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config.header.right: "TWINEFOOLERY by John C. Knudsen"
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{embed image: 'foolery_title.jpg', alt: 'Title Image'}<p>
<b>Please enter your name of choice in the box below:</b><p>
{text input for: 'name'}<p>
In the far away Land of <i>IF</i>, there is a curious place called <i>Genre</i>. The town is laid out in a hook shape, at the base of Macro Mountain. Railroad tracks run through the middle of the town. On one side of the tracks live the Twiners; on the other, the Parsers. The Twiners [[barely tolerate|2]] the Parsers, and vice versa.<p>
A <i>satirical</i> tribute to Twine authors and IF purists everywhere.<p>
<i>“Talent is cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work.”</i> - Stephen King<p>
<hr>
<center><b>TWINEFOOLERY<br>
by John C. Knudsen<br>
2020</b></center>
<hr>
Written in Twine 2.37 and Chapbook 1.0.<p>
Your feedback is welcome! You can contact the author at:<br>
<center> knudsenjohnc@hotmail.com</center>The origin of the dispute between the Parsers and the Twiners is the stuff of legends, apparently...<p>
<b>The Daily Passage<br>
Linear, The Land of IF</b><p><p>
{name}, you are an investigative reporter for <i>The Daily Passage,</i> the largest newspaper in the Land of IF. You are based in the sprawling city of <i>Linear</i>, about fifty miles from Genre. Your editor, Redd Herring, has given you the assignment of investigating some strange happenings in Genre. Mr. Herring expects you to complete your assignment in two weeks. You have never visited the place.<p>
> [[Review the information you have gathered so far.|4]]
> [[Drive to Genre immediately.|3]]
> [[Visit the Linear Public Library to do some research.|5]]
{embed passage: '18'}<b>The Daily Passage</b><p>
The feud between the Parsers and the Twiners has to do with the purity of Art. In the Land of IF, <i>interactive fiction</i> is the national pastime, much like soccer is to Europeans and most of the rest of the world. The people of IF are highly educated, and take great pride in their pastime. The town of Genre is the only known nest of conflict in the entire Land. There have been rumors of physical altercations, unlawful confinements, and bizzare town ordinances. There could be an explosive story here. That’s where you come in.<p>
> [[Drive to Genre immediately.|18]]
> [[Visit the Linear Public Library to do some research.|5]][if random.coinFlip]
{embed passage: '6'}
[else]
{embed passage: '7'}<b>Linear Public Library</b><p><p>
Gerta Grue has been the head librarian for almost 35 years. She is known as the <i>Battle-Axe</i> because of her dictatorial ways. Unlike fine wine, age has not mellowed her. She scares children and adults equally.<p>
"Where is your library card, {name}?" Ms. Grue demands, as you enter the library. <i>This is the only library you know of that requires a card for <b>entry</b>.</i><p>
"Good morning, Ms. Grue - I have it right here," you show her the card, all the while smiling warmly. She frowns and lets you enter. Time to do some [[detailed research.|9]]<p><b>Linear Public Library</b><p><p>
Gerta Grue has been the head librarian for almost 35 years. She is known as the <i>Battle-Axe</i> because of her dictatorial ways. Unlike fine wine, age has not mellowed her. She scares children and adults equally.<p>
"Where is your library card, {name}?" Ms. Grue demands, as you enter the library. <i>This is the only library you know of that requires a card for <b>entry</b>.</i><p>
"Good morning, Ms. Grue - I have it right here." You reach into your wallet for the card, all the while smiling warmly. It isn't in your wallet - curses! "I had it in here," you plead. "No one is admitted to the library without their library card," Grue says, while pointing to the sign to that effect at the entrace. "No exceptions."<p>
You [[turn away|8]] in frustration.<p><b>The Daily Passage</b><p><p><p><p>
You arrive back to the office to check your desk for the card.<p>
"Looking for this?" Daemon Bottleneck is waving your library card in front of you, with a grin on his face. "Where did you get that?" you ask, obviously annoyed. "Some putz left it near the copy machine - you're lucky I didn't throw it in the trash," he bloviates. You try and grab it out of his hand, but he is too fast and jerks it away from you. "Imagine having to get a replacement from old <i>Grue-some</i> - what's it worth to you, {name}?" he asks.<p>
Your blood pressure is rising. Do you:<p>
> [[Fight Daemon to get your card back.|13]]
> [[Pay Daemon ransom for your card which is being held hostage.|14]]
> [[Reason with Daemon to return the card.|15]]
> [[Walk away from Daemon and forget the card.|16]]<b>Linear Public Library</b><p><p>
You find a book called <i>The Land Of IF</i>. You sit down in a cubicle and open the chapter on the town of Genre.<hr>
<i>The town of Genre was founded by a group of people known as the Parsers in 1975. In 2009, an immigrant group known as the Twiners started moving into town. Twiners did not act like Parsers, and this formed the seeds of strife. Animosity grew between the two groups. In 2014, the more numerous Parsers built a railroad which split the town in two - on one side of the track lived Parsers, on the other Twiners. Since that time, conflict between the two groups has been increasing...</i><hr>
[[Continue your research.|10]]<p><b>Linear Public Library</b><p><p>
In the Land of If newspaper archives, you find the following story:<hr>
<i>June 6, 2016. A Genre man was convicted of violating a local ordinance on Friday. Smedley Links was convicted of Ifslaughter, an offense unknown outside of that town. Links, a Twiner, constructed an interactive fiction game that was terrible, and greatly offended all the decent citizens of Genre. He was sentenced to thirty days in the Genre Jail. The prosecutor, Ian Hook, presented as evidence at the trial the [[following extract|11]] from the released game.</i><hr><b>Linear Public Library</b><p><p><hr>
<i>"Monster axeually extra very good. Understund you. Not kill, try too hug. Like grandmather used to doo. You emb-race monstor, than smileing and laffing all around. THEE END,"</i><hr>
Difficult to comprehend, or understand, but <b>Ifslaughter</b>? Thirty days in jail? You resolve to do a proper investigation of the situation in Genre. It is time to [[drive there.|12]]<p><b>In your car, traveling to Genre.</b><p><p>
Your trip to Genre is uneventful, and only takes an hour or so.<p>
<b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
Your first stop is the jail. You go into the office and the Deputy greets you. "Hello - can I help you?" He is friendly enough. "Hello, Deputy. My name is {name}, and I am a reporter for the Daily Passage newspaper in Linear." "Pleased to meet you - I'm Moxley Clue, the jailer here."<p>
"I'm doing a story about Parsers and Twiners, and the town of Genre. I was wondering if you had any Twiners in the jail?" "Sure do - I've got a real live one down in the basement - follow me." You follow the Deputy down to the basement. He shows you a cell with a man in it. "This is Cal Crossroad, a Twiner. Stay as long as you want." The Deputy goes back upstairs.<p>
[[Continue.|37]]<p><b>The Daily Passage</b><p><p><p><p>
Daemon Bottleneck is six foot three, weighs two hundred and twenty pounds, looks like a weightlifter, and works at the Sports Desk. You, on the other hand, are five foot six, weigh about a hundred and forty pounds, and wear thick glasses.<p>
Despite the long odds, you lunge at him over the desk. "Give me that card - I need it for an assignment," you shreik. Daemon easily parrys your thrust and slaps you hard in the face. "Don't get cute, bug - or I will crush you," he says with a chortle.<p>In the nick of time, Redd Herring walks by the office in the hallway. "Don't you juveniles have some work to do?" he asks. "Yes, boss!" you both say in unison. "Good - then I suggest you both get to it." You look at Daemon and try to [[reason|15]] with him.<p><b>The Daily Passage</b><p><p><p><p>
"Okay, Daemon - what's it gonna cost to get my card back?" you ask. "Let's see - I'm thinking that twenty bucks ought to do it. You owe me that much for saving it from the trash. Yeah, twenty bucks for beer money ought to do it." he is smiling, as usual.<p>
"Twenty bucks - you have got to be kidding!" you respond.<p>
"Nope, that's the price. Take it or leave it." He is positively happy with his cleverness. You, not so much...<p>
"All right, you pirate," you say with disdain. You toss him a twenty dollar bill from your wallet. He hands you the library card. You vow to get even with him at a later time. After wasting so much time, it is high time to visit the [[library.|17]]<p>
<b>The Daily Passage</b><p><p><p><p>
"Come on, Daemon - I need that library card," you plead. "I know it, bug." he replies. You don't care for that nickname at all, but you bite your lip. You are slowly boiling over with anger inside.<p>
> [[Fight Daemon to get your card back.|13]]
> [[Pay Daemon ransom for your card which is being held hostage.|14]]
> [[Walk away from Daemon and forget the card.|16]]<b>The Daily Passage</b><p><p><p><p>
<i>I don't need no stinkin library card,</i> you think to yourself as you head out to the parking lot to [[get in your car for the trip.|18]]<p><b>Linear Public Library</b><p><p>
"Where is your library card {name}?" Ms. Grue demands, as you reenter the library.<p>
"Good morning, Ms. Grue - I have it right here," you show her the card, all the while smiling warmly. She frowns and lets you enter. Time to do some [[detailed research.|19]]<p><b>In your car, traveling to Genre.</b><p><p>
You are glad to be away from the stress, and on your way to Genre.<p> Since it is about lunchtime, you decide to stop in <i>Diegesis,</i> which is a town a little more than halfway between Linear and your final destination.<p>
Diegesis is a small town of perhaps two thousand inhabitants. Its main industry is tourism. People come from far and wide to view its main attraction - <i>the largest ball of twine in the world.</i> You never really got enthused about that - it is, after all, just a big ball of twine. Still, there is a greasy spoon diner there that has wonderful food.<p>The <i>Fourth Wall</i> is a popular diner always packed with hungry customers. Your stomach is growling as you pull into the diner parking lot. Time to [[get something to eat!|22]]<p><b>Linear Public Library</b><p><p>
You find a book called <i>The Land Of IF</i>. You sit down in a cubicle and open the chapter on the town of Genre.<hr>
<i>The town of Genre was founded by a group of people known as the Parsers in 1975. In 2009, an immigrant group known as the Twiners started moving into town. Twiners did not act like Parsers, and this formed the seeds of strife. Animosity grew between the two groups. In 2014, the more numerous Parsers built a railroad which split the town in two - on one side of the track lived Parsers, on the other Twiners. Since that time, conflict between the two groups has been increasing...</i><hr>
[[Continue your research.|20]]<p><b>Linear Public Library</b><p><p>
In the Land of If newspaper archives, you find the following story:<hr>
<i>June 6, 2016. A Genre man was convicted of violating a local ordinance on Friday. Smedley Links was convicted of Ifslaughter, an offense unknown outside of that town. Links, a Twiner, constructed an interactive fiction game that was terrible, and greatly offended all the decent citizens of Genre. He was sentenced to thirty days in the Genre Jail. The prosecutor, Ian Hook, presented as evidence at the trial the [[following extract|21]] from the released game.</i><hr><b>Linear Public Library</b><p><p><hr>
<i>"Monster axeually extra very good. Understund you. Not kill, try too hug. Like grandmather used to doo. You emb-race monstor, than smileing and laffing all around. THEE END,"</i><hr>
Difficult to comprehend, or understand, but <b>Ifslaughter</b>? Thirty days in jail? You resolve to do a proper investigation of the situation in Genre. It is time to [[drive there.|18]]<p><b>The Fourth Wall</b><p><p>
The decor here is rather strange. I suppose you could call it that <i>1970's Chess Tournament</i> look. The small tables are painted with chess boards on the surface. The black walls are covered with paintings of chess pieces, and the floor is white. Taken all together, a rather odd diner - probably unique in the Land of If. There is a sign on the wall by the cash register that says <b>NO CHESS-PLAYING ALLOWED.</b> You suppose chess-playing would keep customers in their seats for far too long, but that is speculation on your part.<p>
The place is nearly full. You see an empty chair near the front and sit down and look at the menu. The <i>Chess Chili con carne</i> looks good, but so does the <i>Pawn Pizza.</i> Decisions, decisions...<p>
The waitress comes by to take your order. Her name tag says "Hello, my name is Caissa."</i> How ironic is it, you muse, that your waitress has the same name as the Goddess of Chess? You decide to order the [[chili with a side of salad.|23]]<p>
<b>The Fourth Wall</b><p><p>
As you wait for your order to arrive a weird looking guy comes from the restroom in the back and stops in front of your chair.<p>
"You are in my seat - get up!" he shouts. "I beg your pardon," you respond, "I've been here for about ten minutes, and have already ordered my food." "My name is Dexter Otter, and this is my seat!" "Nice to meet you. My name is {name}, and, since I am occupying this seat, I guess you will have to find another one." You glare at each other.<p> You scan the table to see what you might use to defend yourself, if need be. Probably best to think ahead, just in case. You choose, in your mind, one of the following items to use as a weapon:<br>
{dropdown menu for: 'weapon', choices: ['salt shaker', 'pepper shaker', 'glass bottle of ketchup', 'glass bottle of hot sauce']}<p>
[[Continue.|24]]<p><b>The Fourth Wall</b><p><p>
"I'm going to pulverize you - I own this town, and my brother - <i>Big Ott,</i> is the owner of this diner." Dexter seems out of control. You take a closer look at him. He has more height and weight than you do, and has bad breath. You know that you could be seriously injured if his fighting skill matches his aggressive manners. But you cannot help replying, "Would you like a breath mint?"<p>
The nearby customers slowly retreat from their tables, gathering their food and watching the show. They act like this is common, normal behavior. Another bad sign... In the midst of all of this, Caissa brings your food and places it on the table.<p>
"Get ready for your beating," Dexter growls.<p>
> [[You throw the {weapon} at Dexter.|25]]
> [[You try to flee.|26]][if random.coinFlip]
{embed passage: '27'}
[else]
{embed passage: '28'}<b>The Fourth Wall</b><p><p>
You try and think of a distraction, so that you can flee.<p>
"So, I guess you won't be wanting that breath mint," you say as you jump up and run out of the door. Dexter is stunned for a moment, but then chases after you. He catches you halfway between the diner and your car. He beats you repeatedly with his fists. You crumple to the ground. You vaguely remember hearing the ambulance's sirens before you [[pass out.|30]]<p><b>The Fourth Wall</b><p><p>
You grab the {weapon} in a flash and hurl it at Dexter. It catches him squarely between the eyes. He crashes to the floor without saying anything. Lights out.<p>
Some of the customers start cheering, while others remain silent. You calmly eat your food with Dexter at your feet, unconscious. You leave ten dollars on the table, as well as a generous tip for Caissa. You get up to leave the diner, noticing all the while that the customers have that <i>who was that masked man?</i> look on their faces.<p>
You are almost to your car when the Sheriff pulls up next to you.<p>
"Howdy, stranger - you're under arrest for assault with a {weapon}. Hands behind your back." As you comply with the order, you notice the Sheriff's name tag - <i>Melton Otter.</i> Great, just great. Probably another brother or perhaps an uncle. [[You are placed in the Sheriff's vehicle.|29]]<br><b>The Fourth Wall</b><p><p>
You grab the {weapon} in a flash and hurl it at Dexter. He side-steps and it misses him and flies harmlessly past his head.<p>
"So, I guess you won't be wanting that breath mint," you blurt out as you jump up and run out of the door. Dexter is stunned for a moment, but then chases after you. He catches you halfway between the diner and your car. He beats you repeatedly with his fists. You crumple to the ground. You vaguely remember hearing the ambulance's sirens before you [[pass out.|30]]<p><b>In the Sheriff's vehicle.</b><p><p>
"Where are you taking me, Sheriff?" you ask. "Well, we don't have a jail in Diegesis, so I'm taking you to the one in Genre." he responds. "By the way, what is your name?" he adds. "My name is {name}." "Nice to meet you, {name}. My name is Melton Otter, and I'm the Sheriff of Diegesis."<p>
<i>What an interesting way to get to Genre,</i> you think. Well, maybe <b>not.</b><p>
You engage in inconsequencial chit-chat with Sheriff Otter on the way. It turns out that he is Dexter's uncle. After about half an hour, he pulls into the back entrance of the Genre Jail. You say goodbye as he turns you over to Moxley Clue, the Genre jailer.<p>
<b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
After he processes you, Deputy Clue tells you, "Let me show you to your accommodations, {name}. We want your stay to be an enjoyable one." You detect sarcasm in his voice, but say nothing. He leads you to a small cell in the basement. You feel depressed as you [[settle in.|31]]<p><b>Traversal Hospital<br>
Linear, The Land of IF</b><p><p>
You wake up in the hospital. Your doctor tells you that you have a concussion, three broken ribs, and a broken arm. You need at least
six weeks of convalescence. It is a good thing you have plenty of sick leave and a good insurance plan.<p>
You rest, and follow the orders of your doctor. You wonder, during this time, if you will ever get to Genre. Your boss, Mr. Herring, comes to visit you. Redd graciously allows you another two months to complete your investigation.<p>
After you recover completely, you resolve to [[try again.|1]]<p>
<b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
Your cell is about six by eight feet in size. In one corner, there is a small toilet and sink, in the other corner, a bed. Next to the bed is a small table with a chair. Above the table, there is a small window, which lets some natural light into the cell. A bare light bulb is on and is hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the room. It appears that there are five other cells in the basement. Several of them are unoccupied. At least they let you keep your notebook and a pencil. This is your new home.<p>
"Welcome to the finest hotel in Genre!" the fellow directly across from you says loudly. "Hello, I'm {name} from Linear." "I'm Cal Crossroad, from Genre." "What are you in for, {name}?" "Assault with a {weapon}," "How about you?" "I am charged with Ifslaughter," he replies.<p>
"You are a Twiner, I presume?" you ask. "Quite correct."<p>
[[Continue your conversation with Cal.|32]]<p><b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
"Cal, I'm a reporter from the Daily Passage. I'm here to investigate what is happening here in Genre. Perhaps you could help me." "I'm sure I could, {name}, what would you like to know?" "Could you share with me some of your latest IF, from your latest project? I mean, some of the writing?" "You bet I can - I have it memorized." Cal shares with you this passage:<hr>
<i>When the crew assembled on the gun deck in obedience to the call, the
sun was just disappearing beyond the edge of the distant horizon. Its
last rays entered the open port, showing to us the dead man's figure
outlined under an American flag. The body had been placed upon a grating
in front of an open port, and several men were stationed close by in
readiness to launch it into the sea.</i><hr>
"Quite well written," you say. "Thank you, I appreciate that."<p>
[[Continue.|33]]<p><b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
Cal gets serious and says, "That passage is from my latest game called <i>Aboard the Yankee.</i> By the way, that particular title is the one that is the basis of my charges." "Here is another passage:"<hr>
<i>As we stood at our stations surrounding Number Eight gun, I tried to
read the faces of my companions, to see if I could find in them traces
of worry or anxiety, or of fear. The situation warranted even the latter
emotion. The dim light cast by the nickering battle lanterns sent
fantastic shadows dancing over deck and bulkhead, and caused the men at
the guns to resemble, in their stained white working clothes, so many
gaunt spectres.</i><hr>
<i>This fellow can write all right,</i> you think to yourself. "Cal, can you tell me about the conflict between the Parsers and the Twiners?" " [[I sure can,|34]] he responds.<p>
<b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
"The basic bone of contention has to do with <b>form.</b> Parsers believe that parser-based interactive fiction is the only <b>proper</b> interactive fiction. Any other form is against every fiber of their being. So, when the Twiners came along, conflict was the result. The Twiners' main problem with the Parsers is their dogma. It's like a cult, and only Parsers can reach the promised land. The Parsers dismiss the Twiners every day. They treat them with disgust and disdain at every opportunity. Since the Parsers run this town, they can abuse Twiners without limit, through local ordinances. They've also whipped the townsfolk up into a proper frenzy - every day is <b>Bash A Twiner Day</b>."<p>
"I understand - when is your trial, Cal?" "Tomorrow morning at 9:00. I will be convicted, trust me."<p>
[[Continue.|35]]<p><b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
Your discussion with Cal continues for a couple of hours.<p>
Deputy Clue comes down with supper for Cal. "Here ya go, Twiner - nice slop for supper!" "Thank you, Deputy," Cal replies.<p>
<i>You wonder why there's no food for you.</i> "Anything for me, Deputy?" you ask. "No - nothing for you," he says flatly. "You've been bailed out. Get your stuff together, I'll be back in a few minutes." "Happily," you say with a grin on your face. <i>You think about Cal.</i><p>
"Cal, I'm going to cover your trial. We'll speak again later."<p>
"Sure thing, {name}. We'll talk later..."<p>
Deputy Clue returns and escorts you up the stairs and out the back door. You are surprised to see Redd Herring waiting for you. You [[speak|36]] with him.<p><b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
Redd Herring is hopping mad. "I don't want to discuss it with you. As a matter of fact, I don't want to speak with you at all." "Boss, I can explain everything..." He cuts you off mid-sentence with a dismissive wave of his hand. "There is a big story here, boss," you interject. "I know there is - listen to me. I'll take you over to the hotel. Give me your car keys, so that I can have your car picked up and brought to you. Let's get outa here." You follow him to his car and get in. You have enough sense to keep silent during the ride. He hands you a company cell phone and says, "You may need this." "Thank you, boss."<p>
[[You arrive at the hotel.|42]]<p><b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
"Welcome to the finest hotel in Genre!" the fellow says loudly. "Hello, I'm {name} from Linear." "What are you in for, Cal?" "I am charged with Ifslaughter," he replies.<p>
"Cal, I'm a reporter from the Daily Passage. I'm here to investigate what is happening here in Genre. Perhaps you could help me." "I'm sure I could, {name}, what would you like to know?" "Could you share with me some of your latest IF, from your latest project? I mean, some of the writing?" "You bet I can - I have it memorized." Cal shares with you this passage:<p>
[[Continue.|38]]<p>
<b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
<hr><i>When the crew assembled on the gun deck in obedience to the call, the sun was just disappearing beyond the edge of the distant horizon. Its
last rays entered the open port, showing to us the dead man's figure
outlined under an American flag. The body had been placed upon a grating
in front of an open port, and several men were stationed close by in
readiness to launch it into the sea.</i><hr>
"Quite well written," you say. "Thank you, I appreciate that."<p>
[[Continue.|39]]<p><b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
Cal gets serious and says, "That passage is from my latest game called <i>Aboard the Yankee.</i> By the way, that particular title is the one that is the basis of my charges." "Here is another passage:"<hr>
<i>As we stood at our stations surrounding Number Eight gun, I tried to
read the faces of my companions, to see if I could find in them traces
of worry or anxiety, or of fear. The situation warranted even the latter
emotion. The dim light cast by the nickering battle lanterns sent
fantastic shadows dancing over deck and bulkhead, and caused the men at
the guns to resemble, in their stained white working clothes, so many
gaunt spectres.</i><hr>
<i>This fellow can write all right,</i> you think to yourself. "Cal, can you tell me about the conflict between the Parsers and the Twiners?" " [[I sure can,|40]] he responds.<p><b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
"The basic bone of contention has to do with <b>form.</b> Parsers believe that parser-based interactive fiction is the only <b>proper</b> interactive fiction. Any other form is against every fiber of their being. So, when the Twiners came along, conflict was the result. The Twiners' main problem with the Parsers is their dogma. It's like a cult, and only Parsers can reach the promised land. The Parsers dismiss the Twiners every day. They treat them with disgust and disdain at every opportunity. Since the Parsers run this town, they can abuse Twiners without limit, through local ordinances. They've also whipped the townsfolk up into a proper frenzy - every day is <b>Bash A Twiner Day</b>."<p>
"I understand - when is your trial, Cal?" "Tomorrow morning, at 9:00. I will be convicted, trust me."<p>
[[Continue.|41]]<p><b>The Genre Jail</b><p><p>
Your discussion with Cal continues for a couple of hours.<p>
Deputy Clue comes down with supper for Cal. "Here ya go, Twiner - nice slop for supper!" "Thank you, Deputy," Cal replies.<p>
"Yes, thank you for your hospitality, Deputy," you say. The Deputy scurries off. <i>You think about Cal.</i><p>
"Cal, I'm going to cover your trial. We'll speak again later."<p>
"Sure thing, {name}. We'll talk later..."<p>
You go up the stairs and out the back door.<p>
You [[check in to your hotel.|51]]<p><b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
The Merciful Inn is on the Parser side of town. Your boss dumps you off and you go and get your room key from the front desk. What a day.<p>
What to do now?<p>
> [[Order room service.|43]]
> [[Sit down and reflect on the day so far.|44]]
> [[Do some more research.|45]]<b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
You are starving. Still, right now, you wouldn't be supporting this side of town with your business if you didn't have to. In the office, you actually saw a sign which said: <b>TWINERS MUST PRESENT THREE FORMS OF IDENTIFICATION.</b> There appears to be blatant discrimination going on here.<p>
You order a hamburger and some fries, and your meal arrives in about twenty minutes. It takes you less time than that to eat it.<p>
[[Do some more research.|45]]<p>
<b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p><hr>
<i>Without frustration you will not discover that you might be able to do something on your own. We grow through conflict.</i> - Bruce Lee<hr>
You can't remember when you've had a more frustrating day.<p>
[[Do some more research.|45]]<b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
You search the web on your cell phone for some parser-based IF.
You find an interesting example from the not so recent past:<p>
<i>\>EXAMINE BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>X BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>LOOK BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>TAKE BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>READ BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>GET BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>HELP<br>
I don't understand that.<p></i>
[[There's more.|46]]
<b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
Another recent example of parser-based prose:<hr>
<i>I hate wet and reiny days.<p>
It rained a lot in 1816.... a lot - like everyday; the weather in Europe was abnormally wet because it rained in Switzerland on 130 out of the 183 days from April to September. If I was Mary Shelley I might decide to write a book too. Afterall, it was the onnly thing you could do without TV or anything. She said that she "passed the summer of 1816 in the environs of Geneva...we occasionally amused ourselves with some German stories of ghosts... These tales excited in us a playful desire of imitation" So, people were stuck inside and bored. Mary Shelley decided to write a book becuase it was so awful outside. I can totally see her point, you know? I guess I would write a novel if there was nothing else to do.</i><hr>
[[You draw some conclusions.|47]]<p><b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
In your research of interactive fiction, you found numerous cases of dreadful prose. It mattered not one whit which authoring/publishing model was used. <center><b>AWFUL PROSE IS AWFUL PROSE!</center></b><p>
<i>That's it - broken down to the essentials.</i> No need to overthink this.<p>
As you are finishing your notes, there is a knock at your door. The guys from the office arrive with your car. You thank them, and tell them you cannot chat much, because you have so much to do. Thank goodness for that. You imagine the ribbing you will get later - there's no need to spend much time on that, <i>now</i>. You should probably go to sleep.<p>
> [[You sleep as much as you can.|48]]
> [[You stay up all night watching lawyer shows on TV.|49]]
> [[You go out cruising around in your car for no particular reason.|50]]
<b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
You sleep a deep sleep. You feel refreshed and ready to tackle the day. Your cell phone alarm wakes you at exactly 6:30 am. After taking a shower and getting dressed, you:<p>
> [[Order breakfast.|68]]
> [[Skip breakfast.|69]]<b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
You pop some popcorn and settle in for some serious lawyer shows on TV. This is life as it should be. All of your troubles are forgotten as you binge watch your shows. <i>This is indeed bliss,</i> you think to yourself.<p>
It's nearly 5:30 in the morning by the time you finally hit the sack. You sleep a deep sleep...<p>
<center><i>Time passes...</center></i><p>
You wake up about 10:30 am in shock. You've overslept! Oh, no! You missed Cal's trial. In a frenzy, you check your cell phone for local news. You learn that Cal was convicted of ifslaughter and sentenced to 90 days in jail. The Parsers are celebrating in the streets...<p>
Nothing to do now but [[try again.|1]]<p>
<b>Cruising The Back Roads Around Macro Mountain</b><p><p>
Life is good. You travel the back roads twisting around Macro Mountain. The night air is clean and your troubles seem far away. You decide to chance a trip to the top, which takes about 15 minutes. You reach the top and do a victory dance. While doing your victory dance, you stumble over a rock and break your leg. Imagine your horror when you realize that there is no cell reception where you are. Then you realize that you have two flat tires. You only have one spare. In despair, you construct a crutch of sorts and start hobbling down the mountain.<p>
By the time you travel down far enough for cell phone reception, it is already 11:00 the next morning. Cal's trial is long over. Checking your cell phone, you see that he was convicted of ifslaughter and sentenced to 90 days in jail. The Parsers are celebrating in the streets...<p>
After getting medical treatment, there is nothing to do but [[start over.|1]]<p><b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><hr>
<i>“Justice will not be served until those who are unaffected are as outraged as those who are.”</i> ― Benjamin Franklin<hr>
There is a major story here. It is up to you to figure out how to bring it to the people of the Land of IF.<p>
[[Do some more research.|55]]<b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
You are starving. Still, right now, you wouldn't be supporting this side of town with your business if you didn't have to. You order a hamburger and some fries, and your meal arrives in about twenty minutes. It takes you less time than that to eat it.<p>
[[Do some more research.|55]]<p><b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
The Merciful Inn is on the Parser side of town. You check in at the front desk. In the office, you see a sign that reads: <b>TWINERS MUST PRESENT THREE FORMS OF IDENTIFICATION.</b> There appears to be blatant discrimination going on here.<p>You head to your room and get settled in.<p>
What to do now?<p>
> [[Order room service.|52]]
> [[Sit down and reflect on the day so far.|53]]
> [[Do some more research.|54]]<b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
{embed passage: '55'}<p><b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
You search the web on your cell phone for some parser-based IF.
You find an interesting example from the not so recent past:<p>
<i>\>EXAMINE BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>X BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>LOOK BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>TAKE BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>READ BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>GET BOOK<br>
I don't understand that.<br>
\>HELP<br>
I don't understand that.<p></i>
[[There's more.|56]]
<b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
Another recent example of parser-based prose:<hr>
<i>I hate wet and reiny days.<p>
It rained a lot in 1816.... a lot - like everyday; the weather in Europe was abnormally wet because it rained in Switzerland on 130 out of the 183 days from April to September. If I was Mary Shelley I might decide to write a book too. Afterall, it was the onnly thing you could do without TV or anything. She said that she "passed the summer of 1816 in the environs of Geneva...we occasionally amused ourselves with some German stories of ghosts... These tales excited in us a playful desire of imitation" So, people were stuck inside and bored. Mary Shelley decided to write a book becuase it was so awful outside. I can totally see her point, you know? I guess I would write a novel if there was nothing else to do.</i><hr>
[[You draw some conclusions.|57]]<p><b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
In your research of interactive fiction, you found numerous cases of dreadful prose. It mattered not one whit which authoring/publishing model was used. <center><b>AWFUL PROSE IS AWFUL PROSE!</center></b><p>
<i>That's it - broken down to the essentials.</i> No need to overthink this.<p>
You should probably go to sleep.<p>
> [[You sleep as much as you can.|58]]
> [[You stay up all night watching lawyer shows on TV.|49]]
> [[You go out cruising around in your car for no particular reason.|50]]<b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
You sleep a deep sleep. You feel refreshed and ready to tackle the day. Your cell phone alarm wakes you at exactly 6:30 am. After taking a shower and getting dressed, you:<p>
> [[Order breakfast.|59]]
> [[Skip breakfast.|60]]<b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
You decide to order a large breakfast. It is brought to your room about fifteen minutes later. "Hi, what's your name?" you say to the young man who brings it. "My name is Tansel North." Tansel places your breakfast on the table. "I'm {name} - pleased to meet you. Say, are you a Parser?" "Yes, of course," Tansel answers. "How do you feel about Twiners?" "They are the worst. They are ruining this town. IF, and this place, would be a lot better off without them." You decide this conversation has run its course. You give Tansel a tip and thank him.<p>
As you settle down to eat your breakfast, you reflect on everything you have learned about this place.<p>
After about an hour, you decide it is time to head down to the courthouse. You want to [[get there early.|61]]<p><b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
Your stomach is queasy, so you decide to skip breakfast. There is much to do today. You take a look at your notes again, and reflect on the situation some more.<p>
After about an hour, you decide it is time to head down to the courthouse. You want to [[get there early.|61]]<p><b>The Genre Courthouse</b><p><p>
The courthouse is in a small brick building. There is only one courtroom there. In the hallway outside, you see several people milling about.<p>
You notice Cal standing in the hallway, with a woman dressed in a business suit. After shaking hands with Cal, you introduce yourself. "Hello, I'm {name}, from the The Daily Passage. Nice to meet you." "Oh, yes, Cal told me about you. My name is Vicky Variable, his attorney. It is good to see the major Press interested in what is going on here..."<p>
> [[Pull Vicky Variable aside and share your research with her.|62]]
> [[Look for the prosecutor.|63]]
> [[Head into the courtroom and take a seat.|65]]<b>The Genre Courthouse</b><p><p>
"I have some information and research to share with you - do you have a moment?" you ask the attorney. "Yes, but we don't have much time," she responds.<p>
You share everything you have learned with her. She takes a keen interest in what you have to say, and takes notes.<p>
"Thank you so much, {name} - this could be helpful." Vicky Variable turns away from you and rejoins Cal. They engage in some animated conversation.<p>
You notice, off in the corner, a well-dressed man carefully observing all three of you. <i>That must be the prosecutor</i> you think to yourself.<p>
> [[Go over and speak with the prosecutor.|63]]
> [[Head into the courtroom and take a seat.|64]]<b>The Genre Courthouse</b><p><p>
You approach the well-dressed man in the hallway.
"Are you Ian Hook, the prosecutor?" you ask. He nods yes. "Hello, I'm {name} from The Daily Passage..." Hook interrupts, "No statements to the press - I never comment on pending cases." With that, Hook abruptly leaves you and enters the courtroom.<p>
[[Head into the courtroom and take a seat.|64]]<b>The Genre Courthouse</b><p><p>
You find a seat in the back and settle down. You notice that the Twiners appear to be seated on your side of the courtroom, while the Parsers are seated on the other side.<p>
After the Judge, the Honorable <i>Higabottom Sitzfleisch</i>, enters the courtroom, the trial begins. The prosecutor and Vicky Variable make their opening statements. Vicky is particularly effective, making numerous points from the research that you gave her. The prosecutor frowns throughout her presentation.<p>
You notice that the Parser crowd is slowly getting nervous, shifting back and forth in their seats. Another good sign.<p>
The trial lasts all of one hour. At the end of the prosecution's case, the defense makes a motion for aquittal, due to lack of evidence.<p>
Judge Sitzfleisch ponders a few moments and grants the motion without even hearing final arguments. Victory!<p>
[[Postscript.|66]]<p>
<b>The Genre Courthouse</b><p><p>
You find a seat in the back and settle down. You notice that the Twiners appear to be seated on your side of the courtroom, while the Parsers are seated on the other side.<p>
The Judge comes in and the trial gets started. After the preliminary arguments, the trial lasts about forty-five minutes. Cal's attorney argued the unlawfulness of <i>Ifslaughter</i>, to no avail. He was routinely convicted and sentenced to 90 days in jail.<p>
You wonder, as Cal is being led away, if maybe it would have been better if you would have talked to his attorney, before entering the courtroom...<p>
Nothing to do now but [[start over.|1]]<p><center><b>Postscript</b></center><hr>
{name}, your investigative article, <i>IF Genocide in Genre</i>, wins the Pulitzer Prize. When Redd Herring retires from the The Daily Passage, you become the Editor. Cal Crossroad becomes a close friend, and you go babel fishing together.<p>
Redd Herring gets tired of sending reporters on useless, twisted little errands and retires. He receives a <i>broken</i> gold-colored nickel watch from the The Daily Passage muckety-mucks at his retirement party.<p>
Ian Hook, the prosecutor, is fired from his job and is never seen again.<p>
Vicky Variable, the defense attorney, goes on to become a Supreme Court Justice in the Land of IF.<p>
Higabottom Sitzfleisch, the judge, retires after a distinquished career. He ends up in Germany where he becomes a professional beer drinker.<hr>
[[Postscript, continued.|67]]<p><center><b>Postscript (Continued)</b></center><hr>
Cal Crossroad wins first place in the 2020 IF Competition, proudly submitting a Twine entry.<p>
Deputy Moxley Clue, the jailer, is fired for abusing prisoners. He gets a job at the local ice cream parlor, where he makes $8 an hour.<p>
Gerta Grue, the librarian, retires after fifty years. She starts a new career as a circus clown, bringing joy to children of all ages.<p>
Daemon Bottleneck, the sports writer, eventually gets sick from steroid abuse. He leaves The Daily Passage and begins his new career as a panhandler.<p>
Interactive fiction continues to thrive throughout the Land of IF.<hr>
<h2><center>THE END</h2></center><b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
You decide to order a large breakfast. It is brought to your room about fifteen minutes later. "Hi, what's your name?" you say to the young man who brings it. "My name is Tansel North." Tansel places your breakfast on the table. "I'm {name} - pleased to meet you. Say, are you a Parser?" "Yes, of course," Tansel answers. "How do you feel about Twiners?" "They are the worst. They are ruining this town. IF, and this place, would be a lot better off without them." You decide this conversation has run its course. You give Tansel a tip and thank him.<p>
As you settle down to eat your breakfast, you reflect on everything you have learned about this place.<p>
After about an hour, you decide it is time to head down to the courthouse. You want to [[get there early.|70]]<p><b>The Merciful Inn</b><p><p>
Your stomach is queasy, so you decide to skip breakfast. There is much to do today. You take a look at your notes again, and reflect on the situation some more.<p>
After about an hour, you decide it is time to head down to the courthouse. You want to [[get there early.|70]]<p><b>The Genre Courthouse</b><p><p>
You find a seat in the back and settle down. You notice that the Twiners appear to be seated on your side of the courtroom, while the Parsers are seated on the other side.<p>
After the Judge, the Honorable <i>Higabottom Sitzfleisch</i>, enters the courtroom, the trial begins. Prosecutor Hook addresses the court with a special motion. "Your honor, there is someone present in the courtroom who should be removed immediately. This is a reporter from The Daily Passage whose name is {name}." The judge says, "Watch it, Mr. Hook - this court has nothing to hide from the Press." "No, your honor, the request is based upon the fact that {name} has been charged with a serious crime and will probably be tried in this very courtroom in the next few weeks." <p>
"Motion granted. Baliff, remove that person from my courtroom." The baliff comes over to your seat and escorts you out of the courtroom.<p>
[[Continue.|71]]<p><b>The Genre Courthouse</b><p><p>
You wait in the hallway for about an hour.<p>
Cal is convicted of ifslaughter and sentenced to 90 days in jail. You are distressed about this, and it gets you thinking.<p>
Could it be possible that your boss (Redd Herring) sent you on a <i>fool's errand</i>?
The shock of this possibility shakes you to the core. There is absolutely nothing to do but [[start over.|1]]<p>