# vi: set ts=2 shiftwidth=2 expandtab:
#
# Load and run a version 4.00 game.
#
# This script implements the shadowvault walkthrough for To Hell in a Hamper.
# This is a popular game, with a good range of events and tasks, though not
# many NPCs.  It also uses variables and expressions, things that not all
# games make use of.
#
# The only edits made were to make randomized messages agree with those
# produced by SCARE's random number sequence.
#

~ game
*To Hell in a Hamper* Compiled "02 Aug 2003"* Version 4.00*

~
To Hell in a Hamper By J. J. Guest

With thanks to my beta-testers, Amby, Liz and Woodfish and to my brother
Dan for his many suggestions.

From the log of Professor Pettibone, eminent Victorian Balloonist:

Twenty-fourth of February, 1876. The English Channel.

Our Journey begins! A large crowd gathered this morning in Berkeley
Square as we made our final preparations for what is to be one of the
most daring expeditions ever undertaken; a journey around the world by
balloon. Our vessel, which I have christened Titania, consists of a
strong wicker basket borne aloft by a sealed balloon containing 30,000
cubic feet of hydrogen, an amount which, according to my calculations,
should be quite sufficient to carry myself, Mr. Booby and all of our
supplies and equipment. Mr. Booby is travelling with me as a last-minute
replacement for Doctor Cox, who was suddenly taken ill with a serious
case of the dreaded badly-bruised knees just days before the launch. At
eleven o'clock, amid cries of 'Huzzah!' I cut the ropes binding the
balloon to the earth and we soared aloft on the first leg of our
journey...

Press any key

Fourteenth of September, 1876. Fujian province, China.

I began to have my doubts about Mr. Booby almost as soon as the balloon
had made its ascent from berkeley Square. The instant we left the earth,
Mr. Booby got into such convulsions of nausea that I began to doubt his
credentials as a balloonist, and as a suitable replacement for poor Dr.
Cox, who was suddenly taken ill just days before our take-off.

Though I have expressed to him many times the importance of keeping the
weight of the balloon down to a minimum, I am beginning to suspect that
Mr. Booby has, against my wishes, been smuggling souvenirs of our
journey into the balloon under that great coat of his. Only this morning
I caught sight of him in a marketplace, haggling over the price of a
particularly ugly vase. He was not exactly a small man even before our
journey began, and he seems to grow progressively larger as our journey
goes on. There is something about that strange, mis-shapen coat of his
that arouses my suspicions.

Press any key

Twenty-sixth of June, 1877. The Ecuadorian Andes.

Our situation is desperate. A strong wind blows us ever closer to the
mouth of an erupting volcano. Our altitude is twelve thousand feet, and
in in spite of all my efforts, I am unable to raise the balloon any
higher. I have been forced to throw out all four sandbags, our food and
water supplies, our first-aid kit, our compass, variometer and
theodolite, and yet still we are too low to safely clear the volcano! In
a moment I shall be forced to throw out this very log-book, along with
the pencil I am writing with, and all my outer garments, in a last ditch
effort to gain the necessary altitude of twenty thousand feet.

Mr. Booby assures me that he has disposed of all unnecessary weight, and
yet somehow I doubt his veracity. If there is anything at all concealed
beneath that voluminous coat of his, I must find it now and dispose of
it over the side of the basket, or we are both doomed!

- Professor Pettibone, balloonist.

Press any key
*
I am in the basket of the balloon, high, though not high enough above
the foothills of the Andes. Directly ahead of us is a glow in the sky;
the heavens themselves seem to be ablaze as the wind carries us ever
nearer to an erupting volcano! Attached to the ropes that hold the
balloon aloft is a brass altimeter, the one and only piece of
aeronautical equipment that has not been sacrificed. The basket is
otherwise completely empty. Hubert Booby stands in the corner of the
basket, peering at me suspiciously.

~ resources
*Displaying Graphic "*Cotopaxi.jpg", offset 35373, length 44795*

> hints
How can we gain the necessary altitude to safely clear the volcano?
- You will need to make the balloon lighter.
- Try throwing stuff out!

> x hubert
Hubert is a man of prodigious girth, pasty and unhealthy looking with
slicked down hair and beady little eyes that follow you about. Hubert is
wearing a large, bulky overcoat and a shapeless felt hat.

> x overcoat
Hubert habitually wears this huge black overcoat. It seems to have been
designed with only a small breast pocket, but a larger side pocket has
been crudely stitched to the side. The overcoat is bursting at the
seams; it is buttoned up but the buttons threaten to pop off under the
strain. The occasional slight movement from within the bulk suggest
something untoward is going on in there...

> x side pocket
A large pocket that seems not to have been part of the coat's original
design. Despite Hubert's protestations, I am able to take a quick peek
at its contents, which appear to consist of a tin box and a rubber mallet.

> get tin box
In spite of Hubert's feeble efforts to stop me, I am able to wrest the
sewing kit from the side pocket of his coat.

> get rubber mallet
Before Hubert has time to react, I snatch the rubber mallet from the
side pocket of his coat.

> x breast pocket
A small pocket on the front of the overcoat. The corner of a
handkerchief can be seen poking out of Hubert's breast pocket.

> get handkerchief
I take hold of the corner of the handkerchief and tug, whereupon, like
some infernal conjouring trick, the one handkerchief is attached to
another, and another, until I am holding a huge bundle of coloured
handkerchiefs all tied together at the corners. 'Leave those alone!'
protests Hubert, 'my Aunt Gertie will be very annoyed when she finds out
you've stolen my hankies!'

> open tin box
I open the sewing kit, finding inside a pair of sharp scissors, a ball
of yarn and a needle.

# SCARE requires that you explicitly take the scissors first.
> take scissors
I take the pair of sharp scissors from the sewing kit.

> cut buttons with scissors
As soon as Hubert sees me approaching with the scissors he
understandably backs away, but in the confines of the balloon I soon
have him cornered. His vigourous attempts to fend me off are quite
inneffectual.

With a deft movement of the wrist I succeed in cutting through the tough
thread that binds each button to the coat. As I do so each button flies
off like a speeding bullet, and finally, with a great rending sound the
coat bursts open, spilling a multitude of diverse objects onto the floor
of the basket! These items consist of a large framed painting, an
enormous carpetbag, a bundle of twigs, a boomerang, an ear-trumpet, a
toy donkey and a sleeping Saint Bernard dog...

> cut seams with scissors
I can't cut that.

> cut lining with scissors
I lunge with the scissors, slashing a large rent in the tartan fabric. A
colourful vase drops out onto the floor of the basket. 'You lunatic!'
shrieks Hubert, throwing up his hands in horror, 'My Auntie Gertie will
have to mend that now!'

> get vase
I pick up the Ting dynasty vase. 'Leave that alone!' cries Hubert.

> throw vase at hubert
I hurl the vase at Hubert's head - it shatters releasing a tiny metal
key from within!

'You maniac!' cries Hubert, rubbing his head, 'that vase was a present
for my Aunt Gertie!'

> get key
I pick up the tiny metal key.

> x carpetbag
This is by far the largest example of a carpetbag I have ever seen! It
must contain enough carpet to carpet the Taj Mahal! The carpetbag is
padlocked.

> unlock carpetbag
I unlock the carpetbag with the tiny metal key, tossing the padlock over
the side of the basket. The bag falls open to reveal, to my
astonishment, a pair of underpants, a trombone, and what appears to be
an Egyptian mummy still in its original wrappings!

> get underpants
I gingerly remove the pair of underpants from the carpetbag.

> throw underpants
I toss the underpants over the side of the balloon. A warm air current
sends them floating off into the distance. 'You idiot!' cries Hubert,
his eyes wide as coal-holes, 'My Aunt Gertie was very insistent that I
always have clean underwear - I've been wearing my other pair ever since
this infernal trip began!'

The equilibrium of a balloon in the air is so sensitive that the loss of
an almost insignificant weight can produce a very appreciable
displacement. In this instance, the balloon gains around one hundred
feet in altitude.

> get mummy
I carefully lift the Egyptian mummy from the carpetbag and heave it over
my shoulder. 'I wouldn't touch that if I were you,' says Hubert 'it's
cursed!'

> throw mummy
I heave the mummy over the side of the balloon and watch as it plummets
earthwards.

Unburdening the balloon of this large, heavy object causes a sudden and
immediate gain in altitude of one thousand feet. As the mummy disappears
from sight the sky seems to darken; the light alpine cloud coalesces
into forbidding thunder clouds. The ominous silence is broken by a
piercing shriek like that of an exotic bird...

'Now you've done it!' cries Hubert, shaking like a leaf and paler than
ever, 'We're both doomed now. Did I not tell you about...
...THE CURSE OF THE BLUE IBIS[?]'

> get smudge stick
I pick up the smudge stick.

> get donkey
I pick up the toy donkey. 'That doesn't belong to you!' exclaims Hubert.

> throw donkey
I fling the toy donkey over the side of the balloon and watch as it
spirals to Earth. 'You maniac!' screams Hubert, wringing his hands and
quivering all over like an oversized lemon jelly. 'The shopkeeper
assured me that donkey was one-of-a-kind!'

Unburdening the balloon of this quite large and heavy object causes a
sudden and immediate gain in altitude of seven hundred feet.

> get painting
I pick up the large framed painting. 'Put that down at once!' cries Hubert.

> throw painting
Without hesitation I fling the painting over the side, thereby
consigning that artistic abberration to oblivion. It seems the kindest
thing to do.

'You imbecile!' cries Hubert, tearing out great clumps of his own hair,
'I bought that painting to adorn the walls of my dear Aunt Gertie's
drawing room. You'll pay for this!'

Unburdening the balloon of this quite large and heavy object causes a
sudden and immediate gain in altitude of seven hundred feet.

> get ear-trumpet
I pick up the ear-trumpet.

The Blue Ibis gives a piercing cry as it draws closer and closer to the
balloon...

> x coat
Hubert habitually wears this huge black overcoat. It seems to have been
designed with only a small breast pocket, but a larger side pocket has
been crudely stitched to the side. The overcoat is flapping open,
revealing an inside pocket. The tartan lining is badly torn. For all I
know there may be still more hidden inside this incredible garment.

> x inside pocket
A small pocket in the lining of Hubert's overcoat. The inside pocket
contains a cigarette lighter and a hatchet.

As it reaches the envelope of the balloon, the Blue Ibis rises sharply,
momentarily disappearing from sight.

> get lighter
I reach inside Hubert's overcoat and retrieve the lighter. 'Stop!
Thief!' yells Hubert, presumably in the hope of attracting the attention
of the local constabulary.

> burn smudge stick
[[]light smudge stick[]]
I light the smudge stick with the cigarette lighter, then blow it out,
allowing the scented smoke to waft around the balloon. It could be my
imagination, but from somewhere I hear the distant sound of drums and a
Shoshone medicine man chanting. From above there is a raucous shriek,
and I look up to see the Blue Ibis vanish into the sweet smelling smoke
like something out of a dream...

Red hot embers fly from the smudge stick...

> throw smudge stick
I toss the burning smudge stick over the side of the balloon.

The equilibrium of a balloon in the air is so sensitive that the loss of
an almost insignificant weight can produce a very appreciable
displacement. In this instance, the balloon gains around one hundred
feet in altitude.

> get trombone
I take the trombone from the carpetbag.

> x trombone
A rather battered, but still serviceable trombone. The trombone appears
to have something wedged in its funnel.

> hit hubert with trombone
I bash Hubert over the head with the trombone, whereupon a cricket ball
pops out of the funnel.

> get cricket ball
I pick up the cricket ball.

> put ear-trumpet in dog's ear
I put the ear-trumpet in the Saint Bernard's ear.

> blow trombone
I place the trombone to my lips and blow. It emits a few strangulated
notes. The St. Bernard, upon hearing this leaps four feet into the air,
sending the ear-trumpet flying into space. He seems to be fully alert now!

> get hatchet
I reach inside Hubert's overcoat and retrieve the hatchet from his
inside pocket, immediately recognising it as my own!

> x basket
A strong and resilient wicker basket. On the side is a label bearing the
words 'PROPERTY OF THE LAUNDRY DEPARTMENT, REGENT PALACE HOTEL,
PICADILLY.' When I explained the scientific nature of my voyage, the
magistrate was very understanding. Not only did he not send me to jail,
he also let me keep the basket. It had nothing whatever to do with the
promise I made him to bring back a large case of Cuban cigars. Pity I
had to throw them overboard with everything else...

The anchor rope is hanging over the side of the basket.

> cut anchor rope with hatchet
I hack through the anchor rope with the hatchet and watch as the anchor
tumbles to earth.

Unburdening the balloon of this quite large and heavy object causes a
sudden and immediate gain in altitude of seven hundred feet.

> x hat
Hubert's hat looks as though it might once have belonged to an admiral,
but it has lost much of its shape and the gold broccade is hanging off.
When Hubert sees me eyeing his hat he reaches up and clutches the brim
protectively. 'There's nothing concealed under here, I promise you!' he
says.

# Suppress picking up the boomerang for SCARE; this exceeds weight limits.
# Limits can also be exceeded later on, but by dropping an unnecessary item
# here, then picking it up later, we seem to be able to get round this.
#> get boomerang
#I pick up the boomerang.
> drop sewing kit

> throw cricket ball at hat
With a graceful arm movement I hurl the cricket ball at Hubert's hat. He
tries to duck but I had anticpated this and accounted for it in my
trajectory. The ball knocks the hat clean off his head before rebounding
and landing on the floor of the basket. The hat drops to the floor with
a heavy thump. As it hits the floor a large cuckoo clock, which Hubert
had been concealing there, drops out and lands by my feet. The clock
immediately begins to chime...

The clock chimes five times. 'CUCKOO! CUCKOO! CUCKOO! CUCKOO! CUCKOO!'

> get clock
I pick up the cuckoo clock. 'Leave that alone!' cries Hubert.

> throw clock
I hurl the cuckoo clock over the side of the basket. It continues to
chime long after it has disappeared into the wreath of thin cloud that
hovers below us.

'You maniac!' screams Hubert, shuddering like a Quaker. 'That clock was
to have adorned the kitchen wall of my dear Aunt Gertie. Its hourly
chiming would have reminded her when it was time to make my tea, run my
bath and a thousand other duties incumbent upon her as my legal guardian!'

The balance between the weight of the balloon and the lift provided by
the gas is so delicate that jettisoning even a very light object causes
an immediate vertical displacement. In this instance, the balloon gains
around five hundred feet in altitude.

> get cricket ball
I pick up the cricket ball.

> throw cricket ball
I throw the cricket ball (overarm, naturally) over the side of the
basket, giving it plenty of topspin. It whistles off into the clouds,
closely followed by the St. Bernard, which, like any dog, cannot resist
chasing a thrown ball. Through a gap in the clouds I see the hapless
hound land safely in a snow-drift. At least he will be able to dig
himself out.

Unburdening the balloon of this large, heavy object causes a sudden and
immediate gain in altitude of one thousand feet.

> throw mallet
I fling the mallet over the side of the basket. 'You lunatic!' yells
Hubert, stamping his feet in distraction. 'That was an extremely useful
mallet - I used it every day at breakfast to crack open my boiled eggs!'

The balance between the weight of the balloon and the lift provided by
the gas is so delicate that jettisoning even a very light object causes
an immediate vertical displacement. In this instance, the balloon gains
around five hundred feet in altitude.

> throw hatchet
Reluctantly I throw my newly recovered hatchet over the side of the
basket. It was a short-lived re-aquaintance, but a profitable one!

The balance between the weight of the balloon and the lift provided by
the gas is so delicate that jettisoning even a very light object causes
an immediate vertical displacement. In this instance, the balloon gains
around three hundred feet in altitude.

> throw trombone
Having no further use for it, I cast the trombone out of the basket.
Hubert merely sighs and rolls his eyes at me.

The balance between the weight of the balloon and the lift provided by
the gas is so delicate that jettisoning even a very light object causes
an immediate vertical displacement. In this instance, the balloon gains
around five hundred feet in altitude.

'THAT DOES IT!' shrieks Hubert, shaking his tiny fists at me in
exasperation. 'That's the last straw. You've really done it this time.
I'm going to tell my Aunt Gertie on you!'

'Oh, and I suppose you have your Aunt Gertie secreted away in that
incredible overcoat of yours as well...' I say, mockingly.

'Yes,' says Hubert, 'as a matter of fact I have. You didn't think I'd
leave her at home all on her own, do you[?]' After much squirming and
wriggling, a tiny little old lady emerges from the overcoat.

'What is it, Hubert dear[?]' she asks...

''Tain't right,' mutters Aunt Gertie distractedly, 'it oughtn't to be
allowed!' She gives me a crack across the shins with her cane, just for
the hell of it.

# Explicitly take the needle and thread from the sewing kit dropped
# earlier; required by SCARE but not, apparently, by the Adrift Runner.
> take needle, take thread

> make parachute
Fortunately I was taught to sew by the overbearing nuns who educated me
in that convent school. Stitching the handkerchiefs together I soon
construct a parachute strong enough to support a reasonably lightweight
person.

> tie parachute to gertie
I wait 'til her back is turned, and swiftly tie the parachute to her
apron strings!

> push gertie
With a hearty shove, I push the old crone over the edge of the basket.
The parachute on her back opens instantly, slowing her rate of descent
so that she drifts to earth as gently as a dandelion seed.

My command of the English language is, alas, inadequate to describe the
look on Hubert's face as he watches his beloved aunt disappear into the
void. Lost for words, he struggles to come up with one final snipe:

'You... you... you... LOONY!' before leaping after her. The great black
overcoat billows out around him like his very own parachute.

Unburdened of Hubert's enormous weight, the balloon begins to ascend
with breathtaking rapidity. Within seconds we have passed 20,000 feet,
then 25,000, then 30,000, at which point I am seized with asphyxia, I
lose power to my legs and arms and I begin to lose consciousness...

I have just one chance. Unless I speedily descend, ALL IS LOST!

> pull gas valve rope
The last thing I remember before passing out is falling upon the gas
valve rope and pulling down on it with all the strength remaining to me...

Press any key

Excerpt from 'To Hell in a Hamper, Travels by Balloon with a Buffoon' by
Prof. P. Pettibone, Oxford University Press, 1895.

"...when my senses returned to me the volcano was far behind me. The
balloon had come to rest on the slopes of the lower Andes. There I was
found, frostbitten and in a state of nervous exhaustion, by a party of
lama herdsmen. I had reached the incredible altitude of 37,000 feet and
had lived to tell the tale.
Without the means to replace my supply of hydrogen further travel by
balloon was impossible. When I had recovered fully I travelled to Quito
by pack horse, and from there arranged passage to England by land and
sea. The journey was uneventful, but my trials were not yet over. There
was the small matter of a Rembrandt painting stolen from the Louvre the
previous year, and the desecration of an Egyptian tomb. Fortunately I
was able to absolve myself of blame for both these crimes, but it was a
great shame that Hubert was not around to be held accountable for his
actions.
The Rembrandt, fortunately, was not one of his better pieces, owing to a
lapse of judgement on the part of the master in his choice of subject
matter. It is generally agreed that the great artist's reputation has
benefitted, rather than suffered for the loss of 'Three Kittens in a
Chamber Pot.'
The mummy was a different matter however. It turned out to have been the
corpse of Imhotep, architect of the Great Pyramid. The Egyptian
government were most upset to learn that the builder of thier most
exalted monument was last seen tumbling towards a hasty reburial on the
frozen slopes of the Andes. As I understand it, negotiations between the
British, Egyptian and Ecuadorian governments are still ongoing with
regard to the mummy's recovery and safe return to its tomb.
As for Hubert and his disagreeable Aunt Gertie, I never saw them again.
However, a party of Germans trekking in the foothills of the Andes five
years later reported seeing a large fat man and an old woman who lived
together in a stone hut with a Saint Bernard dog. According to the
Germans, the pair spoke fluent English, but what they said made little
sense. She kept muttering something about 'clean underwear' and he did
nothing all day but lament the loss of a cuckoo clock.
I myself retired from ballooning in 1890, having travelled in nearly
every country in the world. I am now dedicated to submarine exploration,
in which science I am swiftly becoming the world's foremost authority."

THE END

~ game
*Completed*