldened by their successful capture of your vessel, soon begin taking the Mickey, sending you out for pizza and then changing their minds about the toppings. Cleaning the ship becomes a full time occupation, with pizza boxes, drug paraphernalia and dozens of beer bottles left in all the edit suites.\n\nEven sleep is impossible, since you are forced to share your hammock with a brace of ugly five foot groupers who push their unpleasant mouths within a few inches of your body and limbs. Worst of all is the way the bosun, a great white shark, looks at you each time you go on deck, turning first one, then the other, yellow, cat-like eye toward you, drool running from his loose, adenoid-gape with its lining of triangular teeth.\n\nYou begin to get THE FEAR.\n\nIf you can stand it no more, you may [[jump overboard|Wet Feet]]. Otherwise you can choose either to [[mutiny|Mutiny on the Milky Way]], or [[stick it out|Breadcrumb Coating]], in the hope that the ship might, one day, finally make landfall.
'No.' you say, 'This is how we'll play it. You transport us all out of the Crazy Place, then I'll give you your silly book and you can come back here and do what you like with it.' \n\nThere is more agitated chatter between the two of them in a language you do not understand. Then, suddenly, they rush at you together like spoilt children and wrestle the book from your grip. Donald is not much help to you as he has his head stuck in a large blue and orange vase.\n\n'Now you've really upset us.' Says Uncle. 'We're going to send you to the silliest place in the Crazy Place.' \n\nWill you: \n\n#[[Go down on your knees and beg forgiveness|Doom]], \n>Or: \n#[[Grab a lava lamp from a nearby shelf and threaten to pour the contents onto their afghan rug unless they give you the book back|No - Not the Rug!]]?\n\n
With horror you realise that tonight is the night of the high school Prom and you haven't, in the words of the immortal bard, got a stitch to wear! \n\n"He's seen everything in my closet at least a hundred and thirty-seven times!" you sigh, pulling out a rather fetching blue and white blouse from your closet only to find that it is already being worn by your sister Lila who often borrows your clothes as she hasn't any of her own.\n \nVirginia shakes her head a hundred and thirty-seven times. \n\n"I very much doubt," she says, "that you have worn most of that jumble of unfashionable apparel a hundred and thirty-six, let alone a hundred and thirty-seven times."\n\n"Gosh, you are a brick, identical triplet!" you say, giving her a friendly chuck in the solar plexis. Suddenly your favourite acquaintance, Susie, bursts into the room, the sun glinting off her perfectly glossy strawberry-blonde hair. \n\n"You'll never believe what happened to me just now!" she enthuses, an excited smile breaking across her perfectly glossy cherry-red lips. "I was dancing with the fat Gnome," she begins "and he said what a terrible mistake he'd made, and could I still go to the Prom with him. Isn't that great!" \n\nYou gasp in disbelief - the fat Gnome was to have been //your// prom date! \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n#[[Challenge Susie to a fight|A Challenge]], or \n#[[Go to the Prom with Donald, your back-up date|Back Up Backfire]].
You quickly attack the pop stars:\n\n|!NAME |!STRENGTH |!SKILL |\n|Steve Cool (on vocals)|4|0|\n|Nice Fred (guitar)|3|1|\n\n[[If you lose|Test Your Luck]]\n[[If you win|You've Upset The Fans]]\n[[Instructions|Battle Instructions]] on how to fight this battle
You find the laboratory deserted. The walls are lined with shelves of chemicals and there is a strong, acrid smell in the air. After a moment or two a door opens and a man in a lab coat enters. You were half expecting a wild haired mad scientist so it is something of a relief to find this mild mannered research student with a penchant for Hawaiian shirts. \n\n'Hi,' he says cheerfully, 'I'm Mike. People call me Maniac Mike. Please, take a seat...' \n\n[[Sit down|Aperitif]].\n[[Run away|Second Thoughts]].
The plain, green field turns out to be a minefield. The instant you touch down, you are blown into ten hundred thousand milliards of atoms.\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
'Look - ' you say, 'This is getting us nowhere. Why don't we talk this through like responsible adults?' 'Okay,' say the three towelled ones; 'Shoot.' \n\nWill you: \n\nc) [[Offer them an explanation|E = MC Squared]]?\nd) [[Offer them their clothes back|These Aren't Our Clothes!]]?
After a while the cell starts to get very crowded with people who have accidentally read the 'DO NOT READ THIS SIGN' sign. Most of them leave the cell immediately, and never return, but a few, like you, are too law-abiding to leave, and their numbers grow by the day.\n\nBefore long the cell is crowded beyond belief. Donald's hair keeps tickling your nose, a timid little man who looks like a mole keeps prodding you in the ribs with his elbow and an old lady who smells of mothballs keeps humming to herself.\n\n'This is intolerable!' you cry, 'We'll never get out of here unless we break the rules!'\n\n'And we all know what happened the last time we did that.' warns a man with a bag on his head.\n\n'Simmer down, chaps', says a gangly, bookish individual, who sounds just like Hartley The Hare from 1970s children's TV show "Pipkins", 'Why don't we just alter the sign? There's no law against that.'\n\n'That's genius!' you say, eyes wide in admiration. Donald produces an orange crayon from one of his many pockets and you turn back to the sign\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">DO NOT LEAVE THIS DUNGEON<br>by order of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nWhich letters will you cross out?\n\n[[D-O-N-O-T]]\n[[L-E-A-V-E-S-D-U-E-O-N]]
Approaching the event-horizon of the dancefloor you note its curious and scientifically provable distance:\n\nA dance-floor event-horizon is marked with people holding their drinks, in a rough circle at the borders of people who are actually dancing. Some of them are imperceptibly closer than others; glass-dancing - bobbing and nodding but keeping their feet firmly planted still. \n\nPeople on the inside of the horizon have committed to actual dancing; their drinks are on the side - freeing their arms to assorted dance-moves seen on YouTube. \n\nThe two cannot mix and a gap of at least one meter is mandatory.\n\nSince you’re in a zebra-catsuit you naturally want to join the people that think they’re listening to syncopated Jazz. ‘Since that there are 60 musicians playing different tunes concurrently, Jazz would be the only way of describing the music anyway.’ you think to yourself.\n\nDancing past the event-horizon you push through the ballroom, pogo, zouk and salsa dancers. You’re now in the jazz melee, hands waving and smokey. Down some dark stairs is a traditional headless jazz quintet. Their wind-instruments make no sound, this is the art of true Jazz. ''You are dead.''
You throw yourself out of the nest, (which was perched precariously on the edge of a cliff) and four hours later, land safely, but you have unfortunately turned into Bernard Manning.\n\n[[Tell a joke|No Joke]]\n[[Get plastic surgery|Plastic Surgery]]
You run helter-skelter through the maze of ornate pillars, marvelling at the architectural eclecticism of the place until you come to a door marked "Assorted Archaic Artefacts." Hearing the plodding footsteps behind you, you fling open the door and dive inside slamming it shut behind you. You try to barricade the door with a display case of Etruscan fish-knives but it is too late; the handle of the door is already turning. Quickly you hide in what you think is an Egyptian mummy case but which you quickly find is actually an iron maiden. If only you had paid more attention in history class.\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
Too late! Donald has first dibs on the dusting. Even now he's busy plucking the Boss's prize cockatoo to make a duster.\n\nReluctantly you retrieve the [[vacuum cleaner|Cable Trouble]] from the cupboard.
...and round...\n\n[[WAIT|YOU WAIT MORE]]...
You laugh out loud at the sheer stupidity of it, and suddenly everything goes dark, as though somebody had turned all the lights off, and [[when the lights come on again|A secret door]]...
"I really liked it," you lie. "Cheers, mate!" says the punk rocker, genuinely chuffed. Donald says nothing, but he doesn't need to. His expressive face can be read like the reviews section of the New Musical Express, and what it says is this:\n\n//"'Sitting on a Hedgehog', the latest 'song' by Juglugs, is a monochromatic dirge of banal existential imagery cloaked around the merest skeleton of a musical idea. Presumably the soulless vocals and arrhythmic beat are intended to make an important statement about modern nihilism and dehumanisation, but you would have to be completely delusional to think that this kind of rubbish represents a major statement. Neither danceable nor lyrically interesting, it is interesting only in the way that it is interesting to hear a toilet flushing; the aural equivalent of a bad toothache."//\n\nNoticing this, you try to deflect attention away from your friend, but it is too late. \n\n"I'll give you a bad toothache!" says Juglugs, and he raises his guitar like a weapon. You must defend your friend:\n\nJuglugs: Strength = 7 | Skill = 2\n\n* [[You win the battle|Introductions]]\n* [[You lose the battle|Splatted!]]\n\n([[Instructions|Battle Instructions]] on how to fight this battle)
Suddenly realising that you've made a terrible mistake, you turn on your heel, in fact on both of them, and run back to the cave entrance, pursued by hundreds of imps.\n\nImps. Not elves. Imps.\n\nElves: Pointy ears. Pointy hat. Striped tights.\n\nImps: Pointy ears. Pointy horns. Red tights.\n\nUnfortunately the imps are faster than you are, and they overpower you, and drag you by the trouser cuffs back to\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">SATAN'S GROTTO</div></center></html>\nwhere you are unceremoniously dumped upon the lap of the Prince of Darkness. You seem to have little option but to [[tell him what you want for Christmas|SCALEXTRIC]].
Crawling onto the beach you and Donald go your separate ways - he to sunbathe and you to explore. You scan the beach, half hoping to find a chest brimming with treasure. There are none to be seen, but you do come across a chest of drawers.\n\nDo you: \n<<<\na) [[Climb into it|The Sock Drawer]], \nb) [[Launch it and sail away|9.73 Seconds]], or \nc) [[Do 20 circuits of the island singing 'Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag'|'X' Marks The Spot!]], or\nd) [[Stay right where you are|Stock Still]]? \n<<<\n
As you proceed along the concourse the walls on either side increase in height until it becomes a small valley. <<display 'A Darkened Cave Filled With Paper'>>
You surroundings fade, and you find yourself transported to a tangled field of matted orange grass. Donald doesn't appear to be with you. You call his name a couple of times but there is no reply. Meanwhile back in the magic changing room, Donald, who is rather puzzled by your sudden disappearance, scratches his head, and crushes you to death with his clumsy fingers.\n\n''Fin.''
When the lights come on again you are face to face with a vision of holiness - the image of the Purple-Arsed Yogi - intangible and unreal as in a dream. Sitting on the peak of a cloud, surrounded by a wreath of silver mist, the Yogi strikes an imposing figure silhouetted against the disc of the sun. \n\n'If you wish to walk the path of perfection,' says the Yogi in a superior tone of voice, 'you must learn to act piously.' After sitting down and pressing your nose this way and that, you achieve divine consciousness.\n\nOf your own free will, you decide to: \n\n#[[Listen to what is told in the next chapter|A Higher Plane]]...
You sit down, somewhat reluctantly, in what looks like a modified dentist's chair. Mike asks you if you would like a drink. Choose: \n\n#[[If you would|Something A Little Stronger]]. \n#[[If you wouldn't|All in the name of science!]]. \n\n
Donald discovers a ladder lying on the ground beneath a large illuminated sign saying 'ladder.' He leans it up against the wall enabling you to climb over it. Which of you will go first?\n\n[[Yourself]]\n[[Donald|Stranded]]
Immediately there is a sensation of rushing wind. Then, all is dark. Tentatively, you poke your head out of your shell and extend your eye stalks. 'This isn't so bad,' You think after a while. 'I may only have a maximum speed of 1 mile a month, but even living in a cabbage patch has got to be better than listening to that dreadful award ceremony.' As you stuff your face with cabbage you begin to wonder what happened to that clown character you used to hang around with in your previous existence. Suddenly from behind you there is a patter of clown feet, followed by a brief crunch. \n\n * * * [[You are splatted!|To Sleep Perchance To Dream]] * * *\n
You decide to give\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">SATAN'S GROTTO</div></center></html>\na miss and [[check out the local wildlife|The Dreaded Abominable Polar Penguin]] instead.
"Well," you begin. "There are several schools of thought..."\n\n"I'm confused," says Osvult. Really? Already?\n\n"I thought fish came in schools. Birds come in flocks, and so do sheep, so sheep must be a kind of bird. But sheep can't fly, unless you count clouds, which are a kind of sheep with no legs and no eyes, but thoughts come in clouds, at least in cartoons, so maybe they should be called flocks of thought instead of schools of thought?"\n\n"Excuse me," you say, "my head is starting to hurt. I need to go for a good lie down somewhere, preferably somewhere a long, long way from here."\n\n"Oh, don't be like that. I want to learn! I want to be just like you. Tell me about the other thing."\n\n"What other thing?" you sigh, lying against a tree with your eyes shut.\n\n"[[The birds and the bees|The Birds and the Bees]]," says Osvult.\n
"I never liked that Bob Holness anyway," you say, but inwardly you are crying like a baby.\n\n<<display 'A Fat Gnome'>>
Shailene is the most beautiful girl in the world, you say to yourself. \n\n\nShailene is with you in every thought, she has black Spanish eyes and a flat fringe on a glossy black bob, curled in at the tips. She has curly flowing blonde long plats that reach her elbows; a ragged red mop of a strawbush fire that’s feathered to her shoulders, a grade two shaved side and gelled-up black and blue-tipped inch-high spikes. \n\nHer skin’s an alabaster nightshade of coconut brown, eyes blue-grey, green like emeralds in hazelnut cream and so dark that they swallowed your heart whole the first time she looked into yours. \n\nAhh, and her smell - it’s her through and through and is indescribable. \nFortunately. \n\nYou’ve filled your life with her - a picture is in your wallet, heart and wall and you’ve populated your life with little reminders of her. Each street a memory lane of floodlit rose-tinted skipping-through-cornfields blush of love. \nSo. Much. Dopamine. \nHoly, wholly. \n\nAnd there she is, in a beautiful boot-cut dress. Hemlines and highlines abound and a floral Laura Ashley leather jacket, mod-boots and stilettos. Sashaying a stomp across the floor. \n\nAaaha - it looks like she’s coming your way. Looking right at you! \nYour heart and lungs choose this moment to switch places a few times. \n\nDo you:\n\n[[Turn and run for the hills|Run For The Hills]]\n\n[[Stand firm and make yourself look as big as possible|Shhh!]]\n
They take you off to meet their leader, a familiar looking Jellybean in a bowler hat, who looks absurdly small seated behind his normal sized desk. You address him politely, stating that you mean the Jellybeans no harm and that you are simply seeking a way to escape from the Crazy Place. The Jellybean Boss responds by sticking out his tongue and calling you smelly. He then orders a group of other jellybeans to feed you into the Jellybeaneriser. Before you can object they sweep you away towards a strange looking machine...\n\nChoose:\n\n1. [[If you want to try to escape]]\n2. [[If you're curious to know what it's like to be a jellybean]]\n
You launch into a prolonged rant about the Cow of Justice, or Honour or whatever she calls herself, questioning her character, her moral turpitude, her looks, her dress sense and defaming her in as many ways and with the use of as many injurious words as you imagination can provide you with.\n\nAfter listening to this bilious tirade for some minutes, Donald gently points out that the new cowpat is in the shape of an arrow.\n\n'A clue!' you cry, 'Good old Cow! I knew she'd come up trumps!' and you lose no time in following the arrow. It leads you into a corn field. <<display 'Early Dawn'>>
The buffet is perhaps best described by the words 'plethora' and 'festooned', the food best described as 'out of this world'. \n\nAmongst the usual buffet offerings, you know - PGG’s and pigs-in-blankets etc, there are some thrice folded Bargatuan burgers. You stare at them, salivating slightly. \n\nYou’ve not had one of those for an age, mostly because of their hallucinogenic properties - the effects of which can last years. People have been known to come around from a Bargatuan burger trip having birthed, schooled and sent offspring to college and known nothing of it until their progeny return well-educated, balanced, fair and loving. \n\nSome regard a twice or thrice folded Bargatuan burger trip as a way to please one’s own parent’s desire for grand-children - but without the hassle of cluttering up the mind with all those memories of it later.\n\n[[Maybe]] biting into a thrice folded Bargatuan burger would help take your mind off your never ending struggle to escape from the Crazy Place?\n\nOr [[maybe not]]?\n
Poor, poor lady. She could have done with some company. She had a cup of tea ready for you. Do you go into the lounge [[1132]] or ignore her again? [[1067]]
To your surprise the door opens onto a vast plain that stretches as far as the eye can see. The ground here has a springy texture something like that of a sponge. You warn Donald not to fall into any of the spongy holes. Suddenly Donald falls into one of the spongy holes. \n\n[[Go after him]]\n[[Proceed across this strange terrain without him]]\n
"Keep your back straight," nags Clarence, "You'll give yourself terrible trouble in later life if you don't watch your posture."\n\nWill you [[keep digging the sugarface|You're Holding It All Wrong]], or [[attempt to make a break for it|A Shocking Hangover]]?
You return the way you came but come across a dead end. You pay your respects and run back to where you started. Suddenly you realise that Donald is no longer with you. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n\t1. [[Stop and wait for him|A secret door]], or \n\t2. [[Head off along the passage to the left|Cancelled]]?
Suddenly a shiny metal egg carton appears from Donald's ear. It explodes into tiny pieces and the pigeon flies onto it. Not only can it speak, it can also say "coo" without the slightest difficulty. It shouts the word rather loudly into your right nostril. The loudness is too much for you, and you collapse into a pile of sawdust. You are put into a marmalade sandwich and are eaten by a trampoline. \n\nYour last words to Donald are "I didn't see that coming." Donald Shrugs.\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
He is carrying a pair of opera glasses which you use to survey your surroundings. Donald's hair spreads to the horizon in every direction.* Some distance away the top of some sort of tower sticks out forlornly from the forest of hair. This, you realise, must be the helter-skelter. In the other direction is what looks like a small island, but which must be the top of a large mountain. Slowly you [[make your way towards it|The Bald Mountaintop]].\n\n*Only in the Crazy Place will you find horizons in every direction.
The wierdos are mortally offended by your facetious exclamation, which they take as a serious threat. 'How dare you point that fruit at us!' says the chief weirdo in spite of the fact that you possess no such a weapon. You have made a mortal enemy here, and meanwhile several fishy characters are still eating Donald. \n\nWill you \n\n1. [[Grovel before the weirdos and beg their forgiveness]], or \n2. [[Swim down to the ocean floor|The ocean floor]] in the hope that they will be gone when you get back?
You try to prise open the chest with your bare hands, but unhappily in doing so you break a fingernail. Since the nearest manicurist is nearly 500 miles from here, you die instantly of shame. ''FIN.''
You enter a room in which two people, one dressed in black and the other in white, are attempting to perform a ballet based on a book called 'Combat Without Weapons.' Your arrival is something of a distraction, so they decide to practice the third act on you. Choose\n<<<\n#[[If you wish to fight|Pas-de-deux]]\n#[[If not|The Next Chapter]]\n<<<\n\n
Galloping after your runaway legs, with your top half tucked under his arm, Donald finally corners them in a small, yak infested storeroom. However in the course of the pursuit you have become completely disorientated. You want to get as far away from that magician as possible, but neither of you can remember which way leads back to the stage. After pulling yourself together you decide where to go next, your main priority being to escape the terrible stench of yak. There are three doors here. \n\nWhich one will you use? \n\n#[[The square door|either("The Bad Luck Room","Into the Woods")]]? \n#[[The arched door|A vast plain]]? \n#[[The round door|It's A Jungle In Here]]? \n\n/%Originally the square door led to the the bad luck room (already three incoming links) The arched door led to the vast plain (2 incoming links - this should stay) and the round door led to the indoor jungle - this can also stay as this storeroom bit bypasses the pigeon.)%/
'I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do for you Mr. Manning, except melt you down and remould you into two Paul Daniels!' says the plastic surgeon.\n\n[[Continue being Bernard Manning|You Must Be Mad]]\n[[Become two Paul Daniels|Sawn in Half]]
You run screaming through the darkness, quite unable to see where you are going, until you stumble across something soft and warm.\n\n[[Curl up and go to sleep|SOMEONE'S GONNA GET THEIR HEAD PECKED IN TONIGHT!]]\n[[Keep running|A Deep Canyon]]
Since the world is round, you decide to go to the other side of the planet, which is as far away from Rampateuay as you can get. Not knowing if he’s moving around could mean that the distance isn’t as far as it could be, so you nail him to the floor. “Stay there!” you suggest, kindly - setting off for the other side of the world by walking in a straight line. \n\nStraight lines are not natural, and trying to go in one proves impossible due to the curvature of the planet. You’ll stop at nothing however, even if this means coercing Donald into building a sort of ramp out of rocks that levels out the planet’s curvature, ending in a sheer drop when he runs out of rocks. Standing on the very edge of this vertiginous ramp, peering down into the stars, you are faced with a choice. Will you [[keep going regardless|Space]], or, if leaping headlong into the void doesn't tickle your fancy, you decide to [[tickle it yourself|Fondant Fancies]].\n
To die, to sleep, \nTo sleep, perchance to Dream...\n\n<<display 'Start'>>
"Oh so it's forgiveness that you want, eh? eh?" says weirdo #1 \n\n"Pointing a piece of fruit at someone is a very serious matter, very serious indeed!" says weirdo #2 \n\n"Oh, so it's fruit that you want, is it? Is it?" says weirdo #1 \n\nWeirdo #3 falls off his donkey into the sea. \n\nWeirdo #2 takes out a magic wand and begins to wave it frantically as though it were stuck to his hand and he were trying to get rid of it. Suddenly it starts raining fruit. The floor is laden with apples and hard to walk on.* Will you \n\n(1) [[follow a path of bananas into the distance|You Disappear From Sight]]? (2) [[sail downstream in a hollowed out satsuma|Australia]]? /%(3) [[Threaten the three weirdos with a banana|Fully Loaded]]?%/\n\n *The sea having by this point been absorbed into the porous, sponge-like rock that makes up most of the terrain in this area. The several fishy characters that had been eating Donald are currently floundering about in the few remaining puddles of water whilst Donald busies himself in knitting a Little Bo Peep costume, complete with crook and stuffed sheep, for reasons that will become apparent later.
The psychiatrist calls himself Mr. Biglet and says that he is 434 years old. He examines the bump on top of your head for 3 1/2 hours before announcing 'You're mad!' and jumping out of the window.\n\nWill you:\n<<<\n#[[Follow him?|either("Some Page Or Other","A Pig Sty")]]\n#[[Take a look around Mr Biglet's office while he's out?|A Certified Shrink]]\n#[[Go for a bite to eat?|A Fish Supper]]\n<<<\n
Peering into the eyepiece you are rewarded with the sight of a beautiful garden, circumscribed by the wall you have been walking around for the past few days. \n\nThere is no sign of Donald through the periscope, but you do see a couple of buildings in the centre of the garden. One is low and rectangular a kind of gazebo, the other tall and conical, a sort of pagoda. \n\n[[Enter the rectangular building|Empty]].\n[[Enter the conical building|Hole]].\n
You are in a padded cell. It doesn't seem to have a door. A large clown with orange hair is trying to sell you a hamburger.\n<<<\n*[[Buy the hamburger|A Gold Key]]\n*[[Knock down the wall using the clown's head as a battering ram|Headbutt]]\n*[[Batter it down with the hamburger|Red Letter Day]]\n<<<\n
Carefully you lift the two ants from the tip of the cow's tongue. You thank the Cow of Honour and move over to a patch of light where you can see the ants a little better. They bow and introduce themselves. 'I am Paolo Pillow,' says one, while the other introduces himself as 'String-bean Smith.' \n\n 'So how come there are only two of you?' you ask. 'I though you ants normally hung out in groups of a million or so.' \n\n'One million ants for two behind the one who left the first hundred,' replies Paolo Pillow. 'Yes, for which there are but five hundred more per acre' chips in String-bean Smith. \n\nYou have no idea what the ants are talking about, so you say 'The Cow of Honour said you would show me the way.' \n\n'Yes, there it is,' says Paolo Pillow, pointing to a large pile of whey in the corner. You begin to curse the Cow of Honour, but then realise that she kept her word, and that it was your own stupidity that got you into this mess in the first place. \n\nWill you [[go back to the Cow of Honour and ask again|The Part Exchange Room]], this time trying to be a little more specific in your questions, or [[threaten to stamp on the ants|Crepe-soled Shoes]] unless they show you the way out of the Crazy Place? \n\n
You walk a little further along the path, only to find it blocked by a giant topiary tree in the shape of a bowler hat.\n\nThere is a sign winking at you, it says 'Keep off the grass.' You can't help thinking something is odd here, perhaps because neither does the sign have lights on it, nor have you read it yet. \n\nYou may either: \n<<<\n#[[Read the sign|Incorrect]],\n#[[Retrace your steps|Telephone]], or \n#[[Take a shortcut across the lawn|Engulfed by Rampant Turf]].\n<<<\n
You take hold of the boots and pull, fully expecting them to be attached to Donald's feet, but they are not. They are definitely Donald's boots, however, and since you haven't seen hide nor hair of the clown for some time, you decide to look for him. 'He must be around here somewhere...' you say to yourself, and looking around you can see two distinct trails of clues... \n\nWhich one will you follow; \n\n#[[A trail of hamburger crumbs|Donald Is Molested By A Giant Chicken]], or \n#[[A trail of webbed footprints|A Maze of Passages]]?\n
As you’re falling you look in your pinched fingertips, a tuft of his fur is between two fingers. You must have snatched them as you slid past.\n\nYou press the hairs to your chest and the flush of dopamine makes your death painless. At least he knew how you felt...\n\n''YOU ARE SPLATTED''!!
You climb onto Donald's back, and he launches himself head first down the slide. This plan succeeds perfectly well until you are about halfway down, when you become stuck. Donald's hair, it seems, has grown to such an extent in the last five minutes that it has become wedged between the sides of the helter-skelter. Will you [[attempt to climb back to the top|An Arduous Fourteen-Hour Climb]], or [[attempt to cut Donald's hair|A Sea of Orange]]?
The psychiatrist calls himself Mr. Biglet and says that he is 434 years old. \n\n"Tell me," he says kindly, "how long have you felt that you were, ahem, //not a moth?//"\n\n"Well, it all started when I was just a caterpillar..." you begin, but before you can finish, Mr. Biglet has thrown himself out of the window.\n\nWill you:\n<<<\n#[[Follow him?|Lunatic]]\n#[[Take a look around Mr Biglet's office while he's out?|A Certified Shrink]]\n<<<\n\n\n
You open the book at page one and begin to read:\n\n‘The elementary fundamentals of the project in question are greatly varying in scope and function.’ write Maurice Von MacRandolf and James G. G. Robinson-Bore. ‘It is vital that in seeing the underlying variation of viscosity, several important safety precautions are taken to ensure that the coefficient of viscosity and the average count from the radioactive preparation outline one way of detecting the rise of liquid in wedge-shaped gaps to ensure that the relation between the shear stress and the shear rate is conducive to non-Newtonian behaviour.\n\nMoreover, it is essential that, in intercepting the escape velocity of substances such as ketchup, custard, toothpaste, and starch, some several other rheological properties that relate stress and shear rate are taken into consideration.\n\nThese rheological factors, such as oscillatory shear or extensional flow, in addition to, or alternative to the centripetal force resultant of time-dependent viscosity is limited when operating with a constant coefficient and is better studied using tensor-valued constitutive equations.’\n\nYou are now up to your neck in porridgy paper-pulp, and sinking fast. Will you [[keep reading|It's Academic]], in the hope that the book will eventually come to a point, or, if you lack the ability to extract the important information from the academic jargon, you can [[throw the book away|The Book Absorbs the Excess Moisture]].\n
Not far along the passage to the north you find Donald sitting on the floor waiting for you. It seems he has decided to accompany you on your mission. It seems you don't have a lot of choice in the matter. Together you proceed along the passage until you arrive at a junction. \n\nA high wall is to the west. On the left of the passage is a mirror in the wall. To the east you can see a turning in the passage.\n\n[[Investigate the mirror|Double Trouble]] \n[[Sashay jauntily eastwards|A Rickety Looking Elevator]]\n[[Attempt in vain to climb the wall|Ladder]] (which is preposterously high and devoid of footholds)
The man from the shop gives you this 'skimpy' little number with which to wear, and you [[step into|Pitch Black]] the magic changing room before...?
You step through the door and into what seems to be a kind of indoor jungle. There are two clear paths through dense undergrowth. One leads north-east towards a clearing, where a group of cannibals are having each other for lunch. The other leads north-west towards another door. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n<<<\n1. [[Take the north-west path|YOU are the Main Course]], or \n2. [[Join the cannibals|A Mix-Up]] for a spot of light refreshment.\n<<<\n
"I thought it was a bunch of arse." you say.\n\n"Fair enough," says the punk. "We can't all be Bruce bleedin' Springsteen." He unties the ties that bind you. "Here, have you met [[Plugalug]] yet?"
You read the sign, which says:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">WARNING!<BR>THE INFORMATION ON THIS SIGN IS INCORRECT<br>By order of the Boss</div></center></html></div></center></html>\n<<display 'The Sheer Stupidity'>>
'Well, all this adventuring //has// given me the lean, sculpted body of a warrior. I guess I //could// stand to put on a few pounds...'\n\n'That's the spirit!' says the gym instructor. 'Now, stay right where you are. Don't move a muscle. Remember, exertion of any kind can burn precious calories, and we don't want that.' He goes away and comes back a moment later with a tea-trolley, laden with cakes and pastries.\n\nWhich 'exercise' will you begin with?\n\n* [[A forward Swiss roll|Massive Gains]]?\n* [[Caramel Crunches|Massive Gains]]?\n* [[Chocolate bar rows|Massive Gains]]?\n* [[Double Chin-Ups|Massive Gains]]?\n\n\n
'It's no use Donald,' you say, 'I've lost the will to go on' and you sit on the wet grass with your head in your hands, resigned at last to the fact that you will never escape from the Crazy Place. 'Is there no ray of hope in this world of darkness?' you shout at the sky. As if in answer to your prayers, there is a roar, a rumble of feet, and as you struggle to your feet a crowd of people rushes past, each with a look of rapture on their face! \n\n'Haven't you heard?' says one, stopping briefly to let you in on the big secret, as if it were too wonderful a thing to keep to himself. 'There's a two for one special on SUDSO at the Thrift-E-Mart!!' \n\n'Two for the price of one?' You say, 'that's incredible!' You drop to your knees and thank the powers that shape and influence this world, before joining the others in the great race, the great cycle, the great dance of life. Unfortunately you [[fall down a hole|Crumbs]] on the way to the Thrift-E-Mart, but somehow it doesn't matter.
You stumble off the conveyor belt. \n\nYou find yourself more or less back where you started. Walking in the other direction, you soon come to a junction in the passage. Donald leans nonchalantly against the wall, playing with a yo-yo. Will you take the [[north-west passage|An Ominous Grating Noise]], the [[south-east passage|The Elevator]], or [[attempt to scale the wall|Ladder]]?\n
Unfortunately, because your right foot is tied to your left hand, you are in no position to go around rescuing anybody else. Thankfully, rescue is at hand, in the unlikely form of a Punk Rocker, complete with Mohican haircut. \n\nThe Punk introduces himself as Juglugs. Before untying you he treats you to a rendition of his latest song, "Sitting on a Hedgehog". \n\n<center>Sitting on an eel\nWill make you squeal\nSitting on an owl\nWill make you howl\nSitting on a pigeon\nis my new religion but\n\nSitting on a hedgehog\nIT HURTS!\nSitting on a hedgehog\nIT HURTS!\nSitting on a hedgehog\nIT HURTS!\n\nLife's a lot like sitting on a hedgehog\n\nSitting on a donkey\nCos my legs are wonky\nSitting on a bear\nCos there ain't no chair\nSitting on a duck\nCos I don't give a monkey's but\n\nSitting on a hedgehog\nIT HURTS!\nSitting on a hedgehog\nIT HURTS!\nSitting on a hedgehog\nIT HURTS!\n\nLife's a lot like sitting on a hedgehog</center>\n\n"It's allegorical," he explains, "life can be a lot like sitting on a hedgehog, which is to say that it hurts like *£#@! sometimes. What did you think of the song?"\n\n[[It was really good]]\n[[It was terrible]]\n
You walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk [[etc|Back Where You Started]].
At the far end, the Grand Gallery opens out into a simply gigantic walk-in closet. <<display 'Closet'>>
and round and round and round and round and round and round and round...\n\n[[WAIT|YOU WAIT YET MORE]]......
'Sorry,' you say to the cow, 'can't stop. I'm looking for a coupon from a cornflakes packet, you see. My friend Donald destroyed the Universe and we're going to send away for a new one.' \n\n'I think your friend Donald has found it.' the cow says, and with that she floats away to pastures new. You turn around to see Donald, tearing the precious box-top into tiny little pieces. \n\n'That's it!' you scream, no longer able to contain you anger, 'That's the last straw!'\n\n<<display '1970s Sitcom'>>
Looking around, you decide that everyone else is having more fun than you are. It's time for the old Irish goodbye. Time to test out those [[wheeled feet|Marble Madness]].\n\n
Hesitantly you dip your fingers into the jar of marmalade. Immediately a clipped female voice emanates from the jar:\n\n"Please state destination."\n\nYou are taken aback, but only for a moment.\n\n"Out of the Crazy Place." you state clearly.\n\n"Don't you want to know who does my toenails?" says Rupert, the armadillo, still clinging to Satan's beard. You ignore him.\n\n"At the cave entrance, turn left." says the jar of marmalade. Without a moment's hesitation you scramble down from Satan's knee and run to the cave mouth. Outside, it is snowing gently. Donald is seated by a hole in the ice, angling with the rod from a magnetic fishing game. "Follow me!" you hiss.\n\n"At the first exit, turn left," says the marmalade satnav, "then turn right."\n\nFor hours you follow the instructions, never daring to take your fingers from the jar, until finally the satnav says\n\n"[[You have reached your destination|Early Dawn]]."
The enraged Atlas makes a misplaced attempt to bite your ankle but you are able to get away just in time. \n\n"Dude," he calls after you, "You are so going to regret this!" \n\nYou leave the padded cell by a door to the north, finding yourself in a room full of junk. As you do so you hear a sound from behind you, and turn around to see that Atlas is coming after you with an axe. You scan the room finding two possible hiding places. \n\nWhich will you choose? \n<<<\n#[[A battered old wardrobe|A Skunkskin Coat]]? \n#[[A gigantic pyramid constructed from dog food tins|Mummy!]]?\n<<<\n
Somebody taps you on the shoulder. It is Donald. He's hopping about excitedly and pointing in the direction you have just come. Apparently he has found some sort of secret door on the other side of the room.\n\nWhat would you like to do? \n<<<\ni. [[Investigate the secret door|NO RUNNING IN THE CORRIDOR]], or \nii. [[Go in the other direction.|A large wooden door]]\n<<<\n\n
"I've always wanted to be a star," you say once you are wearing the costume. You are launched into space where you spend the rest of your life twinkling in the sky at night. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
'Doctor, doctor! My baby's got no hair and no teeth!' screams the nanny. The witch doctor looks most concerned.\n\n'Dentures and a hairpiece are what this baby needs.' Nanny holds you up to the mirror so that you can admire your new look.\n\nRestored to your former glory, you decide to [[look for a way out of the woods|All Change]].
Congratulations! You have waterproof innards. Meanwhile however you can see several fishy characters eating Donald. But salvation is in sight, in the form of several weirdos riding turbo-powered donkeys. You try to get their attention by waving your arms and shouting. \n\nWhat will you shout?\n\n1. "[[Hands up this banana is loaded!]]"\n2. "[[Help! Several fishy characters are eating Donald!|Roil and Rage]]" \n3. "[[Gungplunkie]]!" \n
Donald decides to use it as a pincushion. He has a new box of pins, there are 100. In your delirium you imagine that you have been attacked by a mad acupuncturist. \n\nWill you \n<<<\n#[[Beg him to stop|Fair Swapmint]], or \n#[[Attempt to wrest the wretched thing from Donald's grip|Tug of Love]]?\n<<<\n
On your first throw of the die you roll a six and enter the library, where you find Professor Plum. <<set $autograph = "Professor Plum">>\n\nDo you \n<<<\n#[[Attack him with the lead piping|The Murderer Revealed]], or \n#[[Get his autograph|Two Giant Monsters]]?\n<<<\n
With Donald's help you clamber out of the brambles, but in the process your clothes are torn to shreds leaving you completely naked. \n\nDo you: \n<<<\na) [[Rejoice at having been relieved of the burden of clothing|Nude With Raised Eyebrows]],\niii) [[Say the magic password|Gungplunkie]] (but only if you know it - mind!)\n2) Blame Donald for your predicament and [[take out your frustration on him|The Sounds of Breathing in Pitch Darkness]]?\n<<<\n\n\n
I'm afraid I've no sympathy for you. If you want to complete a mission such as this then you really ought to equip yourself with all the necessary accoutrements before you begin. You'll just have to stay [[tied to the chair|A Fast Food Restaurant]].
One morning you wake up to find yourself covered in breadcrumb coating, suspended in a shrimping net above the deep fat fryer. You look down at the multitudes assembled on deck. For weeks the ship has been trawling the ocean bottom, having emptied the seas of all other life to join its burgeoning crew. No theory, whether plausible or incredible, could ever people those depths with beings stranger than the piscine elves and hobgoblins now crowding around the net, in eager anticipation of a fried breakfast. Here stands an apparently headless, multispined orange amphipod, there a scarlet Nematocarcinus with fantastically long, shadow-thin legs. The bosun, tottering about on his tail fin, leans in close until you can see the black veins in his yellow, cat-like eyes. Towering above them all is the octopus, two tentacles on the wheel, two more brandishing lethally sharp, wooden chip forks. All eyes are trained hungrily on you.\n\n'Do you know, Donald,' you sneer, in a sarcastic, nasal parody of your own voice, 'after a long day's adventuring, there's nothing I crave more than a fish supper.'\n\nThe crew laugh, and laugh, and [[lower the net|Up Here All The Fish Is Happy]].
You open the door and step into what turns out to be a tiny broom cupboard. \n\n'Shut the door, it's freezing in here!' says Donald, in the universal language of mime. Without thinking you do so, only to discover that the door can only be opened from the outside. You are doomed to remain here forever with only Donald for company. ''FIN.''
Ow! You shouldn't have done that because... \n\nSurprise! I am count Donkeyla, the evil blood sucking vampire donkey. I have now sucked all the blood from you and you are now just a completely useless piece of skin. \n\nIf you would like to carry on like that, [[choose option "1"|You Must Be Mad]]. If you'd rather start all over again, [[choose option "2"|Yet Another Padded Cell]].
You are almost dead... But wait! There may still be a chance...\n\nTest your luck! Roll one die - \n\n(a) if it lands on a 1, a 2 or a 3 you are lucky enough to [[find a pin and POP the pop stars|You've Upset The Fans]]. \n(B) If not, tough luck. [[YOU ARE SPLATTED|Bad Choices]]. \n\n
'Help!' Comes the cry from behind the door. You step forward to investigate, pausing momentarily to examine your shoulder which was totally dislocated in the fall.\n\n<<display 'The Bad Luck Room'>>
Suddenly and without warning, great volumes of paper arrive out of a crack in the wall engulfing the performers and the audience. Flushed with relief, you turn and run as fast as your legs will carry you. The cries of the baffled warriors echo across the gully while diminishing and bending away on the furthest horizon. <<display 'A Darkened Cave Filled With Paper'>>
LEST WE FORGET\nGentle Geoffrey\n55-413\n\nHaving traversed the cavern you find yourselves in a small antechamber lit by flickering torches. The only other exit is a door marked “Staff Only”.\n\n'I wonder what the monster was protecting?' you say to Donald. Donald shrugs. 'Perhaps we'll find the answer through here.'\n\nYou [[try the handle|Staff Only]].
You mumble something about a freaked clown but it doesn't seem to be convincing. The three people then mumble something about killing you and you panic. Do you [[make a break for the door|Three Demented Washing Machines]]? [[Drop the clothes and make a break for the door|Pell-Mell]]? [[Drop the clothes and apologise|Puddle]]?
The two guards are taken aback. Flustered, befuddled, fazed. They look to one another for inspiration, but find none. They scratch their heads. They shuffle their feet. Clearly you have deviated from the script, and these two were not constructed for improvisation.\n\nYou wait patiently until finally the guard on the left grunts, 'On your way.'\n\nTrying not to smirk, you [[head back the way you came|Forbidden Practices]].
"I'm very sorry if we upset you P-ter, but if there's anything we can do..."\n\n"Anything you can do?" rages P-ter, "well for a start you can stop hyphenating my name! And don't tell ME that you'll do 'anything' to help. If I said I want you to play me a song using a cow as a tambourine, you wouldn't be able to, would you? IDIOTS!"\n\n"Well, [[as it happens|As It Happens]]..." says Donald...
You are about to go in that direction, when something catches your eye. Something big and round and white and luminous, and oh, so beautiful! Spreading your wings wide, you flutter with all your might - towards the moon! Donald manages to grab one of your legs but he is powerless to stop you. The urge is too strong - too irresistible! \n\nBut no matter how hard you fly, the moon is always just beyond your reach. Three days later, you drop down, exhausted, to your final resting place in the dusty corner of some window-sill. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *'' \n
You sprinkle the contents of the bag across the surface of the water and begin to walk across the carpet of breadcrumbs towards the opposite shore. This plan succeeds perfectly well until you are about two thirds of the way across, when a flock of ducks appear out of nowhere and begin to eat the breadcrumbs! 'Panhandlers!' you cry as your impromptu bridge disappears from under you. The last things you hear are the ducks' quacks of laughter as the current sucks you under. ''FIN.''<<set $inventory.splice($inventory.indexOf("A large bag of breadcrumb coating"), 1)>>
Unfortunately you have run out of glue. It would seem that there is a hole in the tube and that it has run all over your feet, glueing them to the floor. \n\nYour shoes are now stuck firmly to the floor. This is not the best of situations to be in, but looking on the positive side, there are two things you can do: \n\n#[[Jump up and see if your shoes will come unstuck|Ten Million]], or \n#[[Take off your shoes and continue your adventure without them|Electrified Floor]]...\n
You turn rapidly to the page on 'How to escape from the Crazy Place', but to your surprise it has been covered in orange crayon scrawl, and now reads\n\n'If you want to escape from the Crazy Place, you must give Donald your lifetime's supply of liquorice allsorts.'\n\nYou have a sneaking feeling that Donald has deliberately altered the text. The fact that there is an orange crayon sticking out of his waistcoat pocket lends weight to this suspicion. \n\nYour face pales. Blue veins stand out like whipcords on your forehead and begin to throb. Your nostrils flare out like trombones. You remember the canon:\n\n'When angry, count to ten. If very angry, count to a hundred..."\n\n[[You don't even get as far as three|A Gangly Man]].
You turn around and try to push your way back through the folds of cloth, but quickly become lost within a labyrinth of linen. Panicking, you claw at the sheets and [[wrench them away to reveal|Washerette]]...
Perhaps you'd understand it better if you read it through again.\n\n<<display 'Start'>>
Discarding your useless notes and the ludicrous diagram, you determine to continue your lecture from memory. You close your eyes and calling to mind visions of Otto von Bismark, The Peace of Utrecht and the Enclosure Act 1845, begin:\n\n<center>'Mary had a little ham,\nHis fleece was made of jerky,\nAnd everywhere that Mary went,\nThey thought she was a turkey.\n\nWith a gobble gobble here and a gobble gobble there\nHere a gobble, there a gobble, everywhere a gobble gobble\n\nWith a ham ham here and a ham ham there\nHere a ham, there a ham, everywhere a ham ham'</center>\n\nDonald, who has changed into a Little Bo Peep costume, is attempting to sing along using completely different lyrics. It doesn't help.\n\n'What's wrong with me,' you think to yourself 'I've got ham on the brain. Ham on the brain. Ham on the ham on the ham on the brain...'\n\nThe ostrich people have by now risen to a standing position, and many have begun clawing the ground with their feet, a sure sign of arousal. You have lost your audience - they're bored, angry and looking for someone to blame. Someone's gonna get their head pecked in tonight...\n\n'Donald,' you say, 'when I say run, run. [[Run!|either("Mirrors","Ham")]]'
You run frantically around and around the pyramid, with Atlas in hot pursuit, looking for a way in. Just as you are about to give up hope, there is a loud explosion. As the smoke clears you see that Donald, dressed in pith helmet and khaki shorts, has dynamited the pyramid. Together you dash into the dark opening in its side, replacing the dog food tins as you go to prevent Atlas following. When your eyes grow accustomed to the darkness you find yourself in a large room with some sort of comic strip scrawled on the wall. In the middle of the room, lying on a large stone slab, is a person wrapped in enough bandages to keep a pack of hyperactive Brownies happy for a month. <<set $inventory.push("A fondue set")>>\n\nChoose: \n<<<\n1. [[If you wish to unwrap this person|A Muffled Groan]], \nB) [[To read the comic strip|You Translate the Heiroglyphics]]. \n<<<\n\n
Uncle and Aunty look momentarily confused. They talk privately for a few moments before replying 'Okay, but only if you give us the book first.' \n\nWill you \n<<<\n(1) [[give them the book|Reluctance]], or\n(2) [[refuse|A Large Blue and Orange Vase]]?\n<<<\n
'Right, we'll be off then,' you say sheepishly, staring at your feet, 'hope everything works out for the best.'\n\n'Oh, thank you //very// much!' says the gnome still struggling against the ants, 'Next time you're lost in a forest, having, in your rage, destroyed the only means of your salvation, don't come crying to me!'\n\nYou give the gnome a feeble wave as he is carried off into the distance. Feeling a shade guilty, you wander [[back to the Cow of Honour|The Part Exchange Room]].\n\n
You pull the plastic buffalo hump from your carrier bag. You can't remember where you picked the thing up. Perhaps it was during your adventure with the 77 dwarves and the electric rotavator. At any rate, regardless of what it was originally designed for, it makes a perfect coracle, and after clambering inside, you gently paddle yourself ashore.\n\nBrushing away the sticky paper residue from your clothes, you survey your surroundings. You seem to have wandered into a narrow gully that goes on for some distance. You decide to see [[what lies at the far end|A Darkened Cave Filled With Paper]].
It is dark inside the box and somewhat cramped. \n\n'Is there anybody here?' you shout.\n\n'NOnonononono.' comes the reply.\n\nYou're alone, alone, all, all alone. No Donald, no Boss, no Jellybean People, just you and your [[delightfully foggy thoughts|You'll Like This]].
You cannot go through this door, so you do. You see five boxes of cabbages. \n\nDo you:- \n\n#[[Eat one of the cabbages|Brassic Atac]], or \n#[[walk casually out of the door|Bad Luck]]?
You barge through the door to the lavatory, ignoring the sign which reads\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">TOILETS RESERVED FOR<br>PAYING CUSTOMERS<br>ONLY!<br>By Order Of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nand find yourself in a tiled corridor. You follow it for several miles, expecting at any moment to come upon a door with 'ladies' or 'gentlemen' emblazoned upon it, but no such aperture presents itself. Eventually, in desperation, you clamp your knees together and attempt a sort of shuffling run, in direct contravention of the signs posted along the corridor which read\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">NO RUNNING\nIN THE CORRIDOR<br>By order of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nEventually, the [[end of the corridor|CAUTION FLOOR WET]] looms into sight.\n
With an extreme effort of concentration you force down the Bargatuan burger - it really is quite horrid - and allow yourself to forget the events of the past few minutes, hours, days...\n\nIt's a dream, you tell yourself, only a dream. And it's fading now. Fading away. It's only a memory without anywhere to stay.\n\nGradually the events of your life begin to unravel, and <<display 'Seven Months'>>
You take a running jump and hurl yourself over the wall. With a gasp of horror you realise that the pigsty is situated on the 84th floor. There is little you can do to prevent yourself from plummeting towards a grisly death. Choose: \n<<<\n#[[If you wish to do little.|In a Flap]]\n<<<\n
It doesn't last. Before very long your delightfully foggy thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a whining voice from outside the box.\n\n'Ladies and gentleman! Inside this perfectly ordinary box is a perfectly ordinary specimen of the human species, which I shall now endeavour to saw in half using this perfectly ordinary saw, purchased this morning at a perfectly ordinary hardware store! You'll like this - not a lot, but you'll like it!'\n\nYou have a funny feeling that you're not going to like this at all. Not a lot. Not even a little bit.\n\nWill you [[fling open the lid and jump out|Donald Has Disappeared]], or [[wait to see what happens|Surprise Surprise]]?
'Oh yes,' says the guard on the left, 'and how would you know that, exactly, if you hadn't read the sign?'\n\n'Someone's been telling fibs or falsehoods.' says the guard on the right to the guard on the left.\n\n'I think you //have// read the sign,' says the guard on the left, 'and since you have read the sign, then you'll know that it gives very a clear and unambiguous instruction not to do so.'\n\n'An instruction which you have deliberately disregarded, which makes you a malefactor or miscreant.'\n\nYou and Donald are strong-armed into a sort of electric car, and taken through miles of twisting tunnels to [[THE MINIMUM SECURITY WING]]. \n\n
You dart into the room and instinctively hide in one of the suits of armour. It is the special lightweight model made of fiberglass, and the inside is padded with foam rubber and velvet for maximum comfort. Unlike most suits of armour it is easy to put on in a hurry as each part attaches with Velcro. Other features include built-in air conditioning, entertainment system, and most revolutionary of all flexible joints that allow Knights to flee from the enemy at record speeds. This is especially useful since the armour offers no protection whatsoever, being neither sword-proof, arrow-proof, bullet-proof nor even sink-plunger-proof. To your dismay, it isn't Egyptian mummy-proof either. With a sharp kick in the rear end of the suit (smashing one of the tail-lights) you are sent flying through the roof of the armoury and [[into the sky|An Ear-Piercing Scream]].
Unfortunately as you make your way over to the door you slip on a patch of water and knock yourself unconscious. When you wake up you find yourself in a familiar environment, but you seem to have [[lost your memory|Start]].
Well, that's just tough. It serves you right for making such bad choices. Remember kids, attacking pop stars with folding chairs is not only dangerous but very silly and possibly immoral. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *'' \n \n\n
'Oh really,' says the guard on the left, 'you didn't feel like it, didn't you?'\n\n'These signs are put up to instruct and inform,' says the guard on the right, 'not to disdain or disregard.'\n\n'I suggest you read it right away. Or there'll be trouble.'\n\nWhat will you do?\n\n[[Read the sign aloud|Malefactor]], or \n[[say 'I can't read'|Illiterati]].\n\n
'Now listen, P-ter,' you begin, 'We need to talk about your negative attitude.'\n\n'Oh, we do, do we?' says P-ter. 'WHAT MAKES YOU SO HIGH AND MIGHTY?' To your horror, P-ter's whiny voice is joined by a chorus of others, as his friends L-vis, O-tis and T-na muscle in on the conversation. Together they spell P-L-O-T.\n\n'SHOW SOME RESPECT!' shrills T-na.\n\n'All I'm askin' is for a little respect,' moans O-Tis, 'MAN, YOU GOTTA TAKE HEED!'\n\n'We're doin' the best, the best we can, but it's not good enough for YOU!' croons L-vis.
'Those confusing directions you gave me landed us in the Bad Luck Room,' you complain. 'It took me a whole month to grow a new set of teeth.'\n\n'Revolve, and be content,' says Plugalug, and he goes into reverse, spinning his arms anticlockwise at incredible speed and undoing the past as he does so. Unfortunately he gets a little carried away, and within seconds everything that has happened to you since the age of seven months has been erased from history. You wake up to find that Teddy has fallen out of the pram again.\n\nWill you:\n\n[[Scream|Nappy]] because your nappy needs changing,\n[[Scream|The Pale Cast of Panic]] because your teeth are coming through, or\n[[Scream|The Last Tiny Morsels of Squirreldom]] because Teddy has fallen out of the pram again?
You have been locked by the Boss in the HIGH SECURITY WING of the Crazy Place, from which none have ever escaped! \n\nWill you \n\n1. [[Try to dig your way out using the plastic spade that Aunty Bernard gave you for your fourth birthday|A Circular Room]], or \n2. [[Ask Donald's advice|The Boss is Arrested]]??
Just out of curiosity, you step into the Indian restaurant. It's the usual sort of affair, flock wallpaper, Bollywood music and animated waterfall pictures. Seated around every table are severely decapitated people. Suddenly you remember that you haven't eaten during the whole of the story and decide to order.\n\nYou call over the waiter, who looks not dissimilar to a deathwatch Beatle. On checking out the menu you decide to order curried deathwatch Beatle. The waiter suddenly loses his smile and goes reluctantly into the kitchen. The man from the shop reappears with your order.\n\n[[Eat your order]]\n[[Go with the man from the shop]]
As you push open the door of the restaurant you are suddenly aware of a pressing need to use the lavatory.\n\nYou stand transfixed in the doorway, unable to decide whether to [[accede to the demands of your bladder|Paying Customers Only]], or [[satisfy your grumbling stomach|Squidgyburger]].\n\nWhile you are standing there, letting all the cold air in, you are suddenly aware of yet another acute physical need, this one entirely new to you, which manifests itself as a sort of restless tingling sensation above the ears. Tired of being outvoiced by needy stomach and whiny bladder, your auriculares muscles have joined in the hubbub, insisting that you [[waggle your ears|You Waggle Your Ears]]. AT ONCE.
The cat is just about to pounce by the time you reach 30. You jump up and run for your life. After scampering along numerous tunnels and successfully completing numerous scientific experiments you eventually lose the cat, and stop to catch your breath. It is then that you remember the stick of dynamite you ate yesterday. It explodes. You have failed to escape from the maze. [[FIN]].\n\nP.S. The cat was just in your imagination. So was the dynamite.
You jump off the top of the wall (on the same side that you started out on!) and proceed to plummet. It is rather further down than you remember, and though it took you just two days to climb to the top of the wall, it <<display 'Balloon'>>
Unfortunately when you open the door to retrieve the clothes you discover that they have all been turned a uniform shade of pink. You are racking your brains for the reason why when along comes Donald to retrieve his new red socks from the pile. When the three people wearing towels return they are not amused. \n\n[[Give them back their clothes]]\n[[Make a break for the door|Three Demented Washing Machines]]\n
You rush to the door and fling it open. A short man in a loud, but shabby suit is standing on the other side, his knuckles raised as if about to knock. In his other hand he carries a large battered suitcase. He looks up in surprise, his weary face a map of well-travelled roads.\n\n'I don't suppose you'd like to buy a vacuum cleaner, would ya?' he says. But before you can reply he turns around and begins to shuffle away. 'No, I didn't suppose you did. Sorry to have troubled you.'\n\n[[Run after him|Sales Pitch]]\n[[Head straight for the Bargain Basement|Under New Management]]
Eventually you emerge from the tunnel to find yourself in a broad concourse. Crouching low and staying near to the wall, you grope your way towards a door. What secrets await yourself and Donald? Which one will dare approach the opening door?*\n\nWill it be \n\n\t1. [[YOU|A broom cupboard]], or \n\t2. [[DONALD|A long wait]] ??? \n\n(If nothing in this book so far has made the slightest bit of sense to you, [[click here|Read It Again]].)\n\n*Editor's note: Part of this passage was copied off the back of a cereal packet.
Finding a Scalextric in your Bejam plastic carrier bag of rubbish, you set it up thinking that a game of slot cars will make your final hours more interesting. It takes ages to set up the crash barriers, chicane and track extensions, but unfortunately when you turn it on the moisture in the paper pulp causes the set to short-circuit. The resulting fire causes the water to evaporate in a great cloud of steam and you are left, miraculously unharmed in a waist-deep pit of ash.\n\nBrushing the ash from your clothes, you stand up and survey your surroundings. You seem to have wandered into a narrow gully that goes on for some distance. You decide to see [[what lies at the far end|A Darkened Cave Filled With Paper]].
Having heard nothing from outside for quite a while, you decide the danger has passed and slip out of the wardrobe. To your surprise it seems the wardrobe has been moved while you were in there, and you find yourself, appropriately enough, in the Furnishing Department. Apart from the wardrobe, it contains a comfortable looking armchair, a four-poster bed and a smoked glass coffee table. In one corner is a rickety old elevator allowing access to the other departments. \n\n[[Try the armchair]],\n[[Test the bed|Magic Fingers]], or\n[[Call the lift]].\n\n
SNAP! \n\n ''* * * You are , quite literally, splatted! * * *'' \n\n\n
‘I told you! I told you! Didn't I tell you?’ says Rampateuay, pelting you with small stones. ‘Falling rocks!’\n\nWhen you manage to dodge the small rocks he hurls down at you, the old man finds a much larger boulder. Bracing his back against the rockface and placing both feet against it, he sends it hurtling down the mountainside towards you.\n\n‘Beware! Take care!’ shouts Rampateuay. This one will be much harder to avoid. You may either [[jump to the left]], [[step smartly to the right|A Deep Canyon]], or [[duck back into the cave mouth|Blocked In]].
With catlike reflexes, you leap up and tie the cravat around the monster's neck. However, in the days since you acquired the magical artefact, the boy-band JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!! have taken to wearing cravats, turning them overnight into a must-have item. Instead of killing the monster, the cravat makes it look rather jaunty. You must fight!\n\nMONSTER:\n\nSTRENGTH: 31,510\nSTAMINA: 26,400\nJAUNTINESS: 1,297,23\n\nYOU:\n\nSTRENGTH: 3\nSTAMINA: 4\nJAUNTINESS: 0\n\n[[YOU WIN THE BATTLE|Victory]]\n[[YOU LOSE THE BATTLE|You Are Dead]]\n
You plead with Donald to give the doll back, but he refuses to part with it unless you give him something of equal value in exchange. Then you remember that you have a box of dog biscuits in the pocket of your sporran. Donald seems quite happy to make the swap, but later you find that he has handed you a penguin instead. \n\n"My hot water bottle has gone cold!" cries the beast, waving the offending article in your face. This in itself is not particularly surprising, since, as you now notice for the first time, you are standing on a small island in the middle of an ice flow. The frosty atmosphere between yourself and Donald has plunged the world the world into a new ice age.\n\nWhat would you like to do? \n<<<\n#[[Take pity on the bird|Advice from a Penguin]], or \n#[[Ignore it and fight Donald for the Voodoo doll|Tug of Love]]?\n<<<\n
Unwilling to go back the way you came, you push forward through the racks of clothing, always expecting to find the hard melamine back of the closet against the tips of your fingers.\n\n'I always forget just how big my closet is' you say, going still further in and pushing the glossy fabric of your Nylon party frocks aside to make room for yourself.\n\nAnd then you notice that there is a light ahead of you. Not a few inches away where the back of the closet ought to have been, but a long way off at the end of a narrow gully.\n\n<<display 'A Darkened Cave Filled With Paper'>>
The Cow in question has legs like gigantic black and white pillars that reach up into the stratosphere. Donald begins to shin up the nearest one with idea of tying some little silver bells to the cow's udders.\n\n"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Donald!" You say.\n\n"Oh, that's right," whines P-ter. "no idea is ever good enough for you, is it? I DON'T SEE YOU DOING ANYTHING CONSTRUCTIVE!"\n\nFrom up on high there is sonorous 'MU!' that causes the ground to shudder. Will you [[climb up and investigate|The Ill Health Gym]], or stay below and try to [[placate P-ter|Negative Attitude]]?
Roll a die. If it comes up 1, 2, or 4 [[you survive the treatment|Sticking Plasters]]. If it comes up 5, 6 or 7, you are not so lucky. [[The Celestial Escalator]] appears to convey your soul to eternal rest.
Towards the far end, the gully narrows and becomes a wind tunnel. The wind whips up ticker tape from the floor into great balls some fifteen feet in diameter which roll along at tremendous speed. In your haste to escape you trip and become entangled in a mass of paper which begins to gather momentum... \n\nYou are carried along at an astonishing rate for what seems like hours, until at last the dizzying motion stops and you find yourself in a darkened cave filled with paper. As your eyes become accustomed to the darkness, you are able to make out the shape of two boots sticking out of the rubbish. \n\n#[[Try them for size|Boots]], or \n#[[Ignore them and try to find an exit|A Narrow Ledge]]?
It takes more than a million of these large ants to carry the fat gnome. Never the most athletic of creatures, the gnome nevertheless struggles valiantly, but with minute adjustments and the careful manoeuvring of legions of insects, they manage to keep him under control as they carry him nearer and nearer their goal. Unhesitatingly you rush to his aid.\n\n'Careful!' chirps String-bean Smith, 'If they catch you, the ants will miniaturise you, brainwash you and force you to work in the sugar mines!'\n\nYou take hold of the gnome's enormous pointed boots and pull. They come off in your hands. The terrible smell causes the ants to scatter, abandoning the gnome where he lies. [[Unfortunately it causes you to pass out|Tied to a Chair]].
You walk a little way down the cave, and in the distance you can see light shining from the entrance. The cave mouth opens out onto a mountainside ledge offering breathtaking views of nothing in particular. \n\nA reedy voice shrills, ‘beware!’ but despite the warning, when a lithe figure springs out from behind a rock, you almost jump out of your skin and off the cliff. You only just manage to regain your footing.\n\n‘Who the hell are you?’ you demand of the stranger, a wiry old man scantily clad in a few rags of rotting animal skin.\n\n‘I am called Rampateauay of the hills, the all-knowing seer!’ says the man, hopping from one foot to the other. His sinewy, nut-brown body seems almost spring-loaded. ‘What is your name?’ He asks. You tell him your name. ‘I knew that!’ he replies. ‘Tell me now, what is your telephone number?’ You tell him your telephone number. ‘I knew that too! I knew it already, before you told me! I know all!’\n\n‘What do you want?’ you say irritably. The man’s ceaseless motion is making you nervous.\n\n‘I have come to warn you, to tell you - beware! Beware of...’ he looks around him for inspiration, eventually settling on ‘falling rocks!’ With that he hops further up the mountainside, limber and surefooted as a mountain goat, and from this higher vantage point [[begins hurling rocks at you|Avalanche]].\n
'I had a pink bathroom at the time,' you explain wretchedly, but it is no use. You are the laughing stock everywhere you go. After just ten minutes of wearing the pink clothes, you drop down dead of acute embarrassment.\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
Washed away by the dull, workaday drudgery of workaday tidal waves, you are carried along a succession of pipes and conduits until you emerge, gasping, in a 10,000 gallon overflow tank.\n\n<<display 'A Small Puddle of Water'>>
You’re unconscious. Free from having everyday input from your body, y’know - the usual messages from your skin of temperature, orientation, elevation & which limbs are currently inside-out or not, or your eyes feeding pictures to your mind - you’re left alone in the silence. Imagining you’re breathing deeply and calmly you pretend you’re in an isolation tank. \n\nWith no input to interpret your mind starts to wonder what might be happening to your body on the outside of it. \n\nAre you OK? Being carried out of the bar perhaps... are you even wearing shoes still? Why does that matter now and what the hell is that smell?\n\nAfter several minutes of thinking about this Donald comes by to ask for some change for the electric meter as he can’t see anything. \n\nOh. No. Please. NO. NO NO NO NO NO\n\nYou are trapped in your own subconsciousness with Donald. He is poking you with a stick that’s got leaves on it. They crunch into your ears, or at least where your ears would be if you had any, which you don't, because you're a disembodied consciousness that's currently unconscious. \n\nDO YOU: \na)[[Tell him to get out of your mind|A Revolving Door]],\nb)[[Go out of your mind and back into the Crazy Place|Out Of Your Mind]],\nOR\nc)[[PANIC]]?
You don the wig, and attend the party. Everybody comments on your sense of stye, but you can't shake the feeling that they are laughing at you behind your back. Feeling self conscious you quickly retire to the kitchen, where all the other deadbeats, losers and wallflowers are assembled. The door falls off the refrigerator. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n#[[Drown your sorrows in a bottle of beer|Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer]], \n#[[Repair the fridge|3x12 Self-Tapping Screw]], \n#[[Throw away the wig and go back into the party|You Cast Down The Hairpiece]]... \n\n
Having wandered down this passage for a quarter of a mile or so, and having found no trace of the Golden Book of So-and-So, you give up, and with a petulant pout, fold your arms and await your punishment. \n\nIf you do not know what fate will befall you, you must [[listen to what is told in the next chapter|A Handsome Set of Matching Luggage]]...
You toss the book away in exasperation. The heavy academic tome absorbs the excess moisture in the paper pulp, solidifying it and allowing you to wriggle free.\n\nBrushing away the sticky paper residue from your clothes, you survey your surroundings. You seem to have wandered into a narrow gully that goes on for some distance. You decide to see [[what lies at the far end|A Darkened Cave Filled With Paper]].
We regret to inform you that this page has been cancelled due to an industrial dispute. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible. We apologise for any inconvenience caused.\n\n[[Normal service will be resumed in the next chapter...|A Fat Gnome]]
You look around the room for someone to pick a fight with. Mysteriously no-one seems keen; within minutes all the partygoers have either left or are huddled together in the corners of the room, sucking their thumbs. Some of them are sucking each others' thumbs. You decide to try your luck in [[the room next door|Combat Without Weapons or Ballet Rambo]].
Coming out of the daze you come to - taking in your surroundings...\n\nYou are no longer in a bar - you have no shoes that are made of snakes. You have no shoes. You have some shoes...\n\nYour shoes flit in and out of existence for a while before stabilizing their framerate with your reality. They’re nice shoes - dancing shoes. You do a little dance as an experiment.\n<<<\nYou put your left leg in.\nYou put your left leg out.\nIn.\nOut.\nIn.\nOut.\nYou shake it all about.\nYou do the Hokey Cokey and you turn around...\n<<<\nAnd the world instantly focuses. You are in a bar, buzzing neon sign flashing \n<<<\nCoors, Coors, Coors...\n<<<\n'"Course you'll help me out, won't you old chap?" The fat gnome is staring in a forlorn way at the door to the right of the \n<<<\nbuzz, buzz, buzz.\n<<<\nIt is just wide enough for him to shimmy his head through. \n\nDo you \n\n#[[Run through the door shouting wild cult like chants|The Bowery]] OR Do you \n#[[Search for a chainsaw to widen the doorway|The Whole World Reduced To Splinters]]? \n
You set about your task, only to find a moment later that you are trying to milk an alarm clock. And just when you are beginning to think that you've finally lost your marbles, the alarm clock starts talking to you. \n\n'It is not yet time for you to milk the Cow of Honour,' says the clock, which is wearing a hamburger as a hat, 'first you must find the corners of the circular room.' \n\n'But all I really want to do is to escape from the Crazy Place!' you sigh, dropping to your knees in exasperation. \n\n'You can X-it whenever you want' replies the clock, 'but first things first, second things second, third things third, fourth things fourth, fifth things fnord...'\n\n'Wait, you said fifth things fnord!' says you. \n\n'I think you must be mistook,' the clock replies, 'there's no such word as fnord.'\n\nCHOOSE:\n<<<\n#<<if $inventory.indexOf("A large treasure chest") != -1>>[[If you have found the corners of the circular room|Unlocked]]<<else>>[[If you have met Plugalug before|Around and Around]]<<endif>>\n#[[If not|Plugalug]].\n<<<\n
Oh dear, you didn't really think about that did you? Your wish is granted, and the room is filled with custard. Only trouble is, you are now unsure of where the door is, and even if you did know, you are still tied to the chair. Being as how the custard level is way up over your head, you are also drowning horribly. \n\n'Mggt gmmf schlmmt rfft.' You say.\n\nThen you die. Famous last words if ever I heard them! [[FIN]].
Stepping into the wardrobe you shut the door firmly behind you. It is dark. Fumbling around you find what your nose suggests might be a skunkskin coat. \n\n[[Try it on|A Repellent Quality]]\n[[Search the pockets for useful items|A Mint with a Hole?]]
'Glad to have you on board, Geoffrey,' you say, suddenly coming on like an employer addressing a successful job applicant. 'I'm sure you'll be a valuable member of the team. What is it those musketeer fellows say?' \n\n'One for all…' says Geoffrey, saluting. \n\n'…And all for what?' you reply, with an air of resignation. 'Now how do we get out of here?' \n\nMoving over to the filing cabinet, still sitting forgotten in the corner, Geoffrey pushes it to one side revealing a hidden passage behind. \n\n'Ah, so that's how The Boss got out,' you say. 'I'm glad to see there's some semblance of continuity in this story.'\n\nTogether you proceed along a musty corridor that has obviously not been used for years. The walls of the corridor are black, but decorated with a pattern of luminous stars. Towards the end the passage widens out and you find yourselves at the entrance to a huge stone chamber. Crumbling stonework and grotesque gargoyles line the walls, and looking down you see that you are ankle deep in what appears to be mouldy semolina… \n\n'What a disgusting place!' you say, wading deeper into the semolina. On the other side of the chamber is the entrance to another passage, and you are just wondering whether it will be possible to wade across when there is a sudden movement in the semolina.\n \nA huge and terrifying monster rears its ugly head above the putrid dessert food. It has the head of a vulture, the eyes of a crab, the body of a flounder and the legs of a spider! And that's just its lunch; you should see what the monster looks like! <<set $geoffrey = true>>\n\nChoose: \n\n#[[If you want to turn back|Dilemma!]], or \n#[[If you don't|You Hide Under The Circumstances]].
Donald decides to do nothing of the sort. Instead, he seats himself upon a tussock and pulls off his bulbous red boots and stripy stockings. Wiggling his fourteen tiny toes*, he stands and dances a jig in the long grass, enjoying the freshness of the dew beneath his naked feet.\n\nHe reseats himself and produces a toenail clipper from the front pocket of his dungarees. As he clips, he flings the multicoloured clippings hither and thither, without regard to where they land, reflecting as he does that, when you come right down to it, there isn’t an awful lot in this world that really matters.\n\nHis task completed, Donald returns the toenail clippers to his pocket and retrieves from it a Squidgyburger, wrapped in greaseproof paper. This he munches in silence, and sucking the sauce from his fingers and thumbs, settles back against the tussock for [[a nap|Rescue]].\n\n * Donald has seven toes on each foot, each toenail painted a different colour of the rainbow.\n
'Around and around,' says Plugalug, reeling like a whirling dervish, spinning in swoops and rolls. The steel arms of the churning contraption throw hearts and minds for a loop. 'For life is time and time is life and forever is a lifetime.'\n\nChoose:\n\na) If you'd like to tell Plugalug about your recent adventures\nii) [[If the 'phone rings|A Telephone Call]]\n<<if visited("Ants to a Cheese Doodle")>>3)[[To complain about the bad advice he gave you last time you met|Bad Advice]].<<endif>>\n\n<<if visited("First Things First")>>\s\nAlternatively you may ask [[Plugalug how to find the corners of the circular room|The Right Angle]].\n<<endif>>\s\n\n
Donald is not concentrating. He drives straight into the end of a tank cannon. It is narrow, so the car gets slightly squashed. Suddenly Donald sees something out of a Mr. Men book and he starts to be sick. You recognise some of the contents of the green, pink and purple slime. It is carrying your toothbrush, the Boss's hat, the fat gnome's moustache, the fat gnome, a fresh bale of hay and a smoked-glass coffee table. You may put these items in your extra deep pockets in case they should prove useful later in your adventure. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n\t1. Follow the trail of sick downstream, or \n\t2. [[Search the tank for carpet cleaners]]?
You start to yank the planks from the bottom of the boat causing it to fill with water very rapidly. You time yourselves sinking and beat the world record, reaching the bottom of the sea in just 2.45 seconds. A familiar looking mermaid in a bowler hat appears with your award. After several hours swimming you arrive at a small desert island and crawling onto the beach you start looking around for a cabinet to store your trophy. There are none to be seen, but you do come across a chest of drawers.\n\nDo you: \n<<<\na) [[Climb into it|The Sock Drawer]], \nb) [[Launch it and sail away|9.73 Seconds]], or \nc) [[Do 20 circuits of the island singing 'Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag'|'X' Marks The Spot!]]?\n<<<\n
'Hands up, this banana is loaded!' you shout, this time brandishing an actual banana instead of an imaginary one. The weirdos' reaction is immediate and dramatic.\n\nWeirdo #1 begins to shriek like a baboon. \n\nWeirdo #2 bursts into tears.\n\nWeirdo #3 stands with his knees close together, trembling violently, a yellow puddle spreading at his feet.\n\n"Please don't kill us," says weirdo #2. "We're too important to die!"\n\n"Yes, that's right," says weirdo #3. "Without us there'd be no, no, no, no, no. No universe to live in or fruit to eat."\n\n"Oh, so it's fruit that you want, is it? Is it?" says weirdo #1.\n\n"Wait," you say, lowering your weapon. "What do you mean, 'too important to die'? Who are you, exactly?"\n\n"We're the Cosmic Order," says weirdo #2. "an ancient order set up aeons ago...."\n\n"I am known as the infamous Blue Apostle. This here," indicating weirdo #2, "is the dewy-eyed Professornaut, whilst the third of our number goes by the name of the revolting She-monkey."\n\nA bandy-legged ape-woman with yellow fangs and wearing a pair of cerise jeggings.\n\n\n\n\n
After several minutes of trudging happily through the snow, pausing now and then to throw a snowball or two, you arrive safely at the North Pole. \n\nWill you [[stick a flag into the snow|Pipped to the Pole]] to prove that you were the first to arrive, or [[check out the local wildlife|The Dreaded Abominable Polar Penguin]]?
The Yogi overhears your mantra, and so pleased is he with your transmogrification that he awards you with the title of 'Poker-Faced Arhat', whilst Donald, forgiven for his apple-scrumping incident, is appointed to be a Buddha, with the title 'Buddha Open 24 Hours'. Though somewhat peeved at Donald's superior rank, you nevertheless bow respectfully before the Yogi and step forward to receive your instructions. \n\nAnd if you do not know what the Yogi's instructions were, you must [[read what is told in the next chapter|The Yogi's Challenge]].\n\n
'My goodness,' says the angel 'is Paradise really that boring?' \n\n'Obviously somebody thought that listening to other peoples' life stories would be an interesting and stimulating way to spend eternity.' you reply. 'It isn't.' \n\nThere is a sensation of rushing wind, and you are reborn as Bernard Manning. \n\n[[Tell a joke|No Joke]]\n[[Get plastic surgery|Plastic Surgery]]
The old lady gives you a map. This may be of use to you.\n\nTurn to [[973]]
'Poor chap, must be the lack of oxygen.' says the fat gnome. Picking you up and tucking you into his breast pocket, he squeezes himself uncomfortably through the tiny doorway and barricades the door behind him. He then begins the slow descent of the staircase, while you, in the comfort of the warm jacket pocket, drift off into a deep and dreamless sleep. \n\nWhen you awake you find yourself, still in the pocket of the fat gnome's jacket, now discarded on the top of a pile of dirty washing in the laundry. There are a lot of clothes hanging on a washing line here. \n\nIf you wish you can [[take the clothes|Three People Wearing Towels]], or you might prefer to [[take a closer look at the washing machines|Trapped in a washing machine!]]. On the other hand if you've been here before you might have had [[quite enough of laundrys|The Cow of Honour]].\n
When the dust clears you find yourselves sitting on the top of a huge pile of sand, in a circular room with three doors. The room is illuminated by a single shaft of light from the hole far above you. From nowhere, a deep booming voiceover explains 'Behind one of these doors is a clue to escape! But choose carefully... The door on the left has dangers behind, far greater than those behind the door on the left of the door on the right.' \n\n<<display 'Which door will you choose?'>>\nAlternatively, you may [[try to find the corners of the circular room]].
You and Donald enter the funny little house and mount the stairs. There is a queer-shaped room there, very cosy indeed, filled with a sweet aroma. An extremely fat gnome sits cross-legged on the floor, inhaling deeply on a chocolate cigarello.\n\nThe gnome looks up, startled, as you violate his sanctuary. 'Sorry old chap, didn't see you there. How can I help you?' he says.\n\n'I don't know,' you say, 'perhaps to transcend the impermanence of our being and escape the endless cycle of life and death?'\n\nThe fat gnome looks at you knowingly, nods and says 'would you care to join me in smoking this chocolate? It will take you far away from this crazy place to a land far superior...'\n\nDo you want to [[join him for a smoke|The Hours Drag]],\nOr [[decline the offer|Beddy Byes]].
Irritably you slam the tank into reverse gear and floor the accelerator. Unfortunately you didn't check in your rear view mirror and the vehicle slams into the tank behind. You are booked for dangerous driving and forced to re-take your driving test.\n\n[[The phone rings|Booked for a Driving Lesson]].\n\n
'What time is it?' asks the old man as you approach, and having recently been informed, you tell him. 'I knew that!' he says and bursts into gales of laughter. \n\nWill you: \n<<<\n#[[Introduce yourself|A Warning]], or \n#[[Continue walking along the path|Up the Garden Path]]?\n<<<\n
Desperately you run through your repetoire of bird impressions, ninety-two in number:\n\n*capercaillie\n*lammergeyer\n*cassowary\n*accentor\n*dotterel\n*goosander\n*bobolink\n*garganey...\n\nBut none of them seem to have any effect, until you reach seagull, when at last your cry is echoed from the sky above. You crane your neck to see that you have attracted an entire flock, and when the flock espies the piscine crew standing exposed and vulnerable upon the deck, carnage ensues.\n\nFor months the fish have been dredging every sort of marine life from the ocean, to serve as part of the crew. Practically every fish in the seven seas is now flopping about on the deck of the //Milky Way//. Most have long since forgotten how to breathe under water.\n\nThe sea-birds can't believe their luck.\n\nA third of the fish fish throw themselves overboard, and are drowned. The rest are torn asunder by the razor-sharp beaks of the ravenous sea-birds, or else gobbled down whole.\n\nWhilst all of this is going on, two very special gulls swoop silently down, take the corners of the shrimping net in their clawed feet and bear it aloft, with you still inside. These gulls are not like the others. They are as pure as starlight, with a soft, friendly glow.\n\n"We've come to take you higher, Jonathan!" cry the gulls. "We've come to [[take you home|Mr Livingstone, We Presume]]!"
You step over the bodies. Gnawing a hole in the cereal packet with your sharp, rodent-like incisors, you find yourself at the junction of two passages. One, to the [[north-east|Helter Skelter]], looks vaguely familiar. From the other, to the [[south-west|An Underground River]], you can hear the babbling of running water.\n\nI hope you didn't cheat during any of those battles.
The ostrich people prepare for the bout by clearing away the trees and rolling out a circle of turf. Donald trots into the ring wearing the costume of a luchador, cape, spotted tights and a colourful mask bearing the stylised likeness of his own face. You decide to make do with a borrowed tutu and a stocking mask. <<display 'The Sounds of Breathing in Pitch Darkness'>>
Somebody must have pulled the plug. You find yourself lying at the bottom of the tank in a small puddle of water. Donald lies in a wet heap at your side, looking most unwell.\n\n[[Try to revive the clown]]\n[[Look for a way out of the tank]]
Perhaps you'd understand it better if you read it through again.\n\n<<display 'Donald Is Molested By A Giant Chicken'>>
It is warm and cosy in the sock drawer, and before very long you have drifted off to sleep. You dream that you are eating fillet of sock served in a rich creamy sauce. <<display 'Tied to a Chair'>>
You begin to load the sugar cubes into the mine car. When you've done two or three Clarence begins to help you, as he always does, the old softy.\n\n<<display 'Norman the Foreman'>>\n\n
At the end of the corridor is another sign. \n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">CAUTION FLOOR WET<br>BY ORDER OF THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nBut the warning comes too late and you slip and slide and pile right into it. The sign revolves revealing it to be the entrance to a SECRET PASSAGE. \n\nOn the other side you can go \n<<<\na) [[East|Helter Skelter]], or \nii. [[West|A Ghastlorrible Smell]]\n<<<\n
“And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes this afternoon’s lecture. Does anyone have any questions?”\n\nThe ostrich people shuffle their feet, stare absently into space or attempt to bury their heads in the sand. To your relief, nobody seems to want to ask a question. Afterwards you realise that this is because the ostrich is a notoriously stupid bird, having a brain smaller than either of its eyeballs. Even if the ostrich people had been able to understand your presentation, none of them would have been able to admit it without revealing that they were not, in fact, a real ostrich. What curious lives they must lead, running around in orange tights, pretending to be dumber than a box of rocks. You almost feel envious.\n\nThere is one exception though. The next day, [[Osvult manages to catch you|Walter Wongleplock]] when no-one else is looking.\n
For days you drive happily along in the tank, blowing holes in every tree, rock, mansion, hovel and home you find along the way. You and Donald take turns driving and manning the rotating gun turret. It's fun. You can see why military strategists enjoy these armoured vehicles so much, there's something about being both totally invulnerable and armed to the teeth that is just so satisfying. \n\nEventually however your progress is arrested by a crowd of people waving white flags.\n\n'Oh, how tiresome,' you say, 'conscientious objectors, or such. I can't see what in the world there is to object to in being blown to smithereens, I'm certain it's just as much fun for them as it is for us.' Donald shrugs.\n\nIt's your turn in the driving seat. Will you [[throw the tank into reverse|Dangerous Driving]], or [[roll right over them|Jiminy Insect!]]?\n\n\n
Fortunately you fall is broken by the ground along with most of your bones. Donald lands on a mattress two inches to your left. [[Click here|Doorway]]
Proceeding along this passage, which would seem to have been hewn from the rock by some desperate person using only their fingernails, you come eventually to a very dark room. There is an ominous grating noise coming from somewhere, but you can't see well enough to determine the cause. Fortunately someone hands you a gaslighter. On lighting the lighter you are mildly perturbed to observe that the walls are closing in. \n\nWill you: \n<<<\na) [[PANIC]] \nb) [[Relax with a cigar|A HORRIBLE SQUELCH]]...\n<<<
You decide to try the 'Venus de Milo', a fad dance craze that's been sweeping the nation for twelve and a half minutes. It involves standing perfectly still on the dancefloor, the only reasonable response to the cacophony of conflicting musical styles you're subjected to. It's a real test of your core strength - the slightest movement would ruin the whole thing. Unfortunately your right leg loses control and attempts to dance, causing you to fall over. \n\n'Must be these new disco catsuit,' you say to yourself, noticing for the first time that your feet are wheeled. \n\nYou attempt to get up again, with exactly the same results, except that this time you are knocked asleep. When you regain consciousness you are mercifully wearing different trousers*, but unhappily you have also lost your memory. 'Lawks a mercy,' you exclaim, 'I can't even remember what [[time|Read My Hands, The Alarm Clock Said]] it is...'\n\n*Crimson satin breeches, with a silver-fringed - (appendage to them which I dare not translate).
Unable to stand your relentless bawling, Donald abandons you in the forest and wanders off, leaving you to be raised by squirrels. Twenty-six years later you are happily hopping from branch to branch, oblivious to the fact that, unlike your closest friends and adoptive relations, you are not of the family Sciuridae.\n\nFrom the forest floor below you hear footsteps, and looking down from your leafy bower you spy seven stranded maidens, skipping through the woods whilst buttering crumpets. Though you lack the language to express them, horrible, repressed memories rise unbidden in your squirrelly mind...\n\nWill you [[pelt the maidens with nuts|Crumpet]], or [[scurry up the tree to the safety of the higher branches|When The Bough Breaks]]?\n
When the lift doors open you can scarcely give credence to your ocular apparatus. Spread before you is an unbroken vista of trees, topped off with a lid of cerulean blue.\n\n"We've done it!" you say to Donald, hugging the clown rather more tightly than you intended to, "We've escaped from the Crazy Place!" But something doesn't quite feel right about this sylvan setting. Perhaps it's that the birdsong is on a loop. Or that the soft summer breeze smells of glue.\n\nOn closer inspection, it's clear that this forest is phony. The trees are all made from cardboard tubes, the sky an expanse of azurean Artex, bedangled with cotton-wool clouds. A squirrel, peering out from its arboreal attic, turns out to have been knitted - poorly. It doesn't even have the right number of legs.\n\nOn the forest floor (brown painted floorboards strewn with paper leaves), a path can be seen picked out in magnolia. A little way ahead the path splits.\n\n[[Take the right hand fork|The Right Hand Fork]]\n[[Take the left hand fork|The Left Hand Fork]]\n[[Head back to the lift|Flamenco Dancers]]
It’s 11:59pm. At midnight your time, tickets go on sale for the JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!! tour. You’ve been mashing the refresh button for a minute now when suddenly the ‘TICKETS GO ON SALE AT NOON’ animated gif of your One True Love stroking a kitten changes to TICKETS NOW ON SALE!\n\nYou immediately click the link and it changes to SORRY, THIS EVENT IS SOLD OUT. \nTICKETS ARE ALSO AVAILABLE FOR “TRAGEDY” - AN ALL-METAL TRIBUTE TO THE BEE GEES. \n\nYou buy tickets to see Tragedy anyway, since why not - you’d gone to the effort of memorising your parents’ address and have their credit card to hand also.\n\nYou *are* JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!’s biggest fan!\nYou’ll do anything to get to that rock-concert. \n\nSetting off with only a flannel knapsack and a stick, you head to London, Ontario. \nYou hitch some of the way, a radio crackles some tracks by the Boogaas at you as you pass through dusty Californian scrubland. \n\nYour ride is passing a sign saying “FREE! Rock Concert: This Way” with a censored photo of the Boogaas’ lead-singer on it.\n\nYou think "HRM [[I secretly like the Boogaas|A Fat Gnome]] more than I like JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!..."\n\nBut no, that thought is washed away in a coiffured mop of hormones - [[you are truly I am JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!’s biggest fan.|I am JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!’s biggest fan]].\n\n\n
Of course most of these medicines haven't been tested, says the witch doctor, but they're all quite safe ——— as I will now demonstrate. He takes a large bottle of blue liquid from a shelf on the far wall and examines the label. He raises an eyebrow and says ——— can't read a word of it ——— and takes a huge swig from it, and drops dead.\n\nYou seek a second opinion from another doctor who tells you that your stressful lifestyle is to blame for you ill health. <<display 'A Career in Teaching'>>\n
You hurl the hamburger at the wall with main, might and extra mustard. It flies straight out of the window. I never suggested that the cell didn't have any windows.\n\nDonald steps in through the opening carrying a large pane of glass. "The thing about window shopping", he says, "is you don't half get some funny looks from the shopkeepers."\n\n"How DARE you say that!" comes a voice from the corner of the room. Looking around, the only thing you can see is a small, red, rubbery looking letter P, like those you would see on children's educational shows. Baffled, you stutter "I...er...", but barely get your words out before the letter P lets out an angry torrent of abuse. "YOU HEARD ME! NOW WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?"\n\nEventually Donald informs you that this is P-ter, and that he is one of those p-ple who gets upset about absolutely EVERYTHING. Will you:\n\n<<\na) [[Placate P-ter|I'll Do Anything]]\nb) [[Jump out of the window|Off You Go]]\n<<\n
Singling the Donald-bean out from the other beans, you manage to chase him back into the jellybeaneriser. Unfortunately you are now in there with him, and a moment or so later you find yourself standing a mere half-inch high, bright yellow and with a very strong compulsion to sing and play all day. You are suddenly aware of the huge orange-haired clown staring hungrily down at you, and in another moment you are wrestling to free yourself from his fingers as they carry you inexorably towards his gaping jaws. 'Donald, no!' You cry in a tiny voice 'Can't you see - it's me!' But it is too late...\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
What do you mean you 'don't know'? This is a multiple choice examination! The only sure-fire way to fail it is to tick the boxes marked 'don't know'!\n\nAt a meeting of the school governors it is decided that the best thing for you is to repeat your entire education. You are sent back to kindergarten.
"Hey, dude, get down and groove!" says the Blue Custard Groover. "Play me your name." You haven't the slightest idea what he's saying to you, so you sit down and leave Donald to do the talking.\n\n<<display 'All Outa Beat'>>
What knowledge do you seek?\n\n*[[How to escape from the Crazy Place?|Scribble]]\n*[[How to boil an egg?|The Perfect Boiled Egg]]
When the lead singer got braces, you got braces also!! \n\nOH EM GEE. \nYou didn’t even need braces.\n\n[[JEEEEZ MOM, I STILL HAVE LIVER AND KIDNEYS|You still have your liver and kidneys]]
Upon leaving the lift you are confronted with three doors. From nowhere, a deep booming voiceover explains 'Behind one of these doors is a clue to escape! But choose carefully… The door on the left has dangers behind, far greater than those behind the door on the left of the door on the right.'\n\n<<display 'Which door will you choose?'>>
You attempt to do this, but the burger sticks to the wall and refuses to come off. The clown insists upon trying to sell you another one.\n\n[[Buy the hamburger|Donald McRonald]]\n[[Knock down the wall using the clown's head as a battering ram|A Laundry]]
Donald declares a truce. He offers to make you your own table and chairs by way of an apology for his annoying habits. You are very surprised to see him working very hard for the next few hours from a book entitled "How to Make Furniture". However, you notice later that he had his finger over the word "rubbish" and feel quite insulted that he is making you stuff not fit for a 1970s sitcom. \n\nDo you want to \n<<<\n#[[Apprehend Donald about it|Serious Looks Are Exchanged]], or \n#[[Go back to start of the book|Start]] and try to get through it without ever encountering the damn clown.\n<<<\n
Suspecting that the poolside bar was too good to be true, you head back to find Donald, last seen having a heated argument with you, and you find him calmly waiting under a chocolate tree. He has decided to offer an olive branch.\n\n<<display 'A Party Trick'>>
"Ow! Ow! Ow!"5 say the Flamenco dancers, who seem to have turned the pain you are inflicting on them into a rather appalling novelty song and trying to come up with a dance routine for it. You are bewildered and aghast but secretly, you suspect that this has HIT written all over it. You repulse yourself by actually joining them.\n\nEventually, they let you [[back into the lift|Call the lift]].
You shoulder your way along a very narrow passage that seems to have been made out of layers of papier-mâché, painted to look like sandstone. Dim, but colourful illumination is provided by strings of fairy-lights stuck to the walls and ceiling with packing tape. Eventually you come to a side passage running off to the left. A sign pointing in that direction says:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">← FREE! Rock Concert: This Way.</div></center></html>\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n\t1. [[Follow the sign|Cancelled]]? \n\t2. [[Keep walking East along the passage|Where the sun goes before it rises]]? \n\t3. [[Proceed in a contrary-wise direction|Fissure]]?
As you read the words, a shadow falls across them. You turn around to see a tall dark figure, dressed in a too-small pinstripe suit, with newspaper wings stapled to his sleeves and a cardboard beak strapped to his face. Will you [[try to duck beneath his outstretched arms|PECK! PECK!]], or [[jump out of the nest|Four Hours Later]]...? \n\n
Suddenly there is a screaming of sirens, and you find yourself surrounded by truncheon waving policemen.\n \n'I don't know what it is you're trying to do,' says one, 'but whatever it is, it's probably illegal.'\n \n'It's no use,' says another, 'you might as well give yourself up. We have you surrounded.'\n\n'Yes I know,' you reply 'it says so in the previous paragraph.' \n\n'You are under no obligation to say anything,' says a third policeman, 'but whatever you do say will be taken down and cleverly re-interpreted as a confession by our highly trained police semanticists.' \n\nWith a wave of his magic truncheon, the first policeman says the magic words "Evening all!" and you disappear in a puff of self-raising carpet shampoo.\n\n<<display 'The High Security Wing'>>\n
The Cow has laddered her stockings, so rather than shin up the leg like Donald, you climb the ladder. "It's the worst ladder in the WORLD!" complains P-ter. Ignoring him, you climb and climb, up and up, up and up even more up until you reach a door. Gingerly, you push it open to see state of the art gym equipment everywhere. There are many people in there too, but they are all just lying around, eating bags of chips, scratching their backsides and watching television. Confused, you approach someone who us wearing a kind of official looking uniform.\n\n'Um...what's going on?', you enquire.\n\n'THIS, my friend', comes the reply, 'is the ill health gym. None of that super fit nonsense for MY clients. We're out of shape and we're gonna keep it that way. Now, let's set your personal targets shall we? Looking at you, I'd say you could do with gaining around 40 stone. Let's start you off with 12 packets of popcorn while you watch the 12 disc box set of 'Gloop'.'\n\n'Gloop?', you say.\n\n'Gloop', he says.\n\n'But...but..,how much did all this advanced technology cost you?', you enquire.\n\n'Best part of a million', he replies.\n\n'But...isn't that a...waste of money, if you're not using it?', you ask.\n\nA look of horror crosses his face. 'I...I never thought of that', he says, and falls at your knees, saying 'I'm a TERRIBLE businessman', almost in tears.\n\n'Yes, you are! And you've COMPLETELY WASTED OUR TIME' says P-ter.\n\nDo you A) [[Take P-ter to one side for a quiet word|A Quiet Word]], B) [[Go ahead with your unfitness program|No Pain No Gain]], or C) [[Do the Macarena]], inexplicably?
You awake to find yourselves adrift at sea, the balloon having suffered a slow puncture. 'What happened?' you scream, grabbing Donald by the lapels and shaking him. He smiles and shows you the pin he was hiding behind his back.\n\n<<display 'Wet Feet'>>\n
You swipe an apple from a fruitbowl, glaring at the purple-faced pleasants who’ve turned in anticipation of something other than yelling about the weather, you’ll show them how to throw.\n\nBack at Susie you see her glamour in the Wang, anger and frustration rise in you - how dare she! Deciding on a shot-across-the-bows, you hurl the apple at her just as she tosses another olive up in the air. \n\nThe flora collide, knocking the olive from its mouth-borne trajectory and into a just-prepared Martini over at the furthest bar. It receives a patter of applause from the buyer ‘Oh! Very good, Very Good’ yelled seductively to the barman, tipping him handsomely for the trick.\nHe’s quite an attractive man - lovely long eyelashes, flared nostrils and well groomed humps that are stylishly decorated with a red fez on each peak. \n\nYou’re reminded vaguely of a Turkish strip-club, but not entirely sure why.\n\n* [[Talk to him|Koosh]]\n* [[Go left to the buffet|Bargatuan Burgers]]
"Don't forget to write!" cackles the little old lady as you clamber out of the bowl.\n\nYou find yourself at the foot of a mountain. There are two passages leading into the mountainside. The one on the right is little more than a [[narrow burrow|At the Mountains of Madness]], dark and forbidding, rank with the fetor of damp and decay...\n\nThe other is a [[grand gallery|Luxury Tunnel]], impossibly luxurious. The walls, built from the finest Beluga caviar, are decorated with the taxidermy heads of French aristocrats. The fan-vaulted ceiling is covered in a fresco by Michelangelo depicting the life of Kim Kardashian, esquisitely vandalised in gold leaf by Banksie. The floor is made from thousands of Christian Louboutins, carpeted in sumptuous mink.\n\nWhich tunnel will you take?
Wrong answer. You are [[dead|To Sleep Perchance To Dream]].
Bereft of your vehicle, you have no choice but to continue your journey on foot. When you have been wandering along the cliff top for as long as one can reasonably be expected to, you come across a tree with a door in its trunk. You turn the door handle, and the door swings open to reveal a spiral staircase descending into the gloom… 'I wonder where it leads,' you say 'come on, Donald, let's find out!' Donald however complains that his legs are tired and tells you that he has decided to take the lift. 'The lift?' you say 'Don't be ridiculous!' but sure enough, there is another tree with a lift instead of stairs. \n\n[[Join Donald in the lift|Call the lift]]\n[[Take the stairs|You Descend The Stairs]]\n
When you reach the top of the wall you pause to wait for Donald with the idea of using the ladder to get down the other side. But it seems that Donald has wandered off taking the ladder with him, leaving you stranded on top of the wall. \n\nYou have no choice but to jump off, the only question being, on which side?\n\n[[The right hand side|A Passing Hot Air Balloon]]\n[[The left hand side]]
/% Place your story's setup code in this passage.\nAny macros in this passage will be run before the Start passage (or any passage you wish to Test Play) is run. %/\n\n<<set $carrying={}>><<set $inventory to []>>\n
‘It is vital that in seeing the strain rate tensors under many different flow conditions, many salt solutions and molten precautions are taken to ensure that the properties of proportionality are dependent on shear rate or shear rate history’\n\n'What does that even mean?' you ask yourself in exasperation, but it's academic really, because by now you're in over your head.\n\n''You are dead.''
'It's nice of you to offer,' you say, 'but I'm afraid I'm feeling rather tired.'\n\n'Look,' says the gnome, 'here's a hot cup of cocoa and a biscuit. We'll each have one and then if you can squeeze into my tiny bed, you can sleep with me tonight.'\n\nYou, Donald and the fat gnome have your cups of cocoa and a chocolate biscuit each. Then you squash into the fat gnome's tiny, soft bed, put your arms round one another to stop yourselves from rolling out, and [[fall fast asleep|Trapped]].
A man hits your hooter, then your speaker, then your ugly bonker! He says "Oh, sorry, you're not Clive." But you're already dead!
Eagerly you open the box, but you are disappointed to find that it contains nothing more than a pair of nail clippers and a picture postcard of the Taj Mahal. Not knowing what possible use they could be to you in your attempt to escape, you nevertheless stash them away in the Bejam carrier bag in which you have been storing the other objects you have found on your travels.\n\n[[Having had quite enough of this floor, you head back to the elevator.|Call the lift]]\n
On your way back to the Cow of Honour, an arm grabs you from one of the rooms along the corridor and and drags you inside. \n\n'What am I bid for this fine beast?' asks a disembodied voice. You look around to see a huge computer with mechanical arms. One arm wields an auctioneer's gavel. The other is still wrapped around your neck. \n\n'A crowd of peanuts!' shouts an unkempt man in his late twenties. \n\n'Two hundred and fifty pounds' screams a ridiculously ugly woman at the front of the crowd. \n\n'A copy of Twinkle, the comic for little girls' pipes a timid little man who looks like a mole. \n\n'Sold to the timid man who looks like a mole for a copy of Twinkle, the comic for little girls.' The auctioneer brings the gavel down with a crash. The mole man then gives you the copy of Twinkle and takes both of your shoes. \n\n'What's going on?' you ask finally. \n\n'This is the part exchange room,' replies the auctioneer. 'You've been part exchanged.' \n\nWill you [[wait to see what happens|The Cow of Destiny]], or [[leave the part exchange room|A Legally Binding Document]] as quickly as possible?
'Oh, how irritating!' you say, trying ineffectually to shoo them away, but Donald is exultant. These, he claims, are his lost sheep, the ones that he's been looking for all day. You can't remember him doing anything of the sort, unless you count the moment at breakfast when he briefly glanced under a slice of ham.\n\nAt any rate, with his Little Bo Peep costume he certainly looks the part of a shepherdess, and his command of the animals is exemplary. Within minutes he has them dancing a waltz, and you have to admit the effect is quite enchanting. However, the time has come to be moving on.\n\n'Come on Donald,' you say, 'it's time we were making tracks.' But Donald refuses to go anywhere unless he can take the sheep with him. His entreaties are all the more persuasive for the fact that, decked out in a pink crinoline frock and black patent leather Victorian high-heeled boots, he is serving up one hundred percent nursery rhyme realness.\n\nWill you [[allow Donald to keep the animals|Donald is Victorious]], or [[insist that he leave them behind|Impass]]?
Now, you know in cartoons, where they step out into mid-air and start attempting to walk for a few seconds before plummeting speedily to the ground? Well, that doesn't happen in real life. No Sirree. Well, ok, the PLUMMETING still happens...\n\nAre you going to [[try to grab hold of the speccy nerd who put you in this predicament, attempting to use his head to break your fall|Splat]]\n\nor\n\n[[Just accept this as your destiny|Destiny]]\n\nor\n\n[[Attempt, by way of acupuncture, to turn yourself into a cartoon character|Acupuncture]], thereby ensuring that despite the heavy landing in which you are knocked into a square shape, you recover fully within 48 hours and decide to place the pursuit of roadrunners high on your list of priorities?
You race around the corner, dropping to your knees in supplication. In doing so you lose control and slide along the linoleum, knocking the old fella clean off his feet. The suitcase flies out of his hand and bursts open, revealing a set of encyclopedias.\n\n'Jeez,' says the salesman, 'It's been so long since I sold anything I forgot what I had in there.' You help the old guy to his feet.\n\n'You know, it's funny,' you reply 'I can't even remember why I needed a vacuum cleaner.'\n\n'Well I guess there's a lesson in there,' says the old man, straightening his hat. 'Don't waste your life running other people's errands. So long kid.' He shambles away. At the end of the corridor he stops and turns around. 'Say, I don't suppose you want to buy a set of encyclopedias? Aw, no - of course you don't - forget it!'\n\nYou watch his retreating back until he disappears from sight, and then <<if visited("Yet More Stuff To Read With No Choices At The End")>>[[head back the way you came|Return of the Golden Book of So-and-So!]]<<else>>[[head back the way you came|A Short Corridor]]<<endif>>
You head West. <<display 'The North Pole'>>
Sadly the Devil reaches into his Hannah Montana rucksack and pulls out a Scalextric and a scroll of My Little Pony parchment on which are inscribed the deeds to his eternal soul. You add these items to the sad little Bejam carrier bag in which you store all the rubbish you pick up on your travels.\n\nThen you step out into the snow, feeling quite pleased with yourself. Donald is seated by a hole in the ice, angling with the rod from a magnetic fishing game. Apparently nothing is biting today.<<set $inventory.push("Satan's eternal soul")>><<set $inventory.push("A Scalextric")>>\n\n* [[“Shame, I just fancied a fish supper.”|A Fish Supper]]\n* [[“Never mind, let’s go check out the local wildlife.”|The Dreaded Abominable Polar Penguin]]\n
Passage not found.\n\n[[Proceed to the next chapter|The Afterlife]].
Fortunately for you the gym owner comes back in his personal trainer kit.\n\n'Come on, you lot! Those pounds won't put themselves on! Remember - no pain, no gain - and by pain I mean pain au chocolat' he says, forcing one into your mouth.\n\n*P-ter is subjected to a strict diet of lager and crisps.\n*L-vis is force-fed a small mountain of fried banana and peanut butter topped hamburgers.\n*O-tis is coerced into eating twelve boxes of Dunkin' Donuts, which for him is tantamount to cannibalism.\n*T-na is tied to a couch with a gigantic bowl of pasta and a box set of 'Gloop'.\n\nGradually the beer bellies begin to bulge, chins exponentialise and hips begin to get hippier.\n\nThe P-L-O-T thickens.\n\nWill you use this opportunity to [[make your escape|Pillars]] while you still can, or [[go ahead with your unfitness program|No Pain No Gain]]?
Would you tilt your head a little to the side please ————— says the witch doctor ————— that's better ————— my, what curious bumps you have ————— what do they mean, you ask ————— they mean you should learn to duck when you pass under low doorways, replies the witch doctor. ————— What is your diagnosis, you ask ————— whereupon the witch doctor replies ————— you are possessed by an evil spirit. Nurse, pass the drill —————\n\nWill you [[wait to see what happens]], or [[leave hurriedly|Halfway to the Door]]?
You turn the dial on the machine and watch as the clothes begin to go round...\n\n[[WAIT|YOU WAIT]]\n
Susie Susie. Whatever happened to Susie. She used to be your favourite acquaintance until so recently. Susie and her airborne olive-tricks! How dare she woo your date in that manner. \n\nShe’s still not seen you, still making eye contact with the fat Gnome.\nYou grab a handful of olives from a large bowl on the nearest table and throw them high in the air, hoping to catch his periphery.\nLooking up, mouth agape, the olives rain on you - tumbling and bouncing off your face and shoulders, rolling herby oils through your hair and streaking your zebra-catsuit on their way to the floor. \n\nShe didn’t see and not one went in. \nThis, you decide, is a sign. \n\nStriding towards the two lovebirds you consider what to say and do. [[To fight, you suppose|Oh! The Patinados]].\n\n\n
As you lean over the pool to take a drink, you lose your balance and fall into the swirling waters.\n\n'This is almost as good as a jacuzzi!' you say to yourself as you are sucked under the surface, but suddenly you lose control and vanish into a whirlpool.\n\n<<display 'Go with the man from the shop'>>
You find yourself in the place where the sun goes before it rises. A small man is standing on his head in the middle of the floor. \n\n"Dude!" he says as you pass by, "Wait up, dude!" \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n\t1. [[Stop and ask him what he is doing|Atlas]], or \n\t2. [[Leave the room by a door to the north.|Rampateuay Returns]]\n\n
Fishing around in your pocket for change you find a key. It’s gold and quite heavy. Since you don't have any change on you, you offer the clown the key in exchange for the hamburger. \n\nDonald shrugs. In the universal language of mime, he explains that he doesn't have much use for a key in a room with no doors.\n\nYou put the key back in your pocket and slump to the floor, despairing. It’s squishy and soft and you sink deeply into the padding until the soft pleats of the cell fold over you into complete darkness...\n\nYou push your arms out into the cloth - expecting to asphyxiate. Yet the cloth resists gently, like pushing against sheets of linen merely hanging on a line. \n\nA few centimeters in you feel something through the cloth that's round and cold like metal. It is metal and it fits your hand like a doorknob. Gripping it through the folds of the padding you give it a twist... as the door-jamb is revealed a flood of light spills in through the cloth, diffused by the cotton, hazy and white. \n\nAir breezes in also; chilly, fresh through the padding - which seems very thin indeed. Perhaps you can tear it apart and get out, leave the clown behind.... \n\nDo you :\nA) [[Tear the cloth and escape|A Cornfield]]?\nOR\n2) [[Try and climb back up to the Clown and bring him down with you|A Labyrinth of Linen]]? \n
You are halfway to the door when the witch doctor says ————— We needn't try such drastic measures if you don't want ————— and he offers you three alternatives:\n\n<<display 'The List of Remedies'>>\n\nIf you'd still prefer to leave, you may [[attempt to do so|Scream]].
Taking a pair of Austrian scissors to the back pages, you cut out the ticket and grin broadly.\n\nYou're going to a JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!! concert, you can barely contain your excitement. \n\nInfact, you can't contain it at all and it runs off!\nYou chase it a short way, but feeling more and more morose as it gets further away so you sit down and sulk. \n\nDonald wanders past, pulling behind him a wheeled case.\n"Ah, there you are." you mime, perking up a little - but not excitedly - of course. \n\n"Can you help me find my excitement?"\n\nDonald wordlessly tips the case back and opens it up, polystyrene foam biscuits fall out of it. Reaching in he pulls out your excitement! \n\nYou grab it and stuff it back where it fell from, wondering briefly how it got in the suitcase. Best not ask. \n\nLet's find out [[How To Get To The Concert]]. You hope it's at Wembley Arena because there's a great chippy just down the road.\n\n
The bed is quite comfortable, and since there is no-one around, you decide to take this opportunity to get a few hours shut-eye. Unfortunately, Donald has noticed that the bed is equipped with 'Magic Fingers' and activates the mechanism. \n\nChoose: \n<<<\n#[[If you are prone to motion sickness|Nausea]]\n#[[If you are lulled to sleep by the gentle vibrations|Fire! Fire!]]\n<<<\n
You sprinkle the breadcrumb coating over the soggy mush that surrounds you. It absorbs the excess moisture in the paper pulp, solidifying it and allowing you to wriggle free.<<set $inventory.splice($inventory.indexOf("A large bag of breadcrumb coating"), 1)>>\n\nBrushing away the sticky paper residue from your clothes, you survey your surroundings. You seem to have wandered into a narrow gully that goes on for some distance. You decide to see [[what lies at the far end|A Darkened Cave Filled With Paper]].
THE MINIMUM SECURITY WING is a special part of the Crazy Place designed for those who've done something only a little bit naughty. The cell door is wide open, and there's no guard on duty, but to prevent people escaping a large sign has been erected:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">DO NOT LEAVE THIS DUNGEON<br>by order of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nWill you [[stay in the cell]], as instructed, or [[leave immediately|Forbidden Practices]]?
Ignoring the other pressing biological urges, you make a beeline for the counter and order a triple hulaburger and large fries from the spotty oik working there.\n\n'Excuse me,' says the spotty oik, 'but I take great exception to being referred to as a spotty oik. It's not easy being a teenager you know.'\n\n'That wasn't me,' you say, 'it was in the main body of the paragraph. Now give me my burger, I'm hungry.'\n\nAs the youth wraps your chosen delicacy in greaseproof paper
You take off the snakes, gingerly. What the hell is that smell? \n[[You pass out|Unconsciousness]].
You eat the fondue. \n\nIt's not bad at all!!\n\n\n[[You feel inspired to get concert tickets|The Next Page]]
Grrff!! MMff!! Phew! This is hard work, and it's not getting any funnier as Donald constantly asks "What you smiling at?" and then falls about laughing. In fact you're so fed up with him that you find the nearest chair and crack him round the head. "Ok, Ok, you win. I'll show you [[the exit|At Long Last, The Ex-It!]]" says Donald*.\n\n *In the universal language of mime.
'It'll be fine,' you tell yourself. 'I'll blend into the background. Nobody will notice me. It'll be fine.'\n\nYou select from your closet a zebra-print catsuit. 'Zebras are canny animals,' your say to yourself, 'their stripy hides enable them to blend in perfectly with their environment. Hopefully the white stripes won't glow //too// brightly in the ultraviolet lighting.'\n<<<\n''THE PEOPLE OF THE STORY''\n\n//THE CENTRAL CHARACTERS//\n\nTHE FAT GNOME, a gnome, and your prom date.\nDONALD McRONALD, a clown, and your back-up date.\nSUSIE, your favourite acquaintance, and prom date stealer.\nVIRGINIA, your identical triplet.\n\n//PEOPLE MENTIONED//\n\nLILA, your sister, the third triplet.\nMR. BIGLET, Susie's psychotherapist.\nDR. SHIRLEY, rector of Uppercross.\nJUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!!, a pop group.\n<<<\nThe zebra-printed catsuit, you recall, has several unique features - and as you remove all your clothes to change you notice that in addition to the usual zebra-catsuit properties of epic, figure-hugging nylon stripes, and flame-retardance - this catsuit also has the power to become invisible when your eyes are closed.\n\n‘I can't wait to try that out’ you think, as you deftly slide into the catsuit - feeling glad that you’d moisturised thoroughly that morning. Excitedly you stand in front of a mirror and repeatedly close your eyes. \n\nOf course, with your eyes closed and nobody else to observe it happening it’s impossible to tell if the invisibility is working, but the thought of it is thrilling enough for 20 minutes of blinking and grinning. \n\n[[You hear a tree-falling out in the forest, but ignore it|A Tree Falls In The Forest]]. \n[[You should get going|The Ball]]....\n
Laughingly Donald helps you to your feet. He produces a small hand mirror and holds it up to your face. You look about as happy as a small mollusc that has just been prised off his favourite boulder by a cheap imitation Swiss Army penknife.\n\nThe helter-skelter is located in a forest. Two clearly defined paths can be seen, one leading [[south|The Fat Gnome's House]], and the other [[south-west|Footprints]].\n
You're a little sceptical of homoeopathy, but HRH the Prince of Wales believes in it, so it must be true. Thus reassured, you down the glass ——————————————— and immediately fall to the ground, clutching your throat in pain as your insides are slowly dissolved away. ————— Now that I come to think of it ————— says the witch doctor ————— I used to keep concentrated sulphuric acid in that beaker ————— but I must have washed it a hundred times since then ——————————————— \n\nMoral: Never trust a man in a Hawaiian shirt. \n\n ''* * * You are , quite literally, splatted! * * * ''
'Oh no,' says one of the cannibals 'we don't eat clowns. They taste funny!' The cannibals are so amused by their own joke that they fall about laughing, and don't notice as you and Donald slip off down the north-west path to safety.\n\nSuddenly a terrible, horrible, fearsome tiger springs out from behind a potted palm. It is holding a knife and fork. 'Oh my!' you exclaim, 'suddenly everyone wants me for dinner! Well, I suppose one can't help being popular!' Will you: \n<<<\nA) [[Run like crazy|Howdy Neighbor, Happy Harvest!]], or \nB) [[Attack the tiger like even crazier|Gobbled Whole]]?\n<<<\n\n
(THE BOSS, losing his temper with PLUGALUG picks up the rule book and hurls it through the door at him.) \n\nPLUGALUG: (Offstage, cries) Ouch! \n\nTHE BOSS: Got him! Right on the number 11! \n\nPLUGALUG: (Offstage) It's alright for you, you've got a clipboard! I find it harder! \n\nREADER: (Impatiently) If I might be permitted to ask a question!\n\n(If the READER demands to know why THE BOSS has imprisoned the READER in the Crazy Place, [[proceed to scene 423|End of Act 1]]. If the READER asks THE BOSS why he is reading the rules of the laundry, [[proceed to scene 190|Scene 190]]). \n\n
'I read somewhere that Olso is one of the safest places in the world,' you explain to Donald, 'Nothing bad ever happens there. It's sure to be the best place for this dreadful doll.' Without further ado you wrap the doll in brown paper and string and send it to Oslo by pigeon post.\n\nYou can take advantage of Mr. Tibbles’ present incapacity by helping yourself to the [[escape kit|An escape kit]] or the [[box of cigars|A box of exploding cigars]], or you can [[head straight back to the elevator|Out of Order]].
'This is it, Donald!' you say, 'Finally a chance to confront our tormentor, find out why he's keeping us here and demand that he releases us!'\n\nYou hurl open the door and burst into the room dramatically.\n\nBehind an enormous mahogany veneer desk sits a small man dressed in a bowler hat and open-necked Hawaiian shirt. Around his neck is a medallion which appears to have been made from the lid of a baked bean tin, a cluster of colourful jellybeans serving for jewels. The light from a desk lamp gleams from his spectacles, obscuring his eyes from view. An enormous pile of paper sits to one side of the desk. The Boss is methodically working his way through the pile, tearing it sheet by sheet into confetti and scattering it on the floor.\n\n‘You must be the new cleaners,’ says the Boss without looking up, ‘I have a little paperwork to catch up on. Just pretend I’m not here.’ The office //is// a bit of a mess. Will you:\n\n{d} [[Start with the vacuuming|Cable Trouble]]\n{e} [[Begin with a little light dusting|Feathered Fiend]]\n
Suddenly a hole in the floor appears and you fall down into a huge cavern full of luminous green custard. Diamonds of gold litter the floor of the cavern. You can't see them, on account of all the custard, but they're there alright.\n\nCarven passages lead north and east. Etched into cavern wall in letters six feet high is the following message:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">NO SWIMMING IN THE CUSTARD<br>BY ORDER OF THE BOSS</div></center></html>\n*[[Take the crystals]]\n*[[Take the passage to the north|Junction]]\n*[[Take the passage to the east|Chute]]
Having scoffed more than a hundred triple McFatty-Melts, you are now clinically obese. The only way out of the cave is back through the narrow gap you came in by, which even a supermodel would struggle to squeeze through. I'm afraid you'll have to abandon the idea of escaping from the Crazy Place, and get a job in a comic book store. ''FIN.''
The little donkey carries you away at a snails pace; in fact most snails would be insulted by such a comparison. It is so small that it is difficult to keep your knees from dragging on the ground. When you have gone about a hundred yards, a traffic cop pulls you over for speeding. While he is writing out your ticket, the priest catches up and begins talking to the policeman excitedly in Spanish. The policeman looks at you disgustedly.\n\n'Did you steal this donkey?' he asks.\n\n'I cannot tell a lie,' you reply, 'so I shall say nothing.' \n\nYou are arrested for joy-riding and dragged, kicking and screaming to the [[maximum-security wing|The High Security Wing]] of the Crazy Place.
You cast down the offending hairpiece and saunter stubble-headed back into the partying fray. Thanks to your aggressive new look you are treated with the respect that you deserve, with everybody grovelling at your feet, begging you not to beat them up. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n#[[Comply with their wishes|The Living Room]], or \n#[[Demonstrate your prowess as a fighter|Thumb Suckers]]?
'Should I go thisaway?' - you ask. 'It would certainly make sense,' answers Plugalug. - 'Yes, but how much sense?' you enquire. 'Very little, I'm afraid,' Plugalug replies. If you still wish to go [[thisaway|Ants to a Cheese Doodle]], do so. Otherwise, go [[thataway|Revolve And Be Content]].
Unfortunately you are too late. Norman the Foreman arrives from the warehouse on his daily tour of inspection. Aside from his shiny badge of officialdom Norman can be distinguished from the other ants by his incipient moustache and the fact that he is slightly shorter.\n\n'What's all this then,' says Norman, 'why haven't those sugar cubes been loaded into the mine-car?'\n\n'He was just about to do it, weren't you?' says Clarence, flapping his four spindly arms about in a panic. You nod your agreement. 'Give him a chance, the poor thing's exhausted!'\n\n'See that he does!' says Norman, his incipient moustache bristling officiously. 'This is a mine we're running, Clarence, not a holiday camp! If you're not careful I'll have you thrown out of the nest like those idiots Paolo Pillow and String-Bean Smith!'\n\nSomething about those names rings a bell, a dim memory of a time before you were a slave of the ants, and suddenly you filled with rage at this jumped-up little berk!\n\nWill you [[punch Norman in the nose|No Nose]], or [[kick him in the privates|No Privates]]?
The monster beats you to a jelly. Donald bottles the jelly and sells it for fifty pence a jar at a special bazaar to raise money for fashion victims. The sale raises £3.50.\n\n''*** You have gone to a good cause ***''
You pick up a handful of the jellybean people and pop one into your mouth. Mmmm. They're good! In fact they taste exactly like ordinary jellybeans, except that ordinary jellybeans don't give you pins and needles in your foot. You look down to see that your right leg is under attack from dozens of little swords. This is all very engaging and entertaining until the reinforcements arrive; about twenty thousand of them. Between them they carry you off and feed you into the Jellybeaneriser; a strange looking contraption that would look equally at home in a chocolate factory or in an abattoir. As the door closes behind you the machine starts up with a noise like a kazoo. Seconds later you find yourself standing a mere half-inch high, bright yellow and with a very strong compulsion to sing and play all day. Humming a happy little tune you skip out into the sunshine. You emerge, blinking, into a world of colourful Jellybeans just like you. Without a care in the world you run out into the happy throng, where you skip and play and sing mindless little songs happily ever after for the rest of your life, which is until the following Tuesday, when the entire Jellybean race is scoffed in one mouthful by a very large gnome in a Boogaas t-shirt. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
You are captured by the Ant People and forced to work down one of their sugar mines. Escape is always at the forefront of your mind, but somehow you never get around to it and hey, a job's a job, right? One can't afford to be too fussy in the current economic climate.\n\nYou have been assigned to gallery four. Hewn from the living rock, it follows a rich seam of sugar that runs through the surface of the planet.\n\nYour slave driver is Clarence. All the ants look the same to you; seven feet tall, black and shiny with six legs. Clarence, however is easily identified by his manner; his flamboyant gestures, the way his antennae bob up and down when he gets excited, the funny little way tosses his head. Plus he's the only one who wears flip-flops. For some reason Clarence has only been entrusted with one slave.\n\n"Come on then, get digging," he says, flicking his whip harmlessly across your shoulders. "Norman'll have a fit if we don't fill our quota."\n\nWill you [[dig the sugarface|Keep Your Back Straight]], or [[attempt to make a break for it|Those Sugar Cubes Won't Mine Themselves]]?\n
You pop the mint into your mouth and suck. A second later you are lying flat on your back with your legs in the air, your face a greeny-yellow colour and your tongue hanging out, itself a shade of royal blue and covered in toadstools. You are unconscious when a team of moths carry you out on a nylon stretcher, and lifting your head, pour into your mouth a horrible tasting pink concoction from a bottle marked "antidote". Later on, a moth wearing a stethoscope removes your coat and serves it up to you on a plate with salad. "Eat up," says the moth doctor, "You've got to keep your strength up." \n\nA kindly moth-nurse notes your confusion and explains everything. "You've swallowed a moth ball," she smiles. "Now you eat up that coat and you'll feel much better. There's socks for pudding!" \n\nYou can [[go on eating your clothes|A Complete Recovery]], or [[explain that you're not a moth and discharge yourself from the moth-spital|Not a Moth?]]?
After an arduous fourteen-hour climb you reach the top of the helter-skelter, where you may either [[slide down again without a mat|Friction Frenzy!]], or [[go back to the junction and take the other passage|A Ghastlorrible Smell]].
''by Loz Etheridge''\n\nIt's a bizarre thought that I am now writing the foreword to a book conceived around a quarter of a century ago by its author. What's even more astonishing to me though, is the prophetic nature of its content, especially when you consider that its early contributors were barely into big school at the time. \n\nBy being prophetic, I mean that the Crazy Place, as manic and absurd as it seems, is not actually all that far from the world we live in today, if you break it down to its most basic components. Many of the shady characters within these pages are dead ringers for some of the politicians and celebrities we are unfortunate enough to encounter on a daily basis, and some of the ridiculous rules set out by various oddballs in the book now seem all too familiar. \n\nOf course, there is one major difference - whilst society, with its plastic dictators and phoney superstars, can at the best of times be painstakingly irksome, "Escape From The Crazy Place" is the complete opposite: a blast from start to finish, compulsively addictive, entertaining and satisfyingly exasperating. \n\nEspecially the bits that I wrote... \n\nLoz Etheridge \nJune 2006\n\n[[Back|previous()]]
Reaching into your winter stash of hazelnuts you select a particularly big one and hurl it at the nearest of the maidens. It strikes her a stinging blow on the back of the head. With a hey nonny-nonny and a nonny-nonny-no, all seven maidens turn around and begin to bombard you with buttered crumpets. The onslaught catches you by surprise and you topple from the tree. Lying prostrate at its base, you spy the moon peeking between the branches. It looks remarkably like a slice of watermelon. Dark, evil spirits gnaw at your brain, and you [[scream|Scream]].
You pounce on the Boss-mouse with all your might and main, Unfortunately it is only an inflatable toy. Suddenly the door bursts open and half a dozen or so jelly beans crowd into the room waving their swords at you menacingly. \n\nThey are singing a winsome little ditty; \n\n'We are the jellybeans! \nWe sing and play all day \nIf you were a jellybean, \nYou'd want to stay that way!'\n\n\nBefore you can react they seize you and drag you out of the room and off down a corridor towards Jellybeanland. \n\nYou have no choice but to: \n<<<\n#[[Proceed to the next chapter|The Jellybean-Boss]], \n#[[Proceed to the next chapter|The Jellybean-Boss]], or \n#[[Proceed to the next chapter|The Jellybean-Boss]]... \n<<<
It’s quite an adjustment to get used to civilian life after the excitement and adventure of battle, but armed with your carpet cleaner and your ''//Good Housekeeping Good Wife’s Guide,//'' you set about your wifely duties without complaint. Donald will be home in an hour, and you still have the dinner to do!\n\nFour hours later, you hear the front door open. ‘Honey, I’m home!’ says Donald in the universal language of mime. He’s roaring drunk again, and his collar is covered in lipstick. What a nuisance that is to scrub out! Nevertheless you greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.\n\n‘How was your day?’ you ask. You have a dozen important things to tell him, but now is not the time. You remember that his topics of conversation are much more important than yours. Pressing a cool drink into Donald’s hand, you arrange his pillow and take off his shoes. Catering for his comfort provides you with immense personal satisfaction, but Donald looks sad.\n\n‘I’m tired of this life of marital bliss,’ he says, in the universal language of mime. ‘Let’s go adventuring again!’ You have no right to question his judgement or integrity, so you tear off your pinafore to reveal the massively muscled body of a Cimmerian, raise aloft the mighty runesword Stormbringer and roar ''‘BY THE POWER OF GRAYSKULL, I HAVE THE POWER!!!’''\n\nRough-hewn tunnels lead [[east|One Door]] and [[west|Two Doors]]. Which will you take?
You continue to follow the map, which leads you into several further adventures which are not up to the usual standard. The writing tends towards the melodramatic or faux-archaic, and doesn't set a consistent tone.\n\nYou are joined for this part of the journey by a twenty-three-foot lizard man (played by a sumo wrestler in a rubber suit) who assists you by unloosing his radioactive breath upon sundry assailants. These include a disruptive interloper who purports to be your scabrous auntie Dexter, and a sort of animated cravat that kills by rendering its victims deeply unfashionable for extended periods.\n\nWith the help of your friends, you manage to capture this last, thinking that it may be of some use as a weapon.\n\n[[WEAR THE CRAVAT|Rather Jaunty]], or\n[[CONTINUE FOLLOWING THE MAP|Several Interesting Scenes]]
As you walk across the grass, you notice nothing unusual, the grass is warm and soft and seems perfectly harmless. Suddenly, the grass begins to move and thrusts its blades into your feet, the ground shifts and you are engulfed by rampant turf which slowly chews you to death.\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *'' \n
'No, Donald, stop!' You cry. 'I'm tired of wandering aimlessly - I've decided to put down roots!' But the clown ignores your pleas and continues digging, exposing your sensitive roots.\n\nStrangely, the hole soon begins to get bigger of its own accord, as though the sand were trickling out from beneath you. At this point, the two coconuts decide to beat it, and tearing themselves free, they roll off together across the beach shouting "Now we can cross the Shifting Sands!"\n\nThe shifting sands drag you and Donald [[into the hole|A Deep Booming Voiceover]] as the beach collapses in on itself...
Have you lost your mind? You can't crush a butterfly that's made of SILVER!!!\n\nI have little sympathy for someone so callous, albeit one who presently has a pierced palm due to some VERY sharp legs. Donald produces a small hand mirror and holds it up to your face. You look about as happy as a small mollusc that has just been prised off his favourite boulder by a cheap imitation Swiss Army penknife.\n\nIf you wish, you can attempt to [[make peace with Donald|A Party Trick]]. or, if you've had enough of Donald you can [[leave him and go it alone|You Decide To Go It Alone]]. \n\nAlternatively, you can [[just...slowly...f...a...d..............................e|Fade Away]]
You brace yourself in readiness for lifting the heavy chair across the room and stagger to your feet. At least you try to stagger to your feet, but unfortunately the chair, like all chairs in fast food restaurants, is bolted to the floor. You sit back and sigh hopelessly at your predicament while the waiter, who is dressed like a large orange haired clown, approaches you with the menu. 'Can I help you?' He ventures, a pen poised above his oversized notepad. \n\nWill you [[point out very politely that you are tied to a chair and require assistance in becoming untied|Introducing Gentle Geoffrey]], or [[order a triple hulaburger and large fries|A Pair Of Socks In A Rich Creamy Sauce]]?
After eating nothing but cornflakes for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day for a week, you finally have enough box tops to send away for a new universe. However just as you are about to put the last coupon into the envelope, a freak gust of wind snatches it out of your hand. You chase it up hill and down dale for a quarter of a mile, until eventually it lands on the edge of a swirling vortex, teeters for a moment and drops into the void. \n\nYou have no choice but to go down after it. Who will go first? \n\n\t1. [[YOU|Gobstopper]], or \n\t2. [[DONALD|Pushed]]?
Wigs refuse to be modelled by you, as the Crazy Place Union of Working Wigs (C.U.P.W.W.) has heard that you have a past history of wig abuse and cruelty to hairpeices. Do you:\n\n[[Claim the dole|New Government Regulations]]\n[[Blackleg the union|Head and Shoulders]]
Do you really intend to leave poor Donald to suffer?\n\n[[Yes|A Moral Dilemma - Continued]]\n[[You can bear to watch his his suffering no longer|Black and White]]
When you wake up you find yourself tied to a chair with heavy ropes. For some reason you are now wearing a large raincoat instead of the crushed velvet suit you were wearing before. If you have a nail-file in the left inside pocket of your raincoat, you might be able to use this to cut through the ropes. If you haven't, then I'm afraid I've no sympathy for you. If you want to complete a mission such as this then you really ought to equip yourself with all the necessary accoutrements before you begin. You'll just have to stay tied to the chair. <<set $inventory.push("A nail-file, maybe")>>\n\nChoose \n\n#[[If you do have a nail-file in the left inside pocket of your raincoat|Disaster!]], \n#[[If you don't|No Sympathy]].
While you are still desperately thinking of somewhere to hide, the car pulls up alongside you and Donald materialises. You both get into the car. The car does not have a steering wheel but your trusty instructor assures you that you can steer equally well by leaning on the doors to force the car to turn. \n\nCHOOSE: \n\n#[[If you decide that you will drive instead|Cliff!]]\n#[[If Donald drives|Smoked Glass Coffee Table]]
Mike gives you a glass containing what appears to be soda water. 'Bottoms up!' he grins, encouragingly.\n\nYou were hoping for something a little stronger, but down it anyway, only to discover that you are drinking concentrated sulphuric acid! You fall to the ground, clutching your throat in pain as your insides are slowly dissolved away. \n\nMoral: Never trust a man in a Hawaiian shirt. \n\n ''* * * You are , quite literally, splatted! * * *''
You have chosen the highly dangerous door! <<display 'The Bad Luck Room'>>
You try and pass through the wig flying picket, but unhappily you are dandruffed to death, and even the boss of Head and Shoulders can't revitalise you. In short ''YOU ARE SPLATTED!!'' (He, he, I enjoy this bit)
You listen for the sound of the little electric car, but you can't hear it, so you saunter brazenly out of the cell. The walls of this corridor are covered in signs of various sizes all of which read:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">NO RUNNING\nIN THE CORRIDOR<br>By order of THE BOSS</div></center></html>\n\nChoose: \n\n 1)[[To walk|A Very Long Walk]]\n 2)[[To run|CAUTION FLOOR WET]]
With all your strength you rip the cloth in two and tumble through the hole into the light, cool air of a field of corn. <<display 'Early Dawn'>>
You open the box to find one measley halfpenny piece inside. You may take this, it will add two to your LUCK* score. You may mow [[open the second box|The Second Box]], or [[leave the room|The Bad Luck Room]] by the door to the north.\n\n * Your LUCK score is calculated as follows. Take one die. Wait until dark, and throw the die out of an open window. Now go outside and look for the die. If you can find it, count yourself lucky.
[IMG[escapelogo]]\n<<display 'StoryAuthor'>>\n[[Preface]]\n[[Foreword]]\n[[Credits]]\n[[Inventory]]
Deciding it may be best just to make idle conversation with the vulture-who-thinks-he-is-an-ostrich before dropping the bad news, you say "Last night, I had a dream..." The vulture (let's call him OsVult), gasps in horror and says "Careful! Remember what happened to Martin Luther King Kong!"\n\n"Um...", you begin.\n\n"It was when Dr. King Kong fell off that building that World War 2 began. You don't want to be responsible for World War 3, do you?"\n\n"but...", you proffer, but it's too late.\n\n"It was awful. Annie Nightingale had to doctor people by hitting them on the head. She was known as the Lady Of The Lump. You didn't want to cross her, oh no. Dreadful woman. She bombed pearl barley too, overseen by an evil dictator they called Hitzlsperger."\n\nAre you going to:\n\n[[Give a lengthy history lesson to Osvult|A History Lesson]]\n\nor\n\nTell him. [[Tell him NOW that he's not an ostrich|Not an Ostrich]], in the most blunt manner you can muster\n
You have been transformed into some sort of sea monster; half fish, half human, like a mermaid except that you have the head and body of a mudskipper and human legs. The ensemble comes complete with a necklace of human skulls and, for some reason, white patent-leather Cuban-heeled shoes.\n\n'Oh well,' you say, 'I suppose I'll get used to it. Not sure about the shoes though.'<<set $sea monster = true>>\n\nWhat would you like to do? \n\n#[[Explore your underwater domain|Your Underwater Domain]], or \n#[[swim up to the surface in search of Donald|431 Years]]?
It's luxury, by the pool. The monkey, brings over a silver platter of freshly baked sandwiches and supplies you with a steady stream of both alcohol and soft drinks.\n\nOut of nowhere, Donald appears and, much to your alarm, punches the monkey squarely on the nose, sending said monkey tottering into the swimming pool.\n\n'I heard screaming!', says Donald. 'You seemed to be screaming over and over again!', he explains.\n\n'What are you TALKING about?', you angrily reply, and offer assistance to the monkey, but by now he is furious and bars you both from ever using his bar ever again.\n\n"I heard screaming", repeats Donald, "In fact it sounded like you were screaming and screaming over and over in the hope you may wake up soon from this awful, awful dream".\n\nSomething strangely seems to ring a bell here, like some kind of deja vu feeling, but at the same time, nothing has ever made you go so ballistic as the predicament you now find yourself in.\n\nYou can either:\n\n[[Push Donald in the swimming pool|NO PUSHING IN]]\n\n[[Stare intently into space for three seconds|A Brown Study]]\n\nor\n\n[[pathetically plead with the monkey to let you stay|Kung-Foo]].
Only seconds after you tell him he locks you and Donald up in a room with Bob Monkhouse. The mother-in-law jokes are relentless and unceasing. You beg the man with Australia stuck to his ear to let you free but he just laughs and picks a lump of earwax out of Sydney harbour. \n\n\t''* * * You are splatted! * * * ''
All was going to plan. \nSo you call a meeting with the lead singer, in a giant glass office at the top of your record label: \n\nBzzz\n“We’ve got ***** here to see you.”\n\n“Send him in!” Your voice quivers, despite a confident morning of telling indie bands they’ll make it or not and listening to the evolution of a new type of music that’s hipster-rock cum warbling hip-hop called autovocoderswing. \n\nYou also skewed a few votes in your label’s favour on a popular television talent competition with an app you wrote that morning. \n\nYou quickly swipe away all the framed photos of him from your massive oval desk. \n\nThe desk happens to be made from the timbers of [[HMS Resolute.|Eloquence]]. \n\n\n
'Our paths will surely cross again,' says Plugalug. 'Until such time, revolve, and be content.' You give a low bow and walk towards the door, but just as you are about to leave Plugalug remarks 'And remember, no running, except in compulsory corridors.'\n\n<<display 'Combat Without Weapons or Ballet Rambo'>>
On doing this you are instantly electrocuted, for your rubber soled shoes had been the only thing between you and the electrified floor.\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
An army of intrepid sprouts overcome the eggs. \n\n"You are very clever," says the Boss. "I can see that I am going to have to come up with something better than eggs to get the better of you!" \n\nThe Boss marches off down the corridor in the direction you just came from. You have defeated him, for now. \n\n<<display 'Marmite'>>\n\n
You find the rectangular building empty, so you turn and leave, finding yourself in the beautiful garden. \n\nThere is a sign winking at you, it says 'Keep off the grass.' You can't help thinking something is odd here, perhaps because neither does the sign have lights on it, nor have you read it yet. \n\nWill you:\n<<<\nA) [[Read the sign|Incorrect]] \nZ) [[Enter the conical building|Hole]] \n3) [[Go in search of Donald|Claw Hammer]]\n<<<\n
'Do not read this sign,' you read in a clear, high-toned voice, 'by order of the Boss.'\n\n'That's right,' says the guard on the left.\n\n'And now that you've read the sign,' says the guard on the right, 'then you'll know that it gives very a clear and unambiguous instruction not to do so.'\n\n'An instruction which you have deliberately disregarded, which makes you a malefactor or miscreant.'\n\nYou and Donald are strong-armed into a sort of electric car, and taken through miles of twisting tunnels to [[THE MINIMUM SECURITY WING]].
'Oh well,' you say to yourself resignedly, 'I guess I'm doomed to stay tied to this chair forever.' After a while you begin to nod off. You are not sure whether you have woken up or not when a tiny fluttering light spins out of the darkness. There is a sharp 'ping' and the tiny point of light becomes a shining figure with a wand. It looks exactly like The Boss except that it is wearing a dinner jacket and a tutu. 'I am your fairy godperson,' it says, 'I can make your dreams come true, even if you don't really want them to.' Obviously this tiresome personage is not going to go away until you've wished for something. \n\nWhich of these tantalising prizes will it be? \n\nA) [[To become a millionaire overnight|Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?]]... \nB) [[A twenty years supply of custard|Mggt gmmf schlmmt rfft]]... \nC) [[To escape from the Crazy Place|A Flash of Light]]...
Are you absolutely sure about that?\n<<<\n#[[YES|Verification Needed]]\n#[[NO|It Was All A Dream]]\n<<<\n
You dive out of the window after the shrink, in the hope of catching him before he hits the ground, but something catches your eye. Something big and round and white and luminous, and oh, so beautiful! Spreading your wings wide, you turn away from the ever diminishing shrink and flutter with all your might - upwards - towards the moon!\n\nBut no matter how hard you fly, madam Luna is always just beyond your reach. Three days later, you drop down, exhausted, to your final resting place in the dusty corner of Mr. Biglet's window-sill. \n\n ''* * * You are splatted!! * * *''
Not far along this path you begin to notice that the ground is covered in the footprints of what appear to be very large birds. The tracks are very numerous suggesting that this path is well used by the creatures. Donald urges caution.\n\nWill you [[turn back and take the other path|The Fat Gnome's House]], or [[keep going|Egged On]] in the hope that the animals are friendly?
"That's more like it!" beams the moth-doctor.\n\n<<display 'A Complete Recovery'>>
Finding in your bag of rubbish a scroll of parchment inscribed, in mystic runes and sigils, with the deeds to Satan's eternal soul, you invoke the Prince of Darkness and all his little imps.\n\nSatan appears in a flash of brimstone infused flashiness, and recognising in you the one person who knows his darkest secret, immediately sets his imps to work in effecting a rescue. In under a minute they have hauled you out of the quagmire and brushed away the pulpy residue from your clothes.\n\n"You won't, er, mention to anyone about that Father Christmas business?" mutters the Prince of Darkness cagily. "Scout's honour" you reply. With a nervous smile the devil departs, his impish minions following close behind.\n\nYou seem to have wandered into a narrow gully that goes on for some distance. You decide to see [[what lies at the far end|A Darkened Cave Filled With Paper]].\n\n
You dash across the battlements until you reach a low doorway at the far end. On the other side is a narrow corridor lit by flaming torches. Unfortunately, as you hurry along the corridor, your hair catches light and begins to burn, twiddly widdly widdly all the way down to the roots. Donald manages to put out the flames by pouring a bucket of sand over your head, but now you don't have any hair and tonight is the night of the big party! \n\n"I can't possibly go looking like this!" You cry. "All the cool people will be there!" \n\nFortunately there is [[a wig shop|A Wig Merchant]] just around the corner with half price sale on.
After a ten minute struggle, you manage to extricate your head from the helmet of the suit of armour. You get up, and immediately the floor and ceiling come together with a tremendous crash, squashing you between them. ''FIN''.\n
You open the box and step inside.\n\n'Right, Donald, close the box.' You say. Donald does as you ask. 'Now, nail it shut!' For quite a while the sound of hammering fills the enclosed space, and then there is silence.\n\nYou've been thinking about doing something like this for some time. 'Nobody will ever find me in here,' you say to yourself. 'They'd have to be [[a magician!|I Like Puppies]]'
Eventually you reach the hills and sit down. \nSome time in and slowly, wild animals come out from between the bushes, keeping their distance - wary. \n\nLive antlers and fur surround you, patiently waiting for your next action. \nYou sit on a convenient slab of rock that’s sheltered by a natural cave to contemplate your actions and maybe meditate for a while. \n\nAfter meditating for some time, you reach enlightenment and the animals accept your presence. They hang about inside the cave with you and when one of them passes away, you eat it.\nDrips from the cave roof provide enough water and so, after some years of sitting and meditating your body has carved a groove into the very rock itself, like so many feet climbing stairs over centuries. \n\nEventually your mortal being passes away but your enlightened essence somehow remains; a floating node-locked consciousness sitting in that spot being enlightened for eternity. \n\nErosion happens, civilisations rise, fall and rise again. \nCities are built around your spot, they fall in assorted typical ways. \nThere’s a mass-extinction or two. \n\nTime and time passes and a new world civilisation rises; a city block, a hospital and a mental-health ward is built around your long-gone worn-away plinth and meditating conscience. \n\nYou have had a padded cell built around you. It doesn't seem to have a door. \nA large clown with orange hair is trying to sell you a hamburger...\n\n*[[Buy the hamburger|Donald McRonald]]\n*[[Knock down the wall using the clown's head as a battering ram|A Laundry]]\n*[[Batter it down with the hamburger]]
On your second attempt the wall collapses and together you stumble into what appears to be a laundry. A large sign on the wall reads:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">DO NOT OVERLOAD THE WASH MACHINE<br>BY ORDER OF THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nThe clown introduces himself as Donald McRonald, and after shaking your hand just a little too energetically, he wanders off to do some exploring of his own. There are a lot of clothes hanging on a washing line here.\n\n[[Take the clothes|Three People Wearing Towels]]\n[[Take a closer look at the washing machines|Trapped in a washing machine!]]
You search the clown finding a Squidgyburger in one of his many pockets. It revives him considerably and when he is well enough to talk you ask him how he came to be sharing a cell with you. Donald mumbles something about a shadowy figure known only as 'THE BOSS' and a previous conviction.\n\n[[Interrogate him further|Kentilla!]]\n[[Take the clothes|Three People Wearing Towels]] from the washing line\n[[Leave the laundry|Memory Loss]]
So does he.\n\n ''* * * You are splatted! * * *''
Suddenly you realise you haven't slept for 44 hours, a personal record! Finding a soft, mossy mound, you curl up and try to catch up on some sleep, but the moment you close your eyes Donald produces a banjo and begins to play it very badly. By 3am you are a trembling wreck, crying uncontrollably and dry heaving. \n\n'Stop it! Stop it!' You cry, suddenly aware of the power of brainwashing. \n\nWill you: \n\n(1) [[Attack Donald and try to make him stop|A Ridiculous Grin]], or (2) [[Accompany him on the ukulele|A Mysterious Stranger]]?
'I'm sorry Sir/Madam' says the angel at the reception desk, 'but the "other place" was closed down when we realised that it couldn't possibly be any worse than an eternity of sitting on a cloud and listening to other peoples' life stories.'\n\n[[Apply for reincarnation|Reincarnation]]\n[[Try to find the exit|The Exit]]
A quarter of an hour ago, the alarm clock says, it was a quarter to now. ------- Yes, but what time is it now? ------ why, a quarter past then, of course. He raises his hamburger hat and sticks out his tongue. \n\nChoose: \n\nA) [[If you have met Plugalug before|Around and Around]]. \nB) [[If not|Plugalug At Your Service]].
Unfortunately, since you don't have a mat, the friction between the slide and the seat of your pants soon begins to generate a little heat. When you are about halfway down the Helter-Skelter wisps of smoke start to pour from your posterior. By the time you reach the bottom your own bottom is on fire.\n\n“‘Tis not like a Gentleman to swear, but Gad dem-me,” says you, “my Bri-Nylon britches hath caught aflame, I think I hath the right!”\n\nWill you: \n<<<\na) [[Sit in a puddle of water|Oysters]], \nor b) [[Sit in a puddle of gasoline|An Intelligent Readership]]?\n<<<\n
'It'll cost you.' says the next darling delightful little child. 'Forty-seven thousand pounds.'\n\n'Forty-seven thousand pounds?! I don't have that kind of money!' You exclaim.\n\n'No money, no mat.' says the boy. \n\nYou grumble something about the youth of today knowing the price of everything and the value of nothing, or something like that, you can't remember how it goes.\n\nChoose:\n#If you are prepared to [[pay him|What a forgetful little guy!]]. \n#If you decide to [[slide down the helter-skelter without the aid of a mat|Friction Frenzy!]].\n#To [[use Donald as a mat|Hair-ball Horror!]].\n#To forget the helter-skelter and [[head back along the passage\n|A Ghastlorrible Smell]].\n
Fortunately for Donald, the chair, like everything else in this forest, is not a real one but a crude construction of sticky-backed plastic and cardboard tubes. It breaks into pieces without doing him the least harm. Perhaps feeling a little sorry for you, he offers an olive branch. <<set $inventory.push("A cuddly toy")>>\n\n<<display 'A Party Trick'>>\n\n
You decide to join the French Foreign Legion in order to forget all about Donald. Donald decides to tag along. It doesn't take you long to reach the Fort where the Legion hang out. \n\n"We'd like to join the Legion," you say cheerfully. \n\n"Certainly sir," says the man in charge, "you can join the Lost Patrol when it leaves tomorrow morning on a two-thousand mile march across the scorching desert sands." \n\nYou are so excited that you hardly sleep a wink, but the next morning you are disappointed to learn that the two-thousand mile march across the scorching desert sands has been cancelled because it is raining. \n\n"Never mind," says Donald, "I expect this happens all the time. Why don't we take our raincoats and go for a walk on our own?" \n\nChoose: \n<<<\na) [[If you think this is a spiffing idea|You Are Decorated For Bravery]]. \nb) [[If you'd prefer to stay indoors and play a board game|Donald's Idea]].\n<<<\n
It wasn't horse manure at all. It was a cow pat. No sooner do you land in the foul smelling faeces than you notice a large bovine face staring at you. And that face does NOT look happy.\n\n'You have blasphemed the Cow of Justice!' screeches the cow, pausing for dramatic effect.\n\n'The Cow of What?' you cry. Instantly a small man who looks like a mole, and who possibly is a mole, runs in dressed in livery, and reads aloud from a scroll:\n\n"She walks on eggshells without breaking them, this earth-goddess, this elephantine genius, with her skewbald coat...\n\nAnd she walks across the land with jelly in her boots and her life is a NUCLEAR EXPLOSION.\n\nAnd she speaks with words of great stupidity and people come from miles around to hear, dragging their feet...\n\nFor she is the miraculous 'Cow of Justice' and the 'Mother of Cows', and none who hear her gospel will ever be the wiser."\n\nThe small man who looks like a mole furls the scroll and runs off into the distance.\n\nSuddenly the cowpat becomes a bubbling, intimidating active volcano. With horror you realise that your coat tails are aflame...\n\nWill you [[sit in a puddle of water|Wantwit]], or [[sit in a puddle of gasoline|An Intelligent Readership]]?
You illuminate the room to reveal an array of splendorous beauty, and two boxes, one upright, the other horizontal. You may [[open the first box|The First Box]], or [[the second box|The Second Box]], or [[leave the room|The Bad Luck Room]] by a door to the north.
*[[Hypnotherapy]]\n*[[Acupuncture 1]]\n*[[Herbal Medicine]]\n*[[homoeopathy]]
The head of marketing draws a line on the ground in red marker pen, saying \n\n"On this side we have VUD (TM) washing powder. On the other side is ORDINARY (TM) powder. Gentlemen, you have chosen your weapons - may the best brand win!"\n\nTaking your places either side of the line, you and your opponent commence battle. \n\n"En garde!" cries your opponent, thrusting and parrying like a pro. Desperately you cast your mind back to all those wasted hours watching Errol Flynn films on BBC2 and struggle to remember some of the moves. All you can recall is lots of people in silk stockings shouting "touché" a lot and twiddling their moustaches. \n\n"Touché!" you shout out of sheer desperation, and thrust your umbrella at the N in ORDINARY. By some miracle it meets its mark, and the Chairman of the board of directors of the Ordinary Corporation falters and falls to the ground. \n\n"I am done for!" he cries. "Sir, I congratulate you - you have outclassed me. VUD (TM) washes whitest after all. To die, to soap - no more! And in that soap what suds may come... Goodnight, sweet suds - may flights of bubbles sing me to my rest!" And with that, he dies. In all the ensuing confusion, you and Donald (who is still dressed as Little Bo-Peep) [[manage to sneak away|A Hasty Exit]].
You examine each of the machines in turn, but notice nothing unusual about them until you reach the sixth one along. As you peer into the glass you catch a glimpse of what seems to be a FACE amid the bubbles, and realise that DONALD has somehow become trapped inside! The machine begins to churn into action and Donald becomes just a blur of colour as he whizzes round.\n<<set $donald_drowning = true>>\n[[Try to get him out|Deep-Down Clean]]\n[[Forget him and grab the clothes|A Moral Dilemma]]
"Don't forget to write!" cackles the little old lady as you clamber out of the bowl. According to Google Maps there is a certified medical practitioner operating from a grass hut in a forest a short walk from here. Gingerly you make your way to the surgery of the [[witch doctor|Witch Doctor]].
You stand on the Ex-It and trample around for a while. You then notice Donald giving you a look normally reserved for someone who has forgotten to put any clothes on this morning. Sheepishly, you step away from the 'Ex-It'. "What you smiling at?" asks Donald.\n\n<<display 'Serious Looks Are Exchanged'>>
The Boss' office. Large wooden desk, smaller typist's desk. THE BOSS is seated behind the large desk. On the desk in front of him is a large yellow plastic sack. His assistant JANICE enters through a side door. She sits behind the small desk and begins to paint her nails. \n\nTHE BOSS: (To the READER) There are one or two small things I would like to clear up before we proceed any further. If you're quiet they'll go quickly. If I'm disturbed we'll start again. \n\nJANICE: May I go and get the ice cream? \n\nTHE BOSS: Yes, of course. Run along. (JANICE exits. To the READER) Now, where was I? \n\nREADER: If you're disturbed we'll start again. \n\nTHE BOSS (Shouts) Don't interrupt! (Pause) If I'm disturbed we'll start again. (THE BOSS produces a large book from a desk drawer and begins to read aloud. \n\nThe READER [[listens attentively|Scene 319]].
Together you run helter-skelter through the forest, with the ostrich people in hot pursuit. Fortunately they don't have the same turn of speed as real ostriches, and their fancy dress rubber bird feet cause them to skid all over the floor ungracefully. Within a very few minutes, you have lost them.\n\nAlthough at first it seemed that the forest was enormous, it soon becomes clear that the whole thing is an illusion done with mirrors, and it is actually no bigger than a box room. One of the mirrors turns out to be a secret door. [[You go through|A Broad Passageway]], shutting it firmly behind you.
You are happily doing this when you realise that you have sewn a red and white polka dot handkerchief next to a pale green one with lace trim and your name embroidered in pink. The colours clash horribly. \n\nWill you: \n<<<\nA. [[Unpick the parachute and start again, or|It Was All A Dream]]\nB. [[Pull the ripcord as quickly as possible?|Confirmation Required]]\n<<<\n\n
One thing leads to another, and before long you have eaten the entire trolley, including the contents. You attempt to stagger to your feet.\n\n'That's enough for today.' says the instructor, helping you upright. 'Remember, the more you eat, the bigger your stomach gets, and the more you can eat next time. I can see you making massive gains in the future. Particularly around the middle.' You sign a life contract and give him your credit card and pin number and the deeds to any property you may own, and [[waddle painfully towards the exit|Fissure]]. Donald, who has been drinking espressos and reading a newspaper throughout your workout, follows behind.
Eventually the doppelgänger steps out of the way allowing you to pass. \n\n'I don't know,' you grumble, 'some people...' \n\nHoping that this is the last you will see of this irritating yet good-looking person you wander off in search of Donald. However, you have gone not more than a few hundred yards before you get the strange feeling that you are being followed. A quick glance over your shoulder confirms it - your double is following you! \n\n'Will that idiot never leave me alone?' you mutter to yourself. You decide to increase your walking pace in the hope of losing your double in the now-familiar maze of passages. Fortunately it works, and for the first time in quite a while you can relax. \n\nReturning once again to the doorway, you may either \n\n[[Take the passage to the east|A Rickety Looking Elevator]], or \n[[Attempt in vain to climb the wall|Ladder]], which is preposterously high and devoid of footholds.
'What floor, please?' asks the elevator operator, a wraith-like old man covered in a patina of dust, whose waxy features make you wonder if he is real. The floors are not numbered but named.\n\n[[The Forest Floor]]\n[[The Mezzanine Floor]] \n[[The Furnishing Department]]\n[[The Bargain Basement]]\n[[The Catacombs|Weightless]]\n
You run off in pursuit of the bird, thrashing through the corn, but tripping after a couple of meters you are gone between the stalks, never to be seen again. Left to his own devices, Donald decides to\n\n[[Search for a way out of the field|Toenails]]\n[[Look for buried treasure|Toenails]]\n[[Follow you into the corn|Toenails]]
So that's your idea of fun, is it? Going around stomping on innocent people? I'm not sure I like you at all. In fact I'm not going to write about you any more. So nyeh.\n\n''You are dead.''
'Ugh!' Exclaims the Yogi wiping his eye with a spotted handkerchief 'That was really unhygienic!' He points an accusing finger in your direction. 'Just for that I'm going to turn YOU into a hideous monster and banish you forever to the bottom of the sea. And YOU...' he says, pointing at Donald, '...YOU I'm going to trap underneath a mountain of hamburgers for the next 500 years.' And with that, he gives himself a shake, passes magic wind and just like that... \n\n...you vanish in a puff of lightly scented talcum powder. \n\nAnd if you do not know what happens in the next chapter, then you must \n\n>>#[[Read the next chapter|White Patent-Leather Cuban-Heeled Shoes]]...
"You couldn't help me out, could you old chap?" says the voice on the phone. The voice has a familiar cadence.\n\nYou look around the room once again, to see that Donald is being chased by an invisible ogre, while the fat gnome is flat on his back, being borne away by an army of ants. Unless you do something quickly it will be the end for both of your friends. Unfortunately, you can only save one of them. Which will it be?\n\n[[Donald|Intangible]]\n[[The fat gnome|Saved]]
it becomes clear that everything that has happened to you since the age of seven months has been some kind of crazy dream. You wake up to find that Teddy has fallen out of the pram again.\n\nWill you:\n\n[[Scream|Nappy]] because your nappy needs changing,\n[[Scream|The Pale Cast of Panic]] because your teeth are coming through, or\n[[Scream|The Last Tiny Morsels of Squirreldom]] because Teddy has fallen out of the pram again?
BOOM. ''Fin.''\n
Ta-daaa! You leap out of the box to everyone's surprise like a seal. 'Ladies and gentlemen,' says the magician, 'Let's have a big hand for Garbo the Great, escapologist extraordinaire!' You are treated to a standing ovation by an audience composed entirely of seals. \n\nWhen the applause has died down a little, the magician strides over to another box similar to the one from which you have just escaped, except in that it is upright. 'You will remember, ladies and gentlemen,' says the magician to his audience, 'that earlier in the show I locked my glamorous assistant Donald in this perfectly ordinary wooden box.' The audience begin to bark perhaps in agreement, or perhaps because they want more fish. \n\nWhen the magician opens the box, however, it is completely empty! 'You will observe,' continues the conjurer, 'that the lovely Donald has entirely disappeared!' The seals are too flabbergasted to clap. \n\nWill you \n<<<\n*[[Demand to know what he has done with Donald|A Blunt and Twisted Saw]], or \n*[[Wait to see what he does next?|Piece De Resistance]]\n<<<\n\n
You shout the password, 'Gungplunkie!' and as if by magic, the shopkeeper appears.\n\n<<display 'Go with the man from the shop'>>
Reluctantly you raise the white flag, hastily fashioned from a paper napkin. The octopus locks you in the brig, where you remain for three weeks, subsisting on pickled onions. \n\n<<display 'Breadcrumb Coating'>>
It's easy enough to work out which way you went. \n\nIf you are right handed, you must have travelled anti-clockwise, and must travel [[clockwise|The Scene Shifts]] to get back. If you are left handed, then conversely you must travel [[anti-clockwise|The Scene Shifts]].
Donald calls you a cowardy custard. Will you [[stick to your guns|A Walk-In Closet]], or [[go back and face the monster|You Hide Under The Circumstances]]?
You tumble headlong into space, leaving the planet in a straight line. Nothing can stop you now. Ever.\n\n''You are splatted.''
'This is most irregular,' says the driving instructor as you and Donald swap places, 'this is a high-class driving school - we don't normally expect our pupils to have to drive themselves.' It is only when you are cruising at 40 mph that you realise the car not only has no steering wheel, but no brakes. When you mention this to the driving instructor he assures you that brakes are totally unnecessary, and that you can stop the car simply by driving it into a tree. Unfortunately the car is already heading for a cliff edge, with not a tree in sight. \n<<<\nA) [[Try to jump clear|Many Worlds]] \nB) [[Close your eyes and hope for the best|You Succeed In Jumping The Cliff]]\n<<<
You force the tree stumps out of the way to reveal a huge hole with a sign saying 'Humble Abodal Shoe'. Donald sits in the hole reading in the dark with a torch. You look more closely. The book is entitled "Kindergarten Is Like The Ocean". If you like, you can [[ask Donald what the book is about|Kindergarten Is Like The Ocean]], or if you'd rather, you can [[cut off all your hair|Snip Snip]].
You make good use of the gaslighter, keeping the tip of the cigar well above the flame, and settle back in an easy chair, just blowing smoke rings and contemplating the moment. The room, illuminated by the gas lighter, continues to diminish in size, but you don't let it bother you - after all, what could possibly spoil a moment like this? \n\nTHERE IS [[A HORRIBLE SQUELCH|To Sleep Perchance To Dream]].
You open the book at the first page and read a few words. It seems to be the instructions for boiling an egg. Flicking forward, you find that there are several thousand pages of telephone numbers. After this, a blow-by-blow account of the lives of every person who ever lived, a chapter entitled 'How to construct everything ever invented' and another entitled 'The locations of everything that was ever lost, including this book. (It's here.)' With a gasp of amazement you realise that you have found it - the fabled Golden Book of So-and -So, reciprocle of all known knowledge! The book is extremely heavy, but carrying it between you, you begin the long walk back to the cave entrance. <<set $inventory.push("The Golden Book of So-and-So")>>\n\nIf you do not know what happened along the way, you must [[listen to what is told in the next chapter|An Eyewitness Account]]...
(THE BOSS picks up the large yellow bag and turns it around so that the words 'CLINICAL WASTE' can be seen printed on the side. He hands it to the READER and points in the direction of the side door.) \n\nTHE BOSS: Hurry along now! I don't have time for laggards and lollygaggers - you've got to shoot where the ducks are thickest in this game, you know! \n\n(The READER either [[examines the contents of the bag|Scene 92]], or [[exits, carrying the bag|An Intolerable Stench]].)
You take the penguin's cold hot water bottle and climb onto Donald's back. The penguin climbs onto yours and the three of you swim together (Donald doing all the work) for about six hours. Eventually you arrive at a tropical island and drop the penguin off. The bird thanks you again and again, grasping your hand between his clammy flippers and shaking it vigorously. He offers you a piece of advice:\n\n"Don't take the door on the left - it leads to the bad luck room!"\n\nand you go your separate ways - he to sunbathe and you and Donald to explore. \n\n#[[Dive down a hole in the ground|Crumbs]], or \n#[[Don't move|Stock Still]].
'Wait! Come back!' you say, racing after the salesman. It doesn't take you long to catch up; in his down-at-heel shoes the old man's progress is painfully slow.\n\nThe man stops and turns and looks up at you with rheumy blue eyes.\n\n'You don't want a vacuum cleaner. You're just saying that because you feel sorry for me. Save your money kiddo. Being a salesman is a pretty thankless task, but it's what I chose to be. There's no reason to why you should feel obliged to waste your money just because of some dumb decision I made when I was barely more than a kid. Spare your sympathy for the poor saps I've been conning all these years. Goodbye, kid.'\n\nHe shuffles around the corner and disappears.\n\n[[Follow him and beg him to sell you a vacuum cleaner|Desperation]]\n[[Rush over to the Bargain Basement before it closes|Under New Management]]
You make a dash for the door and run down the adjoining corridor. \n\n'After them!' yell the three people wearing towels. You suddenly realise that you are being pursued by three demented washing machines - the three people wearing towels have removed the concrete blocks that serve as ballast allowing them to judder all over the room noisily! \n\n[[Stand and fight like a man]]\n[[Sit down and talk things through like a civilised human being|This Is Getting Us Nowhere]] \n[[Run away like a coward|A Gesture Misinterpreted]]\n\n
In a fit of extreme annoyance, you tug at Donald's large red nose, hoping to pull it off and reveal his 'real' nose. You pull at his wild curly orange hair, in an attempt to dislodge what you think must be a wig. Neither of them will budge, so instead you set about him with a soapy sponge hoping to wipe away his silly clown make-up, but it is soon quite clear that his clownish features are here to stay. Then Donald takes the sponge and begins scrubbing madly at your face. When you have wiped the suds from your eyes, Donald hands you a mirror. The face that stares back at you is exactly the same as Donald's!\n\n<<display 'Serious Looks Are Exchanged'>>
You fish in your pockets for money using a maggot as bait. The maggot must be magnetic as it finds four and a half pence in unmarked bills. 'I'll have to owe you the rest.' you say, handing him the money. The boy seems satisfied and runs off to spend it on cigars. Unfortunately he has forgotten to give you the mat. \n\n'What a forgetful little guy!' you chuckle. \n\nChoose:\n#If you want to [[run after him|CAUTION FLOOR STILL WET]]. \n#If you decide to [[slide down the helter-skelter without the aid of a mat|Friction Frenzy!]].\n#To [[use Donald as a mat|Hair-ball Horror!]].\n#To forget the helter-skelter and [[head back along the passage.\n|A Ghastlorrible Smell]].\n
When you met the lead singer from JUSTIN!! WE LOVE YOU JUSTIN!! and later had your hair cut shorter to be just like his, you asked the hairdresser to keep the part of your hair that he’d touched for you to enshrine later. \n\nIt’s bound into a phial you wear on your neck and the promise-ring you gave yourself when you promised to only love them and only them and that if you ever saw the lead singer again you’d literally jump at the chance to say I love you!\n\n\n[[You suddenly notice you still have your liver and kidneys|You still have your liver and kidneys]]
'Goodmorning.' says the shopkeeper 'Now... Where would you like to go today?'\n\n[[India]]\n[[The Stone Age]]\n[[Venus]]\n[[The Bottom of the Sea]]\n[[Surprise Journey]]
You enter the concert hall to find it completely deserted apart from a rather fat gnome who doesn't seem to be able to get down from the stage.\n\nWill you [[help him to get down from the stage|A Warm Cocoon]], [[ask him what happened to the rock concert|A Protest Band]], or [[leave the concert hall by the way you came in|Thank You Very Much]]?\n\n
There is a fuzzy orange thing hovering just at the edge of your conscious mind, and despite your best efforts it is becoming harder and harder to ignore. There is a sound too, a word which sounds vaguely familiar to you but which somehow you just can't place. Suddenly something is grabbing you by the shoulder and shaking you hard, and it dawns on you that the word being shouted in your ear is your name. With a final effort Donald wrenches you from the flower's embrace, seconds before it bares its fangs and makes a lunge at your neck. Now fully in possession of your senses, you turn and flee, following Donald to the safety of a nearby cave... \n\n'Those carnivorous plants must have cast some sort of spell on me,' you say to Donald as you catch your breath, 'Lucky thing you were around - or I'd be plant food! Let's hope that's the last time someone decides they want me for their lunch!' \n\nAt the back of the cave, two narrow tunnels disappear into the gloom. Which one will you take? \n\n#[[The tunnel on the left|At the Mountains of Madness]] \n#[[or the one on the right|ROCKFALL]]?
You grab the clown by the hair and wrestle him to the door, knocking his head against it several times until his face resembles a vacuum-sealed pizza. The door doesn’t open, but he’s mightily pissed off. Shaking himself of your grip he scoops up a fistful of marmalade and presses it against your face, the jam stings and you let him go - he runs off into the corn, tripping after a couple of meters and is gone between the stalks, never to be seen again. \n\nA tap on the shoulder and you spin around... It’s a large clown with orange hair holding a hamburger. \n\n“Would you like to buy a hamburger?” he asks. \n\n“Yes” You reply, handing him a £50 note that you had in your other pocket, having forgotten to check it earlier. Unfortunately the hamburger is swiped by a seagull before you get a chance to eat it.\n\nWill you [[run after the seagull|Tripping]] in the hope of getting your hamburger back, or forget about it and [[try the door|All at once you spy a crowd]].
Using a gas lighter you found earlier, you light one of the cigars, taking care to hold the tip of the cigar well above the flame. After taking just a couple of puffs there is a VERY LOUD EXPLOSION... So loud in fact that it sends Donald temporarily deaf, so that he cannot hear himself laugh as he watches your head fly across the room. If it's any consolation, Donald afterwards felt quite upset about your sudden demise, and purchased your head from Mr. Tibbles at a quite exorbitant price. He carried it with him ever after as a reminder to himself to give up smoking. ''FIN.''
As you sit there your arms turn hairy and black and hooves emerge in place of your hands. Your legs shrink and turn pink and hairy. Your neck grows and turns pink with brown patches and your head turns brown, whiskers sprout from your cheeks and triangles from your forehead. Before you know it you are surrounded by photographers and pairs of scissors from Austria. They carry you off to a large museum and [[lock you in a glass box|Get Those Tree Stumps Out Of Here]].
Fortunately you are carrying with you a small pamphlet entitled "How to read Egyptian Heiroglyphics" which you found during your adventure with the Space Wombats. With the help of this tome you are able to decipher the comic strip, and to your great joy you discover that it is actually a set of instructions explaining how to escape from the Crazy Place! \n\nThe first cartouche depicts a seated figure milking a cow. \n\n"Of course!" you say to yourself, "That must be the fabled Cow of Destiny!" \n\nThe second cartouche is almost too tiny to make out, but with the help of a magnifying glass you are able to discern the shapes of two insects, possibly ants or termites.\n\nThe third cartouche appears to be a picture of the Taj Mahal; the fourth an animated alarm clock with a hamburger for a hat and the fifth a smoked glass coffee table. The sixth cartouche simply contains the word "IT"; strangely it has been crudely crossed out at a later date. Excitedly you move on to the seventh and final cartouche, but before you can examine it properly a pair of clumsy, bandaged hands wrap themselves around your neck and begin to squeeze...\n\nStruggling free from its grip, you can either: \n<<<\n#Duck through a small doorway into [[a room full of suits of armour|The Armoury]], or \n#Dash through an ornate Gothic archway into [[a room full of baroque ironwork|Assorted Archaic Artefacts]] and polished marble pillars in the Moorish style. \n<<<
Donald attempts to repair the refrigerator on his own. \n\nIt explodes. You [[black out|Unfamiliar Surroundings]].
When you regain consciousness you find yourself in unfamiliar surroundings. Someone has tied your left hand to your right foot. Donald is hanging by one leg from the ceiling, looking most forlorn. Lying several feet to your right is a reel-to-reel tape recorder which you can just reach with your free hand. \n\n[[Play the tape|The Ballad of Bob and Joy]] \n[[Attempt to untie yourself first|Rhinestone Covered White Satin Flares]]
After struggling across this strange, sponge-like territory for just fifteen minutes and thirty-five seconds, you stumble and fall into one of the spongy holes.\n\n<<display 'Crumbs'>>
You have made a terrible choice! I strongly urge you to reconsider! \n\nWill you \n<<<\n#[[Choose the other option|Back to the Beginning]], or \n#[[Stick with the first one|Combat Without Weapons or Ballet Rambo]]? \n<<<\n\n
What will you do? (Tick one answer only.) \n<<<\n(i) [[Flap your arms like a bird|Splat]]\n(ii) [[Search your pockets for handkerchiefs and sew them all together to make a parachute|A Near-Fatal Blunder of the Aesthetic Sort]]\n<<<
Tremble you jelly like begin to. Bind that chair to you the unravelled ropes that the begin become to. Free you're! Words up unfortunately still your mixed are though. \n\n'Donald, free I'm!' say you. 'Trembled I jelly like, ropes and the undone came!' \n\n'I like jelly,' Donald inanely says. Realise you first the time for that sitting is jelly he in bowl of big a. Words and longer no up his mixed are! \n\n'Course of!' say you. 'Cure the must be for jelly affliction strange hulaburger the!' \n\nJump you jelly the gigantic into bowl of. Instantaneously you are cured of the strange jumbled-up words affliction. To your surprise, you and Donald are not alone in the jelly bowl. \n\n'this jelly is jolly good stuff, you know!' says the kindly little old lady who shares the bowl with you and Donald. \n\nWill you\n<<<\n#[[Help the old lady to eat the jelly|Factory Mix Up]], \n#[[Tell her to eat you instead|Dead, By Gum!]], or\n#[[Get out of the bowl as quickly as possible?|Tunnel Of Doom]]\n<<<\n*That's Jell-o to anyone reading this in the good ol' US of A.
You kick the book as hard as you can, and naturally you experience an excruciating pain in your foot. The book, being made of solid 22-carat gold, hasn't moved an inch. 'Ow! That really hurt!' you say to yourself. 'What an idiot! Now I can't walk!' Donald offers to carry you the rest of the way. You assume he means on his back, but instead he tucks you under his arm. In this way you continue your journey along the passage.\n\n(During the experience you seem to have sprouted another toe.)\n \nYou continue along the twisting tunnel for what seems like an eternity, keeping your eyes peeled for the Golden Book of So-and-So. Strange, eerie noises are emanating from a tape recorder. After a little while they begin to get on your nerves, so you turn them off. Presently a thought occurs to you. \n\n'Donald - that book I kicked back there, the big golden one... You don't think it could have been the Golden Book of So-and-So do you?' \n\nDonald shrugs. \n\nYou must now choose whether to [[go back and get the book|Found: The Golden Book of So-and-So]], or [[keep searching|Failure!]].
With a stunning triple backflip you evade your captors and and escape to the safety of a nearby lollipop tree. Donald, however, decides to stay behind and go in the Jellybeaneriser, because he has never been a Jellybean before. When he emerges from the machine he is distinguishable from the other Jellybeans only by his orange hair and red nose. Immediately he begins to dance and to sing the Jellybean song in the universal language of mime:\n\n'We are the Jellybeans! \nWe sing and play all day \nIf you were a Jellybean, \nYou'd want to stay that way!'\n\nObviously he is no use to you this way.\n\n[[Try to force him back into the machine]], hoping that it will reverse the process \n[[Persuade him to go back into the machine]] by telling him that all Jellybeans get eaten\n
Leaving the wall behind, turning your back on its large illuminated sign bearing the word 'LADDER' and the ladder lying underneath that sign, you proceed along the unpromising passage to the east. \n\nThe corridor ends at the entrance to an old and very rickety looking elevator. Having very little alternative, you call the lift, and when the great doors open you step inside. \n\n<<display 'Call the lift'>>
Having missed the last Tube, you now have no option but to take the night bus. Three hours later you come to the conclusion that the bus is going around in circles, and when it stops at the lights on the Green Man roundabout for the fourth time, you force the doors open and jump out. \n\nYou roll down a bank into a clearing on Leyton Flats, not far from Hollow Ponds. Your head swims and you begin to wish you hadn't drunk all those bottles of Punk IPA.\n\nAbove you in the night sky, some of the stars are flickering intermittently, like faulty light bulbs. They are not light bulbs, of course, they are massive, luminous spheres of plasma millions of miles in diameter, but they are old, and some of them are broken. Some of them are not stars at all, but galaxies and galactic clusters; the most distant objects in the Crazy Place.
Your doppleganger punches you in the nose, and a fight breaks out between the two of you. It looks as though you are going to win, but just as you are about to throw the winning punch, you mistake yourself for your double and knock yourself unconscious. \n\n<<display 'Unfamiliar Surroundings'>>
Unfortunately, being a worker ant, Norman doesn't have any private parts, so instead you lunge at him with your pickaxe. <<display 'No Picnic'>>\n\n
Turning the map this way and that, you manage to orient yourselves. The path to the exit is clearly marked, but there are a few twists and turns along the way.\n\nAround the next corner you and Donald become involved in the greatest adventure of your lives. It is so spectacular, so thrilling and extraordinary that the rest of your exploits pale by comparison. When, in your dotage, you look back upon your life and adventures, this is the day that glows in your memory like a precious gem, outshining all others, never to be forgotten.\n\nThe day after that you get into a fight with a giant slug. By dint of your efforts you gain a magical hat which accurately reproduces in the mind of its wearer the mental state of a teenager with a crush.\n\n[[WEAR THE HAT|You are a Teenager with a Crush]],\n[[CONTINUE FOLLOWING THE MAP, LEAVING THE HAT BEHIND|Nothing Bad Will Happen]] or\n[[CONTINUE FOLLOWING THE MAP|A Sort of Animated Cravat]]
You give up trying to escape from the Crazy Place, and instead become a teacher of escaping from the Crazy Place.\n\n''THE END''
You chase the kid down the corridor, forgetting about the wet floor. At the other end of the corridor is another sign: \n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">CAUTION FLOOR STILL WET<br>BY ORDER OF THE BOSS</div></center></html>\nBut the warning comes too late and you slip and slide and pile right into it. The sign revolves revealing it to be the entrance to a SECRET PASSAGE. \n\nOn the other side you can go \n<<<\na) [[East|Helter Skelter]], or \nii. [[West|A Ghastlorrible Smell]]\n<<<\n
You run screaming from the room, singing show tunes to calm your nerves.\n\n"Howdy neighbor, happy harvest," you cry triumphantly as you bound down the passageway. You feel your feet pounding to the rhythm, and alongside, the syncopated beat of Donald's size seventeen boots. Of Gentle Geoffrey, there is not a sound.\n\nBefore very long you are lost, wandering along a musty corridor that has obviously not been used for years. The walls of the corridor are black, but decorated with a pattern of luminous stars. Towards the end the passage widens out and you find yourselves at the entrance to a huge stone chamber. Crumbling stonework and grotesque gargoyles line the walls, and looking down you see that you are ankle deep in what appears to be mouldy semolina… \n\n'What a disgusting place!' you say, wading deeper into the semolina. On the other side of the chamber is the entrance to another passage, and you are just wondering whether it will be possible to wade across when there is a sudden movement in the semolina.\n \nA huge and terrifying monster rears its ugly head above the putrid dessert food. It has the head of a vulture, the eyes of a crab, the body of a flounder and the legs of a spider! And that's just its lunch; you should see what the monster looks like!\n\nChoose: \n\n#[[If you want to turn back|Dilemma!]], or \n#[[If you don't|You Hide Under The Circumstances]].\n\n\n\n
You roll up your sleeve and reach tentatively into the chest, receiving a painful slap on the wrist for your trouble. You pull your hand out quickly and [[wait for the mist to clear|A Pie in the Eye]].
The corridor ends at the entrance to an old and very rickety looking elevator. Having very little alternative, you call the lift, and when the great doors open you step inside. \n\n<<display 'Call the lift'>>
The tiny voice was not Donald's, but that of the ant, Paolo Pillow, who is standing on the end of Donald's nose. \n\n'We misunderstood you last time,' he says. 'If you want to get out of the Crazy Place, you will need a picture postcard of the Taj Mahal and a pair of nail clippers. Go through that door over there. It leads to the Bad Luck Room, and from there you go...' \n\n'No, no!' interrupts String-Bean Smith. 'That door over there doesn't lead to the Bad Luck Room! You want the door over there!' \n\nWhich door will you use? \n\n(1) [[That door over there|Hummock Room]], or (2) [[the door over there|The Bad Luck Room]]?
The burden of admiralty has proven to be too much for you. You cast the key back into the depths from whence it came, where it is immediately swallowed by a giant clam. The dragons of the eastern and western oceans and all your fishy minions bow and pay their last respects before diving back into the waves. As if by magic, the shopkeeper appears. \n\n<<display 'Go with the man from the shop'>>
You open your eyes and stand up, only to bang your head on the ceiling which is four feet from the floor. You are dazed and when you come to you can't remember the last four days of your life! Choose:\n<<<\n#[[If you wish to see a psychiatrist,|The Autodefenestration of Mr Biglet]]\n#[[To leave this rather cramped environment by the red door,|It's A Jungle In Here]] or \n#[[To leave by the orange door with purple spots.|A Spot of Bother]]\n<<<\n
The forest seems suddenly unfamiliar, as though the trees have been moved around by an army of scene-shifters. Two clearly defined paths are now visible, one leading [[south|The Fat Gnome's House]], and the other [[south-west|Footprints]].
"No, no, no!" cries Clarence, "You're holding it all wrong. Here, let me show you." Clarence takes the pickaxe from you and demonstrates how the professionals do it, while you take a quick breather. He gets a little carried away, and it's quite a while before he hands it back again.\n\nWill you [[keep digging the sugarface|The Motherlode]], or [[attempt to make a break for it|Don't Be Like That!]]?\n
"Rupert, who does your toenails?" you ask the armadillo.\n\n"Thanks for noticing," says the armadillo. "I use Nerys, at Angel's Hair and Nails on the High Street."\n\n"Better than these ragged old things. I just use a pair of toenail clippers, but they've gone rusty."\n\n"Try Angel's" says Rupert. "They're very reasonable."\n\n"Rupert Rupert save time for a cracker soup taking these shoes on holiday," you say. "Peeling off traffic berating Nerys."\n\n"I beg your pardon?"\n\n"Oh, I'm sorry, I must be suffering from [[deja vue|SATAN'S GROTTO]]."
You head South. <<display 'The North Pole'>>
You get a bit mixed up and go along the path. Must be the heat. Suddenly a terrible, horrible, fearsome tiger springs out from behind a potted palm. It is holding a knife and fork. 'Oh my!' you exclaim, 'suddenly everyone wants me for dinner! Well, I suppose one can't help being popular!' Will you: \n<<<\nA) [[Run like crazy|Howdy Neighbor, Happy Harvest!]], or \nB) [[Attack the tiger like even crazier|Gobbled Whole]]?\n<<<\n\n
That's not very nice. How would you like it if you were in there with him? Sloshing and spinning, whirring and churning, around and around in loops and revolutions, hypocycloid ablutions, soap suds up your nose and in your ears for what seem like years until...\n\n<<display 'Washed Away'>>
You read the next chapter of "Escape from the Crazy Place." It is extremely short. \n\nAt the end of the chapter you are presented with two choices: \n\n#[[Choice one|A Terrible Choice]].\n#[[Choice two|A Terrible Choice]].
You cover your eyes as you reach the peak of your climb into the skies, and emit an ear-piercing scream as you begin your descent. Because your eyes are closed, and you can't see through the reinforced glass of the helmet's visor, you fail to see your friend Donald below, who, seeing that you are wearing a suit of armour, is trying to rescue you using a magnet on the end of a fishing rod. \n\nToss a coin, and choose: \n<<<\n#[[If it comes up heads|Etruscan Fish-Knives]]\n#[[If it comes up tails|Coffee Break]]\n#[[If it lands on its edge|A Logical Bit]]\n<<<\n\n
You are so warm and comfortable that you drift off to sleep in an instant. Some hours later however you are woken by the sound of flapping wings. You suddenly remember the gas lighter, and on lighting it you realise that you have fallen asleep in a giant birds nest made of ticker tape. Above you, carved into the cliff are the words:\n\n<html><center><div class="boxed">SOMEONE'S GONNA GET THEIR HEAD PECKED IN TONIGHT!</div></center></html>\n[[Jump out of the nest|Four Hours Later]]\n[[Wait to see what happens|Newspaper Wings and a Cardboard Beak]]
Donald finds a rowing boat underneath a bogweed bush. You launch the boat hoping to be able to use it to cross the river. A moment or two later you realise that you don't have any oars. You are carried helplessly downstream until finally you reach the mouth of the river and are washed out to sea. Since you still don't have any oars, there is no way for you to reach land. At this point, Donald decides to start pulling the boat apart to see how quickly it will sink. \n\nWhat would you like to do? \n<<<\n#[[Help him|A Familiar Looking Mermaid]], or \n#[[Try to stop him|Things Fall Apart]]...\n<<<\n
You explain as best you can, but the three people wearing towels are not buying it. 'We don't want your explanation of the theory of relativity.' says one. 'We just want to know what you're doing with our clothes.' \n\n[[Drop the clothes and make a break for the door|Three Demented Washing Machines]]\n[[Drop the clothes and apologise|Puddle]]\n
<<display 'HIGH AND MIGHTY'>>\n\nYou decide to [[follow Donald up the Cow's leg|The Ill Health Gym]], and maybe never come down again.
First and foremost, never ever run away from your One True Love. Period. Full Stop. End Of.\n\nIf you happen across one on a hiking trail and turn your back and start running away like an olympic person, you will lose them for certain! Possibly forever! Or you might get eaten. \n\nUnfortunately for you, this advice came after you’d chosen to do exactly that so you run, run, run for the hills. \n\nYou see spectacular hair, smell and eyes fading into the distance each time you look back over your shoulder as you pelt it across the scrubland. \n\nThat *was* a close escape! \nImagine having to live a rose-tinted life with your heart and lungs constantly flip-flopping around inside your chest, imagine the smile that spreads your face as you come online every morning, waking up next to them - just smiling a daft grin simply from the joy of having their warmth near you. \n\n[[Continue running for the hills?|The Hills]]\n\n[[Stand firm?|Shhh!]]
You read the note, which turns out to be a note from The Boss reminding you to wind the clock, which you do. Then you notice that the note is written on the back of a banknote. On the front are printed the words 'I promise to pay the bearer on demand the sum of minus ten pounds.' You may add this note to your inventory, not forgetting to deduct ten pounds from the total cash you have collected on your travels. \n\nYou must now circumnavigate Plugalug once more in order to return to your former position. \n\nIf initially you travelled in a clockwise direction, you must travel [[anti-clockwise|The Scene Shifts]] to get back. Otherwise you must travel [[clockwise|The Scene Shifts]]. If you can't remember which way you went, it's [[a simple matter of deduction|A Simple Matter of Deduction]].
At one blow you sweep the whole monkey tribe off the counter top and onto the floor. Did I mention that they were pygmy marmosets, the smallest breed of monkeys in the world? Indeed, the largest of your assailants is a mere six inches from stem to stern. Nevertheless they are still capable of causing havoc. Now confined to the linoleum, one of the beasts makes off with your left shoe, whilst another removes the south-west part of your trousers.\n\nYou run after the monkey carrying your shoe, but he scuttles under the jukebox dragging it behind him.\n\n[[Try to retrieve your shoe from under the Wurlitzer|A Turkish Slipper]]\n[[Leave the bar before any more disasters befall you|An Olive Branch]]
"Good fight!" says Juglugs, rubbing his jaw and staggering slightly. "Here, have you met [[Plugalug]] yet?"\n\n
You lunge out with your fists at the invisible ogre. He also seems to be intangible, because you fall over landing on your nose. Lose 2 STAMINA points*. Donald grins. 'It was a joke about the invisible ogre!' he says. Suddenly there is a scream from the fat gnome, who is being carried off towards a large hole in the ground.\n\n'I say old chap, you couldn't help me out, could you? I seem to be in a spot of trouble here!'\n\n'It's too late for him! Save yourself,' squeaks Paolo Pillow. \n\n'If they catch you,' chirps String-bean Smith, 'the ants will miniaturise you, brainwash you and force you to work in the sugar mines!'\n\nWill you [[go to the aid of the fat gnome|Enslaved]], or [[leave him to his fate|A Fate Accompli]]?\n\n *To determine your STAMINA score, drop to the floor and start doing push-ups. Count one STAMINA point for every push-up you can do, until you collapse from exhaustion / a heart attack / boredom.
Fortunately there is just such a puddle at hand. You submerge your incandescent posterior in the freezing water for a moment until it is suitably soothed. At this moment Donald, sensibly seated upon a Hessian mat, slides smoothly off the end of the Helter Skelter to find you inexplicably sitting in a puddle. Thinking you to be playing a game of some sort, he snatches up a nearby bucket, fills it and pours it over your head. It is freezing.\n\n“D——n you, Donald, blood and 'ounds!” says you, cocking your hat to drain the water from the brim, “D——n you, you wantwit, you lackbrained oysterwench!”\n\n“A gentleman would forfeit all pretensions to that title,” says Donald in the universal language of mime, “who should choose to embellish his discourse with the oratory of Billingsgate, and converse in the style of an oyster-woman.”\n\n“I'll give you oysters!” you cry, leaping to your feet and flying at him, but the ground is wet and your next step finds you stretched along in the mud, your frock coat all smutted and besmirched.\n\nBut enough of this rigmarole! [[There is work to be done|Two Paths]].\n
What Donald doesn't realise is that although you are wearing a suit of armour, and suits of armour are generally made of cast-iron with wooden handles, the one you are wearing is the lightweight fiberglass model. Fiberglass is not usually attracted to magnets, choosing instead to plummet towards the ground in magnet vs. gravity situations. Luckily gravity, which has been labouring tirelessly to hold the Universe together for 13.798±0.037 billion years, has decided on this one occasion to look the other way. Hence, contrary to the laws of physics, or at any rate the gravity act, clause 1: "what goes up most probably comes down", the suit of armour is attracted to the magnet on the end of Donald's fishing rod and you are saved from certain death! \n\nHowever, your relief is short-lived - the mummy is still at large and heading your way with shuffling steps, arms outstretched ready to wring your scrawny neck! \n\nYou could try to escape by [[running eastwards along the battlements|Twiddly Widdly Widdly]], or by [[climbing down from the armoury roof|Losing Your Grip]].\n
The witch doctor's acupuncture technique is unusual to say the least. It involves a large cabinet with a hinged front and spike-covered interior called an iron maiden. It's all over in a jiffy this way ——— says the witch doctor ——— you won't feel a thing. \n\nWill you [[go ahead with the treatment|Iron Maiden]], or try one of the other remedies:\n<<display 'The List of Remedies'>>
"Come on Donald," you say, "time flies like an arrow, but no flies like Marmite. They either love it or hate it."\n\nYou go through the door amd run very fast, through hoops - you notice that Donald is running behind you attempting to smear Marmite upon your back. You grab the Marmite and hurl it as far as you can, but it stops mid-flight and turns to face you. \n\n"You humans," it says, "always the same. One minute you want some, the next it's the same old story. Man buys Marmite, Marmite falls in love, Man cheats on Marmite and so on. And on our wedding night too." \n\nChoose: \n\n#If you want to [[get out of this room|A Bad Dream]] as quickly as possible. \n#If you want to [[make it up to the Marmite|One Thing Leads To Another]] by having a nice cosy evening together in front of the fire.
Proceeding along this passage, which would seem to have been hewn from the rock by some desperate person using only their fingernails, you come eventually to a dimly lit, natural cave.\n\n<<display 'Behold! Enlightenment! Illumination!'>>\n\n
[[Oh, go on then|Stradivarius]].
You pick up the 'phone and find you are talking to a rep of The Crazy Place School of Motoring. Before you have time to protest you have been booked for a driving lesson with Donald as driver! 'Don't worry,' says the driving instructor, 'I can make anyone aim the car accurately after three lessons.' \n\nCHOOSE: \n<<<\n#[[If you commit suicide|Burgered]]\n#[[If not|Page 239!]]\n<<<\n
Upon seeing Donald on the stage you get up from your seat in the third row from the front, grab Donald by the arm and escort him swiftly to the wings. "Oh, for the wings of a dove!" you hum to yourself absent-mindedly. By sheer coincidence, a dove-like cooing can be heard from the rafters. Looking up you see a forlorn looking pigeon, disguised as a dove with talcum powder. It is sitting in a nest made from playing cards and silk handkerchiefs, and seems to be attempting to incubate a billiard ball. 'Must have escaped from the magician's act, just like us' you say to Donald.\n\nWill you: \n<<<\n(a) Try to [[tempt it down from its perch|99% Garbage]] with a piece of stale old hamburger, or \n(b) Ignore it and [[leave the stage|It's A Jungle In Here]] via an old prop door bearing the sign 'Beware of the tiger.' \n<<<\n\n\n