You... uh... do your business.\n\nBack to [[the bathroom|bathroom]].

You don't even know when the thought enters your mind, but before you can question where it came from you're hurling yourself through the glass. You stare in wonder at your breath-- now visible in the cold outside as you fall.\n\nThere's one last split second as you ask yourself just what the hell you're doing and [[then...|The End]]

Dark\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBummer. Let's try it all again...\n\n[[Re-Start|Start]]

No. It's nice here. You're far away from everything.\n\n[[Continue looking out window|more more window]]

Well, why the hell not, right?\n\nCoughing simultaniously with the creaky opening of the medicine chest so as not to let anyone outside the door know what you're doing, you slowly open the mirrored panel. \n\nToothpaste. Boring.\n\nFloss. Unwaxed? What a bunch of savages...\n\nSomething called Mandelay? Google later...\n\nAnd then... the motherload.\n\nFour yellow-orange prescription bottles sit on the top shelf. You may not be able to pronounce the names of them, but you know what that old-school typewriter font says: FUN!\n\n-- Why not? [[All aboard the Goodtimes Express!|why not?]]\n\n-- Hmm. Naw. Maybe I'll just close the cabinet up. [[return to the bathroom|bathroom]]

It's an unkempt bedroom. \n\nA twin size bed sits in the corner, unmade, various articles of clothing strewn about it.\n\nThe posters on the walls are all strangely bands and movies your ex absolutely loved. \n\nA [[computer|computer]] sits on a cramped desk on one side of the bed. It's turned on and is open to a search webpage. \n\nThere is a [[large window|window]] with a surprisingly nice view of the city covering half of one wall.\n\n-- [[Go back to the kitchen|kitchen]]

You didn't want to come here.\n\nAfter spending two days in your apartment after a rather messy breakup, your roomate Sam poked her head into your room and insisted you get out. After bathing for the first time in a while and putting on your cleanest dirty clothes, you find yourself following Sam up ight flights of stairs (the elevator is out AGAIN) toward a large ruckus in the apartment building you live in. Pushing open the door you walk into a loud, smoked filled room. \n\nThere are about fifteen guests you can see from here, all around your age. A [[punkrocker|punk]] sits on a dirty couch, her eyes barely open and a mostly empty 64 ounce jug of Mickey's in her lap. \n\nStanding, leaning against a wall is a [[sensitive art student|art student]]\n\nThere is a door off to the right that appears to go to a [[bathroom|bathroom]] and another larger door to the left that apparently leads to the [[kitchen|kitchen]]

You walk over to the computer and put one hand on the mouse.\n\n-- [[Check email|email]]\n\n-- [[Go back to bedroom|bedroom]]

You try to shake her into consciousness. \n\n"Fuck you, Crass rules" is all she manages to say before attempting to turnover on the couch. A ductape wallet falls out of her black jeans-jacket vest.\n\n-- That's free money, fool! [[take the wallet|wallet]]\n\n-- Fuck that, I'll probably get scabies [[Don't take the wallet|don't take the wallet]]\n

You knew it was too soon to be out.\n\nYou lie on the floor of your room, drinking cheap red wine from the bottle and listening to music you know will just make you more depressed. \n\nEventually you pass out alone. \n\n\nYou have won Party Quest!!! Good job!\n\nRemember: The only way to win is to never really leave home in the first place. \n\n[[Explore some more?|Start]]

The wind continues to howl.\n\nYou stand among the things in this stranger's bedroom, thinking, and suddenly going back out to the party is the last thing you want to do.\n\n

Sure, why not. Your life sucks right now, might as well just keep the fun going with a trip through someone else's used underthings.\n\nYou root around in the hamper and eventually pull out a very bright colored pair of underwear. There is something written on the back of it and as you lean closer to see what it says, the door busts open and a woman, who you recognize as one of the hosts of the party, rushes to the toilet and begins vomitting. Behind her is a concerned looking boyfriend he goes from concerned to livid in about half a second as he gets an eyefull of some pervery shoving his face into his girlfriend's fine washables. \n\nBefore you can say, "Huge misunderstanding" a large-ish, fist-sized object is slammed into your face and you remember no more. \n\n[[end|end]]

It's an unkempt bedroom. \n\nA twin size bed sits in the corner, unmade, various articles of clothing strewn about it.\n\nThe posters on the walls are all strangely bands and movies your ex absolutely loved. \n\nYou heard the wind howl outside. There was supposed to be snow tonight, you remember now.\n\n There is a [[large window|large window]] with a surprisingly nice view of the city covering half of one wall.\n\nThere is also the door back to [[the kitchen|kitchen]]

It's a small one-- the [[toilet|toilet]] only a foot or so from the [[shower/tub|shower]]. A [[hamper|hamper]] stuffed with clothing sits in one corner. There's also a [[medicine chest|medicine chest]] behind the mirror. \n\nYou can also [[return to the main room|main room]].\n

Be it through violence, sheer embarassment or general bad ideas, you've reached the end of your Party Quest. \n\nLet's [[try that again|Start]].

The party is much as you left it. \n\nThere is a [[bathroom|bathroom]] to your left, a [[kitchen|kitchen]] to your right. A [[sensitive art student|art student]]leans up against a wall, positive no one here can possibly ever understand him. A [[punkrocker|punk]] is barely keeping her head up on the couch. \n\n\nYou can also just [[Go home|home]]

The snow is picking up. The wind blows it so furiously at times that the single flakes turn into vast jetstreams of frost that zig-zag past your line of sight. \n\nThe party seems quieter from here-- the sounds of the other people are on some kind of fader and their volume drops until all you really hear is the wind. \n\n[[Continue looking out window|more more window]]\n\n[[Go back to the bedroom|No]]

You take the drink from her and put it to your lips. It's actually quite tasty! The mint lends a certain...\n\n\nYou black out. \n\n\nWhen you awake you are in a bathrub filled with ice. There is a phone next to the tub with a sign that says:\n\nDear You,\n\nCall 911\n\nSincerely, \n\nThe Organ Theives\n\n[[Oh my|end]]\n\n\n

It's pretty much as you left it. \n\nYou don't have anymore interest in that punch or in the woman with the moscow mule. \n\n-- [[Go to the bedroom|bedroom]]\n\n-- [[Go back to the mainroom|main room]]

It's a really a gorgeous view of the city. The lights twinkle and reflect nicely against the backdrop of the overcast night sky. \n\nYou wonder off-handedly how much more these people are paying in rent than you do, many floors below. \n\n[[Go back to the bedroom|bedroom]]

Party Quest

The city is a blank slate.\n\nThe buildings continue to do their twinkling light trick. \n\nThe glass here is so thin.\n\n[[Continue looking out window|Window Finale]]

You thank her for her offer but decline. She acknowledges you coldly and persists.\n\n"No, it's wodnerful. Drink it."\n\nYou decline again.\n\n"DRINK THE DAMN DRINK!!!"\n\nAs if a record has scratched the entire party turns to look at her. Red-faced, she turns tail and goes back to her partner near the sink. \n\n[[Back to the kitchen|kitchen again]]

You logon to your email and check the in box.\n\nThere's an email from mom. It's pleasant enough, but you can hear the undertones in everysentence: You don't call unless you need something. I never hear about your life anymore. Why are you so selfish?\n\nYou skim through the rest of it and close it. \n\nUnwisely, you open the sent folder and look through the two pathetic, drunken emails you sent the recnt Ex late last night. The second one is obviously damage control over the first, but it just makes the first even more pathetic than it seems at first glance. \n\nSpam.\nSpam. \nSpam.\n\nAn email from a friend who wrote to you a month ago and to whom you never responded.\n\nSpam.\n\nNotice from a job website urging you to finish an application you never did.\n\nSpam.\nSpam.\n\nAn email from the ex, about two days before you two became actual exes. You marvel at how you couldn't have seen this coming as you read every line, hearing an entirely different tone than you did the first time you read it.\n\nSpam.\n\nUnanswered email from mom.\n\nSpam.\n\nYou click the browser closed in disgust and let out a heavy breath. \n\n[[Back to bedroom|back to bedroom]]\n\n

She may smell gross and like Crass, but you're above stealing. You tuck the wallet back into her vest and pull a hole-filled blanket you see on the floor near the couch over her. She mutters something about some 7 inch she's selling on Ebay, coughs up something yellow onto the blanket and goes back to bed.\n\n[[Back to the party|main room]]

He rolls his eyes.\n\nHe's clearly practiced this a lot.\n\n"Fun is for people too stupid to know any better."\n\nHe dismisses you with a casual (but also clearly pracited) gesture.\n\n[[return to the party|main room]]

He eyes you up and down.\n\n"Drugs are for losers. So, like, I'm surprised you don't ALREADY HAVE SOME."\n\nHe then says under his breath to himself, "Sick burn, kid."\n\n\n[[return to party|main room]]

Yum! Backwash from a gutter punk. You can only imagine what is coursing through your veins now.\n\n[[back|punk]]

You saunter up to the bowl of punch. It's bright red with a greenish tint. Things that may or may not be fruit have sunk to the bottom of the bowl. There is a distinct smell of rubbing alcohol and failure eminating from it. A stack of red cups sits next to it.\n\n-- I think I'll[[have some punch!|drink punch]]\n\n-- No way, uh uh. [[Back to kitchen|kitchen]]

As you approach the Senitive Art Student, you sense his attempt to make everyone think he isn't noticing anyone in the room grow tenfold. Dressed mostly in black, his skin is so pale that you find it hard to look directly into his face lest it hurt your eyes. He sips what smells like cheap wine from a boda bag and carefully tries to appear not to look at you afterwards as he checks to see if you're impressed he's not using a cup.\n\n"These people are so boring, aren't they?" \n\n-- [["I hadn't really noticed, they all just kind of blend into the background to me, like a herd of white sheep in a snowstorm, you know?"|Disaffected]]\n\n-- [["So, there's this new thing everyone is talking about called 'Fun'-- I'm going to assume you've never heard of it."|Make fun of]]\n\n-- [["Do you have any drugs?"|drugs]]\n\n-- [[Turn and walk away without another word|main room]]\n

It's snowing, alright. The wind blows the large, steady flakes sideways and you look out as it attempts to swallow the city. \n\nYou wish you hadn't checked your email.\n\n--[[continue looking out the window|more window]]\n\n--[[Return to the bedroom|return to bedroom]]

After hitting up the pharmaceutical buffet and flushing the toilet as you close the creeky cabinet, you head back out to the party, now thinking maybe you DO want to be here. \n\nYou dance. \nYou bond. \nYou drink.\nYou dance.\n\nAnd then walls melt a bit, you foam at the mouth andhit the filthy carpet like a sack of white castles hit the belly. Before things fade to green (green?? Yes, green) you see most of the party goers aiming their phones at you.\n\n[[Oh,dear|end]]

You head through the door and walk into a squalid kitchen. There are once white, now yellowish-brown tiles beneath your feet. A few people mill about, drinking beers and wine-- three Bros do shots, sitting on the floor in the corner. A friendly looking couple of around your age makes some kind of concoction on the counter next to a sink. \n\nOn a slanted small table you see a [[bowl of punch of unknown provenance|punch]].\n\nAnother door leads to what you think is a [[bedroom|bedroom]].\n\nYou can always [[go back to the main room|main room]].

"ggrruuu..." she says to you.\n\nThere is about an inch left in the 64 ounce jug of Mickey's in her lap. She's wearing a torn Adicts t-shirt, even more torn fishnets under jeans cutoffs and a black denim vest festooned with band patches. There seems to be a strong odor of garbage, tobacco, stray dog and patchouli coming off of her. \n\n"Mruuuuh?" she continues.\n\n-- [[shake her|shake]]\n\n-- [[drink the rest of her Mickey's|drink]]\n\n-- [[Go back to the party|main room]]

You uneasily ladel out some of the stinking liquid into a cup but before you can put it to your lips, the friendly looking woman of about your own age comes up.\n\n"Don't drink that shit. It's like Drain-o. My friend and I are making some Moscow Mules over at the counter-- want one?"\n\nShe hold aloft a much more pleasant looking drink, complete with tasty looking mint in it. She offers it to you. \n\n-- [[Drink the Moscow Mule|Mule]]\n\n-- [[Don't Drink the Moscow Mule|No Mule]]\n

Uh. Um. OK, sure.\n\nYou enter the shower and pull the curtain behind you.\n\nIt smells like generic body wash and Prell. It's still damp from a recent shower. The drain looks like Robin Williams has perhaps used it last. \n\nYou stand there looking at the mildew on the green-blue tiles in front of you.\n\nRight as you're asking yourself what in the name of Crom you're doing, the door is thrus open and you hear the voices of a man and a woman. The door shuts. Giggling is heard followed by the closing of the toilet, the rustling of some small paper package, a bit more giggling and then the sounds of nasal inhaling. And more giggling.\n\n"Who was that who showed up with Sam?"\n\n"I dunno. Interested?"\n\n"Always. Didn't see a drink in the hand, so the liver is probably good to go."\n\n"Kidneys, too. And you know Jack is always looking for some good kidneys."\n\n"OK-- normal plan?"\n\n"Yup, I'll dose the drink, you offer it up."\n\nThe strains of high fiving and more nasal inhaling can be heard before the door opens again and the two are gone in a cloud of giggles. \n\nWell, maybe it's time to [[get out of the shower|bathroom]].\n\n

Sure, she smells like a gutter, but her green is as good as anyones!\n\nYou reach down and pick up the wallet. Upon opening it, you find 4 credit cards in her parent's name and a couple hundred in cash. \n\nYou pocket both.\n\nShe murmurs something in her sleep about the proletariat, pukes a little and goes back to sleep.\n\n[[back to the party|main room]]

His eyes brighten.\n\n"You... you see everything. Your smug dismisal, your use of cliches to belittle others... Will you marry me???"\n\nIt's a bit sudden, but you know in your heart of hearts it's the right thing to do.\n\nYou two become married and eventually adopt a slew of children. \n\n[[Huh.|end]]

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