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You are one of the top Problem Sleuths in the city. Solicitations for your service are numerous in quantity. Compensation, adequate. It is a balmy summer evening. You are feeling particularly hard boiled tonight.
What will you do?
You've already got arms, numbnuts!
You are quite positive there has never been a gun in your office, and never will be. Frankly, the notion strikes you as reckless and foolhardy.
You don't know why you are assuming the door will be locked. You don't usually keep the door to your office locked. Nonetheless, a guy this hard boiled doesn't go messing around with totally unmanly things like knobs.
You send your meaty fist glass-ward.
It seems there never was a glass element to the door. It was just a piece of paper taped to it.
The PIECE OF PAPER was added to your inventory.
The door is locked!! Funny, you don't remember locking it.
The most plainly obvious course of action is to call a locksmith. You examine the phone. While it appears to be hooked up to an active phone line, the rotary dial and receiver cord are both missing. You won't be talking to anyone on this phone!
Unfortunately, your desk has no drawers, since it is a board resting on some cinderblocks with faux wood panel siding.
Your pocket however yields bountiful returns. You found some CANDY CORN.
You pick up the gun.
The grip is cold against your palm. This is your only friend in the world right now. It's gonna be a long night.
INVENTORY WEAPON POCKET
PS: ? ?
Thinking the precious cargo may not be secure in your pocket, you explore alternatives.
But you don't know the combination to the safe!! You figure it's probably hidden somewhere in your office.
You have decided to examine PIECE OF PAPER.
Eureka! You discovered a SEQUENCE OF NUMERALS.
You will use SEQUENCE OF NUMERALS on the safe.
The safe doesn't seem to work. It appears to be a replica of a safe's facade, concealing something beneath it on the wall.
There is a painting of a clown under the safe cover.
There is a flask of whiskey under the desk.
You pick up the FLASK OF WHISKEY.
How do you expect to drink from the FLASK OF WHISKEY when it is not in your jacket pocket???
You swap the KEY for the FLASK OF WHISKEY, and wield it accordingly.
You topple backwards on to your desk.
You re-equip your GUN so you can blow a hole in the lock to open the door.
It looks like your GUN only has 1 BULLET(S) left. Are you sure you want to use it in this way? You might need it in case you have to off yourself later.
As you stoop to look at the bottom of the phone, your finger slips and you blow the lock off the door.
BUSTS-R-US A GOOD WAY TO GET AHEAD 531-8008
It is a business card for "Busts-R-Us". Probably a brothel, considering the lame double-entendre slogan, and the phone number, which if turned upside-down, spells "BOOBIES".
You put the BUSTS-R-US CARD in your inventory. You also put the phone upright and back on its hook to make sure you don't miss any important calls from would-be clients.
The door still will not open! It appears that it was never locked in the first place. Something must be obstructing its path.
EXIT A.D. P.S. BUSTS R US
No wonder the door won't open. Blocking it is an enormous and magnificent bust of Ben Stiller in his role as Starsky in the 2004 retro-mania comedy remake of Starsky and Hutch.
Lying on the floor appears to be an unfortunate bystander, an employee of Busts-R-Us. He was polishing the bust right in front of your door for some reason.
EXIT A.D. P.S. BUSTS R US
You can't reach them!!!
In any case, they are probably just a part of the statue, and not actual sunglasses.
You spend the next half hour trying to reach them.
The painting is exquisite. There is something funny about his eyes though. Light seems to be shining through from the other side.
It's too bright in this room to see anything in there! You do think you hear a voice though. You can't tell what it is saying.
You're just so angry about not being able to reach those sunglasses, you're about to lose it!
You first consolidate all the scrapped wood into a neat pile, then hoist the block towards the door.
It sounds like something was knocked loose on the other side.
You face EAST in the room to look out the window. Bright daylight floods the room through the glass. You've always been a stickler for natural light. This is the only source of light in the room.
What makes this particularly strange is the fact that it is 10 o'clock in the evening.
It's the view from your third floor office. You gaze abstractedly at the commotion below. Same scene, same faces every day. It's like it hardly ever changes. Not that you can afford to pay much attention to scenery, with your mind wrapped around the latest problem to sleuth, and your lips, around your flask.
You shout toward the moving truck, hoping someone might be willing to bust your problem, so to speak.
You do your best pantomime of Ben Stiller as a Starsky statue. But it doesn't seem like anyone can see or hear you.
You think you have a pretty good idea about how your office works by now. Acting upon this hunch, you hoist another cinderblock glass-ward.
No clue is too trivial for the keen problem sleuth. Your motto is "let no inventory go uncluttered".
You catch a glimpse of the reflection in the glass. It's the wall behind you.
Now facing SOUTH, you pause to marvel at the beauty of your office wall mural celebrating ethnic diversity. You had it commissioned some time ago by a promising young artist. Best $11,000 you ever spent!
Madame Murel Bring wall your fantasies to life 1-900-STRIP-1ST
It appears to be another business card. At a glance, one might think it was a calling card for a lady of the night named "Muriel" with a typo in her name, given the poor spelling exhibited elsewhere.
But on closer inspection, it is more likely a misspelling for "mural", given the smudged-out pun about walls. The suggestion in the phone number is probably regarding the old coat of paint rather than anyone's clothes.
It's an easy enough mistake to make, though. You feel sorry for anyone who at any point in the past may have called while under the wrong impression.
You stash the MADAME MUREL CARD in your inventory and set about making a really cool fort in your office! It is complete with a front step and a chimney. You are really proud of your craftsmanship.
Inside your fort, you are only bound by the walls of your imagination, and several small pieces of particle board.
This is what being a hard boiled problem sleuth is all about. It's about being a strong, silent type, oozing with confidence, charisma, and other fine qualities such as not being trapped in your own office. It's about having a working phone. A real desk. Not one, but two steak dinners. And some hysterical broad on the line, yackin' about some fella she's got troubles with. It's always the same thing with dames. You comfort yourself in your sublime fantasy by now and then saying things into the phone such as, "Now calm down a second, toots..." and "Hey, take it easy, sweetheart. I can barely understand a word you're sayin'..."
Your call is rudely interrupted by a ringing noise. It can't be the phone, because you're already on it!
Something is ringing in your office.
You pick up the phone and mutter some impatient greetings into the useless receiver. There is no response. Looks like you just lost another client to technical difficulties.
You are fed up with your shitty phone. It has screwed you out of a case for the last time!
You're probably going to need to get that back somehow.
Even though the window is broken, you decide to open it.
You slide the lower pane upward, but the whole window frame seems to slip from its anchored position.
The window comes off the wall altogether. On closer examination, it seems to be a false window with a picture inside it. The picture is lit from within, sort of like a sophisticated light box.
The window/light box is plugged into the wall behind it.
The false window was concealing a large safe.
The false window is way too big to carry around, stupid!
But you did find a CURTAIN ROD just under the top edge. You never did get around to putting up drapes. Then again, it never did make much sense to cover up the only source of light in your office.
You put the CURTAIN ROD in your inventory.
You examine the heavy-duty safe. You must be keeping some serious loot in here.
41-23-66 CLICK SWING
You enter the SEQUENCE OF NUMERALS from the PIECE OF PAPER. The combination works!
However, instead of opening the safe, the dial has simply popped open to reveal a keyhole. It looks like it requires a key that looks more like a house key or a car key, rather than one of those old fashioned looking keys which tend to be littered all over video games, and which you are quite sure you have never once seen lying around in your office.
You don't need this PIECE OF PAPER anymore.
You discarded the PIECE OF PAPER.
Your KEY is out of bullets!!!
It's a long way down! You'll have to think of a way to reel them in if you want them back.
You unplug the false window, which is probably burning through electricity with its powerful fluorescent bulbs and strange spatial warping properties. You're not made of money!
The room goes dark.
With the room darkened, you should now be able to see through the painting.
Gadzooks! It's another urban mural. This one is particularly unpleasant. You have a feeling it might have been placed there just to annoy you.
You hear a voice from the other side. It's hard to tell what it is saying, but you think you can make out the words "toots" and "sweatheart" now and then.
It's hard to tell how far away the mural is. The clown's eyes are so close together, you can only see through one at a time, limiting your depth perception. You wonder what kind of freak this painting was made for.
If only you had some sort of thin, extendable implement to poke through the hole to tell how far away it is.
You feel the the CURTAIN ROD bump into something not too far into the wall.
A.D. STARSKY HUGGY HUTCH
It is the adjacent office. The man at the desk is talking to a client about some sort of problem which requires sleuthing.
It is your loathesome arch nemesis, Ace Dick! He is always scooping you on the best cases. That portly son of a bitch makes your blood boil!
$#*@! BUMP FALL
You shout, but he cannot hear you. The walls may be too thick, or he is just engrossed in his conversation. It sounds like he is arguing over a misunderstanding about the nature of the services provided by Busts-R-Us, and an alarmingly large bill for those services.
In the darkness, you stub your toe on the false safe cover. You utter more profanity.
Inflated electric bills or not, you are getting sick of stubbing your toe on things.
The door bears the brunt of the bottled-up shitstorm brewing within.
The key which you can't actually see, and don't actually know is there, jingled a bit. You'll have to throw something heavier against the door if you want to knock it loose.
You take the cinderblock which was formerly your fort's front step. You decided you could stand to part with it, since you've been stubbing your toe on it constantly since you built it.
The key still won't jingle loose. It looks like you'll need to throw an even heavier object at the door.
Since Ace seems so intent on being able to see into your office, it looks like you put up something for him to look at.
You stashed the NOTE TO ACE DICK.
It appears to be some kind of heating unit to keep the coffee hot. It looks heavy.
It is quite heavy. And hot!
You contemplate throwing it at the door, but something occurs to you first. You don't want to knock the keys on the floor and not be able to reach them. (re: the sunglasses fiasco) You'd better be prepared to catch them in something after you throw it.
You resolve to catch the key with your hat. You let the ponderous appliance fly.
With quick reflexes, you shove your hat through the hole in time to rescue the key.
You got the SAFE KEY! And you can't think of a safer place for it than where it is now.
SO SHOULD I STRIP FIRST?" YES, YOU WILL WANT TO STRIP THOROUGHLY BEFORE I PROVIDE MY SERVICE." "OK, I'M STRIPPING NOW..."
You keep the hidden recording device in your office to record anything said that might be incriminating. Unfortunately, the only incriminating statements it recorded were likely made by yourself.
Your prized confections will be safer here.
The recording tape begins to unspool while you're preoccupied.
You remember you're pissed off at Ace Dick, and in addition to which, you haven't been able to pee once in the 13 and a half hours you've been locked in your office. You decide to exact revenge by unleashing a torrent of urine through one of the painting holes, preferably while he is spying on you.
Unfortunately, your aim isn't that good, and you don't even come close to getting pee through the holes. The painting is now a smelly mess.
You unlock the safe with the SAFE KEY. The safe opens to reveal a hidden room.
You don't need the SAFE KEY anymore, so you discard it.
Wow, what a fucking waste of time!
CHAPTER 2 OF 22 -- MAYBE NOW IS A GOOD TIME TO SAVE YOUR GAME? CLICK LINK BELOW.
You enter your secret chamber. It's a dark alcove you use to store a few modest valuables, and duck into whenever you're on a case and things start to get too hot to handle (which is never).
FUCK OFF ASSHOLE. ASS HOLE
It appears to be a note delivered to you from Ace Dick. It smells a little like pee. You hate him so much.
You stash the UNPLEASANT NOTE in your inventory.
You can't do it. That tuba is filthy!
2ND HAND HORNOGRAPHY HANDLING YOUR DIRTY INSTRUMENTS SINCE 1920 - RUSTY TROMBONES - FILTHY TUBAS - FUNKY TRUMPETS - AND MORE 1-800-SAX-SAX-SAX
It's another business card for an intriguing trade. Some of these services sound really exotic.
You climb into the elevator, sometimes called a dumbwaiter. It's pitch black inside. There's only one direction to go.
The dumbwaiter goes down a little bit, then stops. This is as far as it goes.
The interior is somewhat illuminated from light coming in through a slit on the wall you're facing. It looks like you can slip objects through it, as long as they are narrow enough.
It's hard to see anything through it. But you hear a voice again.
It's Ace Dick's office again. He is still on the phone and sounds really surly. He seems quite upset about a mixup involving large stone busts, instead of some other service he believed he was getting.
CUT SCENE BUSTS-R-US WE'LL POLISH YOUR HEAD FOR NO EXTRA FEE. 5034-918
He seems to be wondering if he has the right business card.
You deposit into the slot the BUSTS-R-US card.
A little too late, you realize you should have peed on the card to stick it to Ace.
You decide to pee on it anyway.
CUT SCENE INVENTORY
Ace Dick picks up the card and puts it in his inventory. He considers the card carefully.
He calls the number, hoping this one will bring satisfaction.
After a little while, some whores show up.
It looks like Ace got the better of you once again.
Feelings of dejection overwhelm you. You are tired of being shown up by your rival. He gets everything. All the good cases. The women. The ability to open his office door. You'd wager he even enjoys the lion's share of the candy corn.
You down a stiff belt from your FLASK OF WHISKEY.
You experience a boost in your IMAGINATION.
Suddenly, you are entirely dissatisfied with the condition of these horns. It is an absolute disgrace. You won't stand for it.
You set about polishing the instruments, but it seems your IMAGINATION is too high to conduct normal day-to-day activities. You topple some of the horns. The clarinet breaks.
If only there were a place that could serve as a proper outlet for such a high degree of IMAGINATION until the condition passed.
In your heightened state of IMAGINATION, you fall down the stairs.
You'd better get to the safety of your fort fast. You're no good to anyone out here.
You feel safe and sound in the cozy confines of your wobbly particle board walls.
P.S. CANDYCORN RING.
You stand in your imaginary office. With the mind, anything is possible.
Your imaginary phone is ringing.
You answer the phone in the best Depression-era fast-talking way possible. On the other line is a hysterical dame.
You tell her to calm down and give you the skinny on what all hubbub is about. Her answers are vague and one-dimensional. The case is quickly going nowhere.
It turns out your imagination sucks!
The steak dinners have been sitting around for a while. They are both spoiled!
CANDYCORN IMAGINATION PULCHRITUDE
They don't taste as good as real candy corn.
Nevertheless, it gives your PULCHRITUDE a small boost.
You pick up the gun.
You'd like to bring it back with you, but you cannot fathom how that is possible.
You exit your office, into the hallway.
You burst through Ace Dick's imaginary door, rolling up your nonexistent sleeves.
But he is nowhere to be found. His imaginary room is empty, most likely because Ace is currently not using his IMAGINATION.
You exit, but not before you leave and imaginary present on the floor.
P.S. P.I. EXIT
You are now facing SOUTH in the hallway.
P.S. P.I. EXIT
You hear noises behind the door. It sounds like swing music, and riotous times being had. Whoever is in this office probably has a terrific imagination!
But the door is locked.
You feel your IMAGINATION beginning to fade, so you hurry downstairs to the imaginary street.
You find your motley collection of items which you earlier threw out the window in a fit of rage, stupidity, or both.
You see a familiar face through the window. A friendly face.
Your IMAGINATION wears off.
You experience the lingering effects of your IMAGINATION. The stat remains at the same level, but no longer affords you its advantages. However, you remain just as useless in the real world!
You are going to need to figure out a way to sober up fast.
IMAGINATION PULCHRITUDE VIM
You drink the COFFEE which is lukewarm. It is foul, bitter, and ridiculously strong. You can only drink a little of it.
Your IMAGINATION is reduced, while your VIM enjoys a healthy boost. You feel terrific now! Fit as a fiddle, and bristling with coordination.
Two pieces of CANDY CORN fall on to the floor.
You put the CANDY CORN into your HAT.
The phone is ringing again.
PS: ? RING.
Your phone is now missing three components, making it that much more difficult to answer this call from an undoubtedly hysterical dame.
If only you could think of a way to reel in objects from the weird window/mind-space universe.
You try to shake your belongings from the blasted portal.
It appears to run on Etch-A-Sketch technology.
You use the magnetic tape to form a lasso. Maybe you can reel in your belongings this way.
However, you think the tape-lasso is way too light and flimsy to throw out the window with any significant distance or accuracy. You'll need something to weigh it down.
You tie the tape to a cinderblock, using it as an anchor.
It looks like there are two holes in the mural. They are spaced far apart, just wide enough for someone with sensible human anatomy to look through with both eyes.
You unplug the window again and have a gander.
PROBLEM SLEUTH IS IMPOLITE. VERY RUDE. ✡ - ♥ - Ω
It's an UNPLEASANT NOTE. You can tell using your DEPTH PERCEPTION that the note is very close, only a few inches from your face.
A painting of an elf jostles on the other side.
It falls to reveal a safe.
The safe pops open, revealing a painting of an elf.
It is the office of yet another one of your competitors, Pickle Inspector. He looks dazed, as if perhaps he's been trapped in his office for some time.
There are strange glass containers in the corner. You wonder if there might be a business card (worded professionally, of course) for a glass blower somewhere in his office. Perhaps taped to something, like a cinderblock, or the back of an elf painting.
His office is dark for some reason.
You suddenly hear noises coming from Ace Dick's office. You figure as long as your office is dark, you might as well check on him through the clown holes.
A.D. STARSKY HUGG- -CH
The whores tied Ace Dick up in a chair and stole his phone. The Huggy Bear bust is cracked open, and the treasure which was undoubtedly stashed inside has been stolen too. He was probably tortured for the information.
You celebrate by mustering one of the silliest dances you've attempted in hours.
Ace Dick hears your shenanigans from the other side. He seems to be pleading for a way to cut the rope.
You can't imagine how you can get a statue's attention.
You begin to covet the Hutch bust, and whatever secrets it guards.
The reel is way too weak to hold your weight! It will probably only be able to support and reel in lighter objects.
The reel begins to turn, pulling the tape taught. The cinderblock below does not budge. If the tape is re-tied to a lighter object, it will likely be pulled in through the window automatically.
You go into the back room and down the elevator.
Ace receives the SHARD OF GLASS. He uses it to cut himself free.
You are now Ace Dick.
You begin to question this feud you've been embroiled in with your neighbor for so long. After all, he did just give you the number for some honest to God whores, even if they did ultimately rob you. He also just helped you escape. Maybe it's time to bury the hatchet and help him out of his office.
You feel you should get some supplies from your safe first, though. If only you could remember the combination.
You can't pull it off! It's stuck fast. Maybe a heavy object will knock it loose.
IMAGINATION PULCHRITUDE VIM
Using your extraordinary strength due to your unusually high VIM characteristic, you lift the bust easily.
You send the Owen Wilson paper-ward.
The bust crashed through the window, knocking out an employee of Madame Murel. He was wheeling a portable scaffold into place to prepare for some more mural work. He looks like he's in bad shape now.
The Hutch head cracked open, exposing riches.
It looks like one of the whores may have taken Starsky's sunglasses.
The scaffold continues rolling, coming to a stop in front of your door, jamming it shut.
You are now trapped in your office too. You and Problem Sleuth will have to work together if you want to escape.
(Precede commands for Ace Dick with "AD:", and for Problem Sleuth with "PS:".)
The scaffolding is jammed in place! It seems the brake for the wheels was triggered after it came to a stop. You can't push it away either. The top just bumps up against the ceiling. There's no climbing out of the window with your portly frame because of the scaffold bars.
Unless someone comes to help you, or you find a blowtorch to melt through the bars, you're probably not getting out of this office any time soon. Nice try though!
I beg your pardon?
You put the PHONE PARTS in your inventory.
You slip the PHONE PARTS through the slot to an awaiting Problem Sleuth.
But he is not waiting for them in the dumbwaiter!!
The phone parts fall somewhere into the dark shaft below. Nice work, Bonehead McFuckup.
There is a HAMMER in the broken Snoop Dogg bust. You place the HAMMER in your inventory.
The window loses it's extra-dimensional portal properties, and severs you mid-way through. You are dead.
<- GO BACK
You're not sure what you were thinking.
3M-2K-BH-JQ 49-LD-6M-ZR Q1-TG-67-8M
Behind the poster is another clown drawn directly on the metal.
Under the paper is a long GAME CODE. This is probably a code you can use to return to a particular state in this game.
You put it in your inventory.
You pick up the RING OF KEYS.
Armed with your TOMMY GUN, you are one hard boiled lug. Nobody mess with this tough guy, see?
You go down the dumbwaiter.
Ace Dick tries to give you an item. But the HAMMER is too big to fit into the slot.
Ace gives you all his BUSINESS CARDS instead.
In return, you give him your collection of UNPLEASANT NOTES.
MORON STUPID BUTT SMELLS LIKE A BUTT. FLIP
You recognize both of these notes. You wrote and delivered them to your neighbor to get his goat.
One of them has something on the back. He wrote a rebuttal on the other side and taped it to the back of his fake safe for your viewing pleasure.
Luckily, the combination to your safe is on this paper. You carelessly composed your note on this document without noticing.
You enter the combination. The smaller compartment opens up to reveal three old fashioned key holes.
You have to unplug your large panoramic window from its portable generator first.
CANDY CORN VAMPIRE
You topple backwards on to your particle board desk. It was supported by a couple of smaller busts, including one of your favorites, Snoop Dogg from Soul Plane.
First you organize all of the particle board into a neat pile to reduce clutter.
You ready the Snoop for throwing.
The bust crumbles against the rigid surface of the unplugged window. There's just no breaking the plane unless it's plugged in.
Amidst the rubble is a couple pieces of CANDY CORN, and a SMALL KEY.
First you plug the window back in so you stop stubbing your toe on things. Stubbing your toe is known to be brutal on your PULCHRITUDE stat.
You pick up the CRUET OF BRANDY.
You pick up the ROPE.
BRAKKA BRAKKA BRAKKA
You use your RING OF KEYS to unlock the key holes on the safe.
The RING OF KEYS blows a hole in the safe. The safe is open.
Now that the window is plugged in, you may effectively vent your rage with a heavy object.
The HAMMER shatters the glass and falls to the street far below your penthouse office suite .
You pick up CANDY CORN and SMALL KEY.
Ace Dick ate the candy corn.
He is an unimaginative lout and an all-around wet blanket!
Ace enjoys a small boost in PULCHRITUDE from the candy. His modest PULCHRITUDE gauge is now maxed out.
He inadvertently swallowed the SMALL KEY along with the CANDY CORN. It is now safely stored in his stomach.
You figure it's time to do something constructive for a change.
Your stout bunker of particle board is a smashing success. The Zoolander chimney is the jewel in its crown.
You can't reach the opening!
You would stand on the chair, but you don't think it's quite high enough. Besides, it is now built into your fort, and there's obviously no going back.
AD: ? ? ?
That's the stupidest idea you've ever had!
By stacking two bust stands, you can easily reach the safe opening.
CHAPTER 3 OF 22 -- SAVE: Y/N? THERE'S A LONG ROAD AHEAD, SO IT'S NOT A BAD IDEA!
It's your secret hideaway, a great place for ducking into when being persecuted by unscrupulous whores.
Acrid fumes from the room fill your nostrils.
The dumbwaiter goes up, revealing the PHONE PARTS which had fallen down the shaft earlier.
While you're at it, you compose another UNPLEASANT NOTE on the back of one of the others, and slip it through the slot.
Your phone is now 2/3 complete.
It is ringing again! You're going to need that receiver!
You throw your RING OF KEYS at the lock. They jangle uselessly against the door.
You're not sure what you expected was going to happen. You sure can be dumb sometimes.
The RING OF KEYS ammo is down to 90%.
You pick up your TOMMY GUN.
You won't need to use the ROPE to escape through the window. There is a fire escape stairway.
You climb on to the generator, out the window, and on to the stairs.
The generator is chugging away. It is fueled by potent grain alchohol. Its fuel gauge is at 80%.
The stairs end at the roof of an adjacent building. There is a pulley on the other side. There is a small skylight window on the center of the roof.
It's Pickle Inspector, the poor sap trapped in his office by that petty bastard, Problem Sleuth. He is currently in his fort.
There is no light in his office. His skylight window must not be powered.
You suddenly feel weird about standing on the other side of an unpowered window. You feel as though there will probably be metaphysical consequences.
A frightening beast appears!!!
You have a feeling your portly ally is in trouble somehow. You pound against the wall, but the Inspector is in his fort, off in his own world.
You decide to take the matter up with him directly.
You take a healthy swig from your FLASK OF WHISKEY to boost your IMAGINATION, and duck into the old fort.
In a stirring homage to the tubby boy "Chunk" in The Goonies, you lift your shirt and produce the most blubber-jostling jig you can muster.
You are quickly slain by the hungry beast.
You really like The Goonies, and you think the beast probably does too, but you think a little restraint is called for in this situation.
You squeeze the trigger of your TOMMY GUN and fill the creature with lead.
The beast is unfazed! You are down to only 5% ammo, and you doubt the remainder of your bullets will finish off the encroaching monster.
You run up the stairs into the safety of your window.
You can't just vomit things on command! That's ridiculous.
On the other hand, when there's liquor in your system, that's a different story...
Well, ok, it's not whiskey, but you decide to open your CRUET OF BRANDY and throw back a stiff belt.
The alcohol has no effect on your VIM characteristic. But it quickly maxes out your crude little IMAGINATION gauge.
The room starts spinning. You'll need to duck into a safe place to expend the IMAGINATION fast.
You are standing in your imaginary office.
You can hardly believe how shitty your imagination is.
You pick up the SHITTY GUN. You'd be shocked if it worked at all.
Problem Sleuth is already there, trying to get into the locked office.
You shatter the glass with your beefy fist.
It is Pickle Inspector's imaginary office. He sure knows how to live it up.
He uses his potent imaginitive powers to replace the broken door with one of solid steel.
Problem Sleuth is gone. He probably went downstairs.
You find Problem Sleuth on the street. He is rounding up items scattered on the street and tying them to the magnetic tape.
It looks like he brought down a LARGE BAG OF CANDY CORN from his office. He may have considered tying it to the tape, but it is too heavy to be hauled up through the window. It probably will need to be hauled up by something stronger, like a rope. Perhaps one slung around a pulley...
You let go of the tape. It is reeled in through the window with the items.
Unfortunately, the HAMMER catches on the window's power cord and unplugs it.
A terrifying beast appears!!!
You are both armed with imaginary weapons and ready for melee.
AD: ? ? ?
The gentleman appear to be a brainless nonentity!!!
The beast gobbles the torso. He is temporarily placated by the red meat.
BOSS POK POK PEW
Your imaginary guns seem to be no more effective than pea shooters. Ace's bullets barely manage to clear the barrel.
The beast suffers minimal damage.
You stand on the cinderblocks and take aim.
Your piece of shit gun jams and explodes.
The beast takes significant damage. Ace Dick loses an imaginary life.
Ace Dick has returned to the physical plane.
You are feeling nauseous from the earlier boost to your IMAGINATION. You puke.
Problem Sleuth has been slain by the beast.
You wake up from your imaginary boss battle with a very real hangover.
You quickly drink some coffee to restore your VIM.
The recording device reeled in the PHONE RECEIVER and the HAMMER.
Finally, you can field some phone calls from flustered broads!
You put the HAMMER in your inventory.
You don't know Pickle Inspector's number, or if he even has a phone. Besides, your rotary dial appears to have strange symbols on it rather than numbers.
You vaguely recall seeing somewhere the sequence of symbols, STAR - HEART - HORSESHOE. However, you can't quite remember the symbols STAR - HEART - HORSESHOE. You will need the piece of paper with STAR - HEART - HORSESHOE written on it if you wish to remember the sequence STAR - HEART - HORSESHOE.
You pick up the SMALL KEY.
You unlock the lock and open the door. Powerful fumes waft into your nostrils.
You pry at the boards with the HAMMER.
But before you can pry any off, the door swings open, away from the boards. It seems the boards never actually served to obstruct the door in the first place.
CHAPTER 4 OF 22 -- LAST TIME I REMIND YOU TO SAVE! YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN FROM HERE.
You are now Pickle Inspector.
You examine your surroundings. Your door is blocked by something. Judging from the marks on the door, it looks like you attempted to open it with some sort of weapon.
There is a HAIRPIN on the floor.
You equip the HAIRPIN.
Armed with the MACHINE GUN, you are an unstoppable murdering machine. The heavy weapon is perfect for sating that burning desire to fill something with hot lead.
IMAGINATION PULCHRITUDE VIM
You drop the MACHINE GUN. Your VIM characteristic is way too low to carry around such a heavy object.
2ND HAND HORNO
A trombone is wedged between the door and the wall. The horn is really rusty. It could use some serious polishing.
You try to push the safe closed, but it is too heavy! Your VIM is not nearly high enough.
You're not sure where the elf painting cover went. Perhaps an elf took it. Elves may or may not be real.
They are not Smarties, they are Tootsie Rolls!
You attempt to woo your fan by turning it on. However, there is no electricity in your office presently.
There is a card taped to the fan.
GLASS BLOWERS INC. OFFERING GLASS CREATIONS WITH NO EROTIC CONNOTATIONS WHATSOEVER SINCE 1905. SERIOUSLY, WE JUST MAKE THINGS OUT OF GLASS. 1-800-BLOW-HARD
You place the GLASS BLOWERS INC. CARD in your inventory.
Andrew Hussie becomes aroused by fans of MS Paint Adventures. Way to break the 4th wall, numbskull!
Ace Dick enters the back room.
There are a couple of stills. One is for making illicit liquor during the prohibition era. Another is for making another sort of substance, possibly also illicit. All of the liquor appears to have been stolen!
There are some HANDGUN BULLET(S) on the floor. There is also a target painted on the ceiling for some reason.
Loud swing music and lively footsteps are heard from the room above.
Problem Sleuth enters the back room.
It appears to be a storage room for various instruments. Mysteriously, most of the instruments have been plundered from the room. Hung on the wall are portraits of some legendary jazz musicians. You regard them with awe.
Loud swing music and lively footsteps are heard from the room above.
The first bottle contains ILLICIT MOONSHINE. The second bottle contains HOT SAUCE. The third bottle contains your own EXCREMENT saved up from prolonged office entrapment.
You would take a swig from one, but you seem to have misplaced your handy DRINKING IMPLEMENT.
You pick up the HANGUN BULLET(S). They are not compatible with your TOMMY GUN. You will have to use the remainder of its ammo if you wish to fire it.
You point the RING OF KEYS target-ward.
The room above is a busy speakeasy. The clients boisterously enjoy illicit libations.
There is a bust of the speakeasy's owner, the MOBSTER KINGPIN. He is obviously the scourge of this pseudo-prohibition era universe. Nobody fucks with him.
Bullets pierce the floor in a semi-circular pattern around the bust. The patrons flee in fright out the exit.
The exit is now barred through some automated security mechanism, probably to prevent meddlesome coppers from barging in.
The gunfire ignited the potent fumes from the stills. The room is on fire.
The RING OF KEYS is out of ammunition.
You take a limp-wristed swing at the glass.
But it seems there is no glass in the door frame. You tumble through the opening.
You are in a small room with an elf. The elf possibly guards secrets. And a switch behind him.
PI: ? ? ?
Your PULCHRITUDE is too low to command the loyalty of elves!!!
You exit the small room through the door.
You find the RUBBER TUBE under your HAT.
You retrieve your TEA SET from your fort. You had been keeping it in there to supplement your imaginative games of make-believe.
You siphon some of the HOT SAUCE into the TEA POT.
You siphon some of the ILLICIT LIQUOR into a TEA CUP.
You decide to leave the SHIT where it is.
You take a small sip from the TEA POT. Your VIM is boosted.
You begin to sweat profusely.
You equip the HAIRPIN.
RATTA TATTA RATTA TATTA TAT
The MACHINE GUN suddenly goes off. The lousy thing has a HAIRPIN trigger.
The bottles are shattered, leaving an UNPLEASANT SLURRY all over the floor.
RATTA TATTA RATTA TATTTA
You drop the MACHINE GUN. You are still too weak to wield it.
It goes off again, and the volatile concoction catches fire!!! Your office is on fire!!!
The SKYLIGHT above jostles. It pops out of place to reveal a SPRINKLER, which has been activated by the smoke.
The SPRINKLER douses the flames.
The SKYLIGHT dangles from its power cord, which is plugged into an outlet on the ceiling.
The water cools you off. Your VIM returns to normal.
1: Blind Willie "Buttermilk" Stubbs
2: Father "Blind Pappy" Ramblin' Jackson
3: Earl Stokes "Can't-see-a-damn" Molasses Fatts
Such extraordinary jazz legends. They bring a tear to your eye.
It seems they are without their instruments though.
You can't remember the notes to that song!
Instead, you play an improvised rendition of a classic Buttermilk Stubbs composition. Things are really starting to cook!
Some icons beneath the plaques are revealed.
Both of the doors are blocked from the other side.
It appears someone has wedged an oboe between the doors.
You imbibe heavily to drown your conflagrative sorrows.
You enter your fort to escape the shrieking nightmare that has swallowed your life whole.
You take the SKYLIGHT.
You take a sip. It only marginally boosts your already naturally high IMAGINATION stat. You will need to consume a much more powerful form of liquor if you wish to boost it much further.
You duck into the fort to escape the freezing downpour.
You hear your phone ringing from the other room.
You gather up the horns.
Beneath the TUBA is a cartridge of TOMMY GUN MUNITION(S).
You supply the musicians with their horns.
A switch appears on the wall.
The power is activated in Pickle Inspector's office.
The fan turns on. The wind from the fan blows the safe shut.
The power in Problem Sleuth's office shuts off.
The phone is still ringing.
You answer the phone in a hard boiled manner. You explain to the woman gruffly that you'd love to help her out, sweetheart, but you're up to your neck in all this weird puzzle shit. You hang up.
The dame explains into the dead receiver, please don't go, she's been trapped in her apartment for hours and needs help.
You enter your imaginary office, now with only two imaginary lives to spare. Try to be a little more careful this time.
Ace Dick and Pickle Inspector are having a chat. You wonder if they are talking about you.
AD: PST PSST PS: ? ?
Ace Dick is whispering something to the lanky fellow. You smell a plot. Your mind furiously sets to work on a way to disrupt their connivings.
A.D. P.S. P.I.
This is the best plan you come up with.
The other two, inspired by your magnificent PULCHRITUDE, rally around you as a leader and follow you toward the exit.
You stop them, reminding them that there is a monster on the street, and they are terribly ill-equipped for the battle. You will all need better armaments.
Pickle Inspector nods sagely. He'll see what he can do.
Problem Sleuth is armed with the CANDY CORN HANDGUN.
Ace Dick is armed with the TOOTSIE ROLL SHOTGUN.
Pickle Inspector is armed with the PEZ UZI.
You copy and paste your previous poses into a new file and animate the background rapidly.
The great beast is ready for battle with a replenished health bar.
Fast-paced organ music and a haunting vocal chorus accompanies your epic struggle.
The beast makes a preemptive assault on your party's leader!!!
Your AUTO-PARRY kicks in. You avoid the savage lunge with your SLEUTH ROLL.
PS > AGGRESS BATTLE TECHNIQUE COMBAT OPERANDI PERSUADE MOLLIFY ABSCOND INSULIN LVL. ANIMAL COMMUNION ELF TEARS
You open your BATTLE MENU and select "AGGRESS".
You fire your CANDY CORN HANDGUN at the monster. It takes heavy damage from the projectile treats.
PI > AGGRESS BATTLE TECHNIQUE COMBAT OPERANDI PERPLEX CONFOUND ABSCOND INSULIN LVL. ANIMAL COMMUNION ELF TEARS
BRAKA BRAKA BRAKA
You follow Problem Sleuth's lead and riddle the beast with high-powered rounds of PEZ.
AD > AGGRESS BATTLE TECHNIQUE COMBAT OPERANDI PERTURB EXASCERBATE ABSCOND INSULIN LVL. ANIMAL COMMUNION ELF TEARS
Ace Dick cocks the TOOTSIE ROLL SHOTGUN and strikes a BRUTAL AFFRONT for massive damage!!!
The beast is slain.
PROBLEM SLEUTH GAINED A LEVEL!
PROBLEM SLEUTH ACCRUED BATTLE TECHNIQUE: SLEUTH DIPLOMACY
PROBLEM SLEUTH CAN COMMUNE WITH THE FOLLOWING ANIMAL(S):
ACE DICK GAINED A LEVEL!
ACE DICK INCREASED STOMACH CAPACITY BY 0.4 LITRES.
ACE DICK INCREASED STOMACH CAPACITY BY 0.5 LITRES.
ACE DICK INCREASED STOMACH CAPACITY BY 0.75 LITRES.
ACE DICK ACHIEVED LEVEL 18 STOMACH PROWESS.
ACE DICK ACCRUED COMBAT OPERANDI: BELLY OF THE WHALE
PICKLE INSPECTOR GAINED A LEVEL!
PICKLE INSPECTOR LEARNED HOW TO IMAGINE THE FOLLOWING ITEM(S):
JAW BREAKER CANNON
GUMMY BEAR I.E.D.
PEANUT BRITTLE DUMBWAITER
ACE DICK GAINED A LEVEL!
ACE DICK ACCRUED BATTLE TECHNIQUE: LV. 2 TRUFFLE SHUFFLE
THE BEAST DROPPED ARTIFACT: POLISHED HORN
The torso cavity is mushy and warm. It makes for a comfortable bucket seat.
Problem Sleuth goes for a stroll.
Its lustre is arresting; its mysteries, unfathomable.
You place the POLISHED HORN in your inventory.
You pick up the BAG OF CANDY CORN.
You take the UGLY DOG.
You do not have enough ELF TEARS to summon the WEASEL KING!
You cannot go up the stairs to Ace's office. The path is blocked by a frightening beast!
Sensing your compatriots are in trouble, you decide to use your powerful legs to leap into battle.
But something distracts you. A light coming from that store front. And music.
It is a dancer, spinning to the tune of a music box.
An unfamiliar face looms large behind it.
You would use COMBAT OPERANDI: BELLY OF THE WHALE with gusto, however your cache of ELF TEARS is dry as a bone!
The beast makes an unexpected pounce!
Pickle Inspector employs a successful AUTO-PARRY, with the technique PICKLE DISTRACTION.
You show the beast what you, and fat kids everywhere, are made of.
The beast suffers minimal damage.
Ace Dick is slain.
The dancer in the window stops spinning. The window goes dark.
The JAW BREAKER CANNON inflicts a SAVAGE UPBRAID for 100x damage!!!
The beast is defeated.
PICKLE INSPECTOR GAINED A LEVEL!
PICKLE INSPECTOR ACCRUED BATTLE TECHNIQUE: LV. 5 DISCONCERTING OGLE
THE BEAST DROPPED ARTIFACT: BURNISHED HORN
You strut your stuff with some fancy footwork.
Problem Sleuth is slain.
You acquire the BURNISHED HORN.
You speed toward Ace's office to make sure he's alright.
STARSKY HUTCH CANDY CORN
Your imaginary body cannot be sustained on the material plane!
Pickle Inspector loses an imaginary life.
Ace Dick is nowhere to be found.
BARF BARF BARF BARF BARF
Ace Dick suffers the unpleasant aftermath of his IMAGINATION binge.
The flames in the still room are doused by a large volume of VOMIT.
Problem Sleuth quenches his hangover with the remainder of the COFFEE.
CHAPTER 5 OF 22
Pickle Inspector returns to the material plane. The office is flooded. The outlet's electricity is shorted out.
Water spills into the small ELF CHAMBER.
One of the elves playing poker waves at you. He seems to beckon for you to join them.
It is too late for him. There is nothing you can do.
This would be a horrible idea even under the best of circumstances.
You pick up the HAIRPIN anyway.
PROBLEM SLEUTH IS OK SORT OF
It looks like an apology note from Ace Dick, or something approximating an apology. Maybe he wants to bury the hatchet after all these years. The mollification is likely on account of your high PULCHRITUDE stat.
This reminds you, now that Pickle Inspector's safe is closed, you can go read that note again.
PROBLEM SLEUTH IS IMPOLITE. VE- RU- ✡ - ♥ - Ω
Sure enough, there is the note. You can now remember the sequence STAR - HEART - HORSESHOE.
You hear the safe opening from the other side...
TOOTSIE ROLL FRANKENSTEIN
You topple backwards and crush your fort.
There is no way to turn it off. You will suffer the same fate as that poor elf if you stay much longer.
You duck into the elves' lair for sanctuary. They activate the emergency shutter to seal off the room.
The elves introduce themselves. ROPO, ZOBO, FOKO, and BLOD all sit around a table playing cards, while strategizing against a common enemy.
You are a little nervous. You dip your head politely to your new hosts.
You spy a small hatch on the floor.
ROPO must insist you cease your snooping. Maybe someone with more PULCHRITUDE could persuade him to see reason.
Despite your most aggressive showing, the elves remain unmoved.
They are obviously emotionally stalwart creatures. Totally implacable.
A♥ 3♦ HUNK RUMP
BLOD notices a pornographic playing card has slipped into the deck. He begins to cry.
You harvest the ELF TEARS in your TEA CUP.
The small portal lights up.
You accidentally drop the HAIRPIN through it. The heavy object shatters the glass.
The face of the phone opens, revealing a hidden chamber. There is a piece of paper inside.
It is sheet music for the song Moonlight Sonata.
You place the SHEET MUSIC in your POCKET.
You enter the speakeasy.
You face NORTH. There is another stunning mural on the wall, as well as a mysterious poster behind the bust.
Wow, what a fucking waste of time!
Your VIM is simply not high enough to dislodge the instrument. It's really stuck!
You've got to be kidding!
The doors are barred from the inside. It sounds like there is someone on the other side who will not let you in.
You will either need a very high VIM rating to knock down the doors, or a high PULICHRITUDE rating to sweet talk your way in.
You sure are proving useless in this room!
You are a little disgusted to find a skeleton in your office. You nevertheless rifle through its belongings.
You take the BAG OF CANDY CORN. The HORNS are unsettling to you for some reason, so you leave them there. Same with the PEZ UZI, which suddenly seems just plain silly!
First you wheel the JAW BREAKER CANNON off to the side.
You pick up the MACHINE GUN. A brute like you is easily able to wield the heavy weapon.
The melody is haunting. No wonder you locked away this music. It is a treasure to the ears.
A compartment is revealed, exposing a powerful industrial fan.
The fan blows the bust across the room, on to the other X.
Problem Sleuth passes the KEY through the dumbwaiter slot.
Ace Dick passes the RING OF KEYS through his slot too.
Ace Dick picks up and loads the HANDGUN with HANDGUN BULLET(S).
Problem Sleuth picks up and loads the TOMMY GUN with TOMMY GUN MUNITION(S).
You go back down the chimney and get the ROPE.
Using your unusually high HEIGHT characteristic, you rig it up to the ceiling pulleys, with the other end tied to the stubborn oboe.
You feed the CANDY CORN into the still. This should brew something with a real kick to it. It will take a moment...
You riddle the ceiling with bullets in a circular pattern.
But nothing seems to happen...
Things are really percolating in there! You'd better head for cover, fast. You won't want to be anywhere near that thing when it's done!
You shut the safe first, sealing it off tight.
And elf pokes his head out of the window. You wave, urging him to get his head down.
This action unsurprisingly results in your death.
The front wall has been obliterated. Your office is now an inferno, but you are free to leave it.
The sprinkler system goes on.
You feel the whole building shake. Was that an explosion?
You hear a cracking noise from above.
The bust falls on the piano.
The oboe is dislodged.
Parts of the wall and ceiling have collapsed. The path is blocked!
Looks like the path here is blocked too.
Allies are united for the first time on the material plane. You eye each other with suspicion.
You dump the liquor out of your TEAPOT and fill it with ELF TEARS.
You equip the HANDGUN, a weapon more suited to your physical strength.
You fill Problem Sleuth's FLASK with the ELF TEARS.
You collect some of the potent CANDY CORN LIQUOR in your TEAPOT.
You wonder what the fuck happened out here.
The exit is locked! You will need the fabled MEGATON KEY to open the door. Legend has it that only the strongest man on Earth may lift this key.
Water from the flooded room spills into the hall, dousing the flames.
Using your advanced political acumen, you PERSUADE the party on the other side of the door to let you in.
The door unlocks.
CHAPTER 6 OF 22
There is a large door guarded by two SURLY THUGS.
The door is locked. It looks like it will require more weird puzzle shit to open it.
There are three skull-shaped grooves on the wall.
Wrong adventure, dumbass!
<- GO BACK
The thugs are advancing menacingly. It seems the sway of your charisma has worn off!
You obtain the ACE DICK SKULL.
> BATTLE TECHNIQUE > SLEUTH DIPLOMACY COMPROMISE PAX SUMMON HENRY CLAY UNCONDITIONAL SURRRENDER SUMMON HENRY CLAY LV. 2
You comb through your list of BATTLE TECHNIQUES for a peaceful, diplomatic solution to the conflict.
You expend 1 ELF TEAR(S).
You acquaint the SURLY THUGS with your brand of diplomacy.
Pickle Inspector returns with the skull.
PS AD PI
You place the Ace Dick skull in the middle slot.
You retrieve your ally's skull and drop it through the skylight.
You prepare to use the instrument as an oversized snorkel. But as should have been obvious to you, the room is no longer filled with water.
You have absolutely no idea how to solve this stupid puzzle and open the doors. As a last ditch effort, you think it's finally time to summon His Majesty.
You expend 3 ELF TEARS(S).
You had enough ELF TEAR(S), but unfortunately in order to summon the WEASEL KING you will need some WEASEL SNOT.
The WEASEL EMISSARY appears instead.
You use your strong sense of animal communion to commune with the Emissary. He communes back, communing concern over whether he can trust you.
TOGGLE ANALOGUE STICK WEASELS ALLEGIANCE ELVES
You must make a choice. To which group does your allegiance belong?
PROBLEM SLEUTH PRESS START
WEASELS ALLEGIANCE ELVES
The Emissary flips the fuck out!
Pickle Inspector politley suggests that he be allowed to try something first, before such extreme measures are taken.
The Emissary's hysterical state appears to subside.
You enter the small room and throw the switch.
The room starts to travel upward, like an elevator.
The Emissary appears pleased.
He explains that his people face a critical impasse. They require your help.
He asks if you can spare exactly 1 HERO(ES) from your ranks to help them with their plight. It is imperative that this chosen one have an unusually high HEIGHT characteristic, for reasons that remain mysterious.
The Emissary thanks you. He and Pickle Inspector disappear into the portal.
Ace Dick arrives at the elevator's destination floor. It appears to be some sort of control room.
There is an array of monitor displays, as well as a CODE MACHINE sitting on the table.
Four nations at war. You wonder who the warring parties are, and why they can't just get along.
It looks like some rooms are under surveillance.
The door is blocked from the other side!
It can only open part of the way, into a very dark room. It bumps up against something totally immovable.
The hatch, shockingly, is locked.
There appears to be a convoluted puzzle on the opposite wall. Perhaps it will open the hatch.
You are pretty dull and not very creative though. You have no idea how to solve it.
Yes. YES! None stand taller than you in this realm. You are a giant among men!
There are no weasels around to be impressed, however.
You stand amidst a field of SALTED MELONS.
Oh hell, you forgot to switch your ALLEGIANCE.
The elves are quite agitated.
The elves are pacified by your gesture of good will.
ROPO, their leader, briefs you on a CRITICAL MISSION. You exhibit signs of being the chosen hero for this mission, of which has long been prophesied by elven lore.
There appears to be some commotion by the tree in the distance.
Some weasels congregate beneath a nest of ELF EGGS. They yearn for the succulent yolk.
If only they had a SAVIOR OF HEIGHT to help them.
The elves are grateful for your bravery. ROPO instructs you to first leave behind all of your material possessions. You cannot be burdened by such things on this quest of the spirit.
You dump everything from your inventory into the skylight, including your HAMMER, ELF TEARS, BUSINESS CARDS, and GAME CODE SHEET.
You drop your TOMMY GUN on the floor. You leave your CANDY CORN where it is, though.
ROPO lifts the table to reveal a hidden hatch.
They look delicious, but you just can't do it. It would just be so impolite!!!
Your valor is lauded robustly.
This is how a real man falls. A man's man.
You better secure your HAT to safeguard the CANDY CORN.
You acquire the GAME CODE.
While you're at it, you grab the flask of ELF TEARS.
You decide to bring your WINDOW with you, so you won't have to go up and down every time some goofball somewhere drops another cool item through the skylight.
You strap the GENERATOR to your back.
You prop the WINDOW up vertically against the wall.
There is a SMALL COTTAGE.
A pair of funny looking hands places a pie on the windowsill to cool.
You recall the CRITICAL MISSION detailed in your briefing.
YOU MUST ABSCOND WITH THE PIE.
You contemplate the civil approach, but you just can't do it. It's too risky!
Besides, you don't have enough MANNERCITE SHARDS in your ETIQUETTE MONSTRANCE for a polite request.
The cottage dwellers appear to be preoccupied. Now is your chance!
You haul ass through the woods. The clowns are hot on your trail.
You walk through the vertical window.
You land on the side of the enormous beast.
It appears the beast has defecated Problem Sleuth's imaginary remains, including his skull.
Suddenly, you hear some music from the storefront window begin to play...
The beast disappears. You fall to your death.
<- GO BACK A FEW TIMES.
You find a PARACHUTE inside. You take it.
The WEASEL EMISSARY comes to grant you a boon.
By tapping the raw energy locked within your ample MANNERCITE SHARDS, you politely accept.
The emissary guides you to the SPIDERHOLE OF DISQUISITION. You are to embark upon a journey of the spirit.
No way!!! You simply cannot spare it!
The ELF EXEMPLAR offers you sanctuary from the cruel rogues.
The exemplar thanks you for your heroism. He accepts the pie and grants you one (1) boon. You are allowed to embark upon a quest of the spirit.
He disappears, leaving you alone in this room with no exit.
The only object in the room is a MAGIC WARDROBE.
You wonder what magical realm this portal will lead you into. There is only one way to find out.
You crash against the back of the wardrobe, which is rock-solid. You fall unconsious.
CHAPTER 7 OF 22
You are a HYSTERICAL DAME. You are trapped in your apartment. You are about to go into a fit of hysterics.
You could really use a strapping fella to come help you out.
You've already got arms, sugartits!
You are quite positive there has never been a teddy bear in your apartment, and never will be. Frankly, the notion strikes you as silly and childish.
It didn't work.
The exertion has increased your HYSTERIA GAUGE.
It's absurd to think there will be any strapping fellas in here, but on a day as strange as this one, who knows??
The drawer is locked.
You shut the WARDROBE. You're not sure what it was doing wide open like that.
INVENTORY WEAPON HANDBAG LOOKIN' FOR A HARD FELLA TO SLEUTH YOUR PROBLEM? THINGS GETTIN' TOO HOT TO HANDLE? NEED A TOUGH STUD TO SORT IT ALL OUT? 1-800-HOT-STUD
Why, it just so happens there is one in your HANDBAG.
Unfortunately, it seems your phone is missing a variety of PHONE PARTS. You can't make the call.
It seems to help a little.
They are nowhere to be found in the room.
Facing EAST, you see your large bedroom window, of course providing its view of the breathtaking urban mural across the street.
On the small table is a locked MUSIC BOX, the key for which you have misplaced.
You really have no idea what to do. You're simply too hysterical to think straight.
3M-2K-BH-JQ 49-LD-6M-ZR Q1-TG-67-8M
You punch the GAME CODE into the CODE MACHINE.
You feel the game around you reconfiguring itself into a different saved state.
After going through a lengthy and mostly pointless series of events, you have finally managed to reassemble your phone. Maybe you can finally call for help and end this nightmare.
However, you have been dialing the number for hours to no avail. There has been no answer. Maybe this time will be the charm?
The man on the phone answers in a hard boiled manner. He explains to you gruffly that he'd love to help you out, sweetheart, but he's up to his neck in all this weird puzzle shit. He hangs up.
You are a little disappointed, but can sympathize with his need to address the weird puzzle shit.
In this state of the game, it appears the really convoluted puzzle has been solved. It probably took hundreds of pages to solve it.
You have no idea who was clever enough to solve that sudoku up there, or tall enough, for that matter.
The solved puzzle appears to have activated a blinking button on the control panel.
It releases the lock on the hatch. A vertical column extends upward. But it bumps into the ceiling before the column's entrance can be fully revealed.
There is not enough space for it to extend into.
In this state of the game, you have finally finished falling. There is no one in the room, and nothing except for a MAGIC MEDICINE CABINET.
You pick up the KNIFE. Its cuddly comfort calms your hysterical condition considerably. (And alliteratively.)
Suddenly you flip out!!! Wielding the TEDDY BEAR has maxed out your HYSTERIA GAUGE.
This is very bad!
The MEDICINE CABINET remains closed, however you do find yourself mildly disconcerted.
Inside, along with some sort of dimensional rift, are ASSORTED MEDICINES.
<- GO BACK
The column extends easily into the ample space provided by the window.
The bulk of the column is lopped off.
You prop the window up over there, plug it back in, and shove the rest of the stuff off to the side.
You enter. The column's stump recedes into the floor.
The window falls over, upside down.
You're not sure why you're flailing around your cute TEDDY BEAR like this.
You look a little closer and see something tied around its neck.
It's a MUSIC BOX KEY.
You put it in your inventory.
A dancer twirls and a sweet melody begins to play.
The mirror becomes illuminated. Something is inside.
It is a dashing man riding a noble mount. Your eyes meet. You are overwhelmed by feelings of longing. Is this the man of your destiny?
The music stops, and you put the music box down. There is something looming out the window.
Your HYSTERIA skyrockets. You feel dizzy, as if you are about to pass out.
You wake up in a strange dark room.
Was that it? Has your quest of the spirit ended? Are the elves pleased?
On the four walls of the room are large stone busts. Each appears to be blocking a doorway.
It won't budge an inch! You are not surprised in the least, since you do not recall ever receiving a boon from the weasel kingdom.
Something mystical is happening with the elf bust. It appears to be momentarily phasing out of this temporal plane. It looks as though you can pass through it.
You hit your head against the rear of the cabinet, spilling all the medicine. You have a splitting headache. Maybe some of these pills will make you feel better.
You take a large dose of the powerful hallucinogens.
You are a NERVOUS BROAD. You wake up locked in your apartment.
For a second, you thought you saw something disappear into the mouse hole.
You land in a mysterious realm. A small band of hogs is there to greet you in the hospitable comfort of a muddy wallow.
Your pulchritude is likely low enough to commune with these creatures.
Hogs: ♥ BOP
The hogs are enamored of your rowdy, no-nonsense brand of ruffianism. Your superiority has been clearly established!
Their leader, PORKHEARST, relates to you the woes of his kind. They crave SALTED MELONS, yet the prize is guarded by a loathsome enemy.
Will you accept this righteous mission?
INVENTORY WEAPON NERVES
You pick up the LIPSTICK. It is a sultry shade of red. Nothing happens, but it makes you a little nervous.
It is a toy carousel affixed atop your full length mirror. It will not turn or play its music without the CAROUSEL KEY.
You do not have the physical strength to close it! If only a tall brawny fella would stop by. Maybe that Pickle gentleman you remember reading about somewhere. Where was his card again?
As you push the mirror, you notice your own reflection. Your frayed nerves have caused you to look dreadful. Your makeup could use some freshening.
You enter the control room.
Hey, look. An old fashioned CODE MACHINE. You wonder if there are any codes lying around to punch into it.
It is a pig sty in here. You wonder what slob was responsible for this mess.
ACE DICK IMAGINARY LEVEL -- 1 SCORE -- 50580 RATING -- BRUSQUE MUG SACRED URNS TOPPLED -- 0 PROBLEM SLEUTH IMAGINARY LIVES -- 1 SCORE -- 78150 RATING -- STANDUP JOHNNY MYSTIC RUINS DESECRATED -- 0 PICKLE INSPECTOR IMAGINARY LIVES -- 2 SCORE -- 46030 RATING -- PRETERNATURAL WISEGUY HALLOWED TOMBS DEFILED -- 0
Something about this idea makes you very nervous. You proceed with nervous caution.
Suddenly you flip out!!! Wielding the LIP STICK has maxed out your NERVES GAUGE.
This is very bad!
You drop the disconcerting instrument. You may think twice before picking it up again. You're not sure if your nerves could take it.
You blindly accept, and begin gathering melons into your parachute.
It appears your intrusion is unwelcome. A weasel nearby is flipping the fuck out.
You consider how to phrase the diplomatic request, but you come up empty. Your ETIQUETTE MONSTRANCE has no MANNERCITE SHARDS!
You beat the weasel to death with your MONSTRANCE.
5G-PR-HU-62 9K-YB-32-BB ML-L4-DQ-5N
You go down the elevator and grab the poster.
As you suspected, there is a GAME CODE printed on the back.
You return to the control room, but first you stop in your office and grab your window. You've grown fond of the thing and sort of missed it. You think it might be cool to have around for whatever reason.
enjoy our wetlands preserve water plant native plants
It's not working! The mural is just too unpleasant!
NB: ? ?
You are quite sure there are no Fancy Santas to be found in your room, but just to be absolutely certain, you look around.
Wait a minute... is that...?
OH FUCK IT'S A BUNCH OF FANCY SANTAS.
It is your prized collection. They always help to calm your nerves.
It appears that one is missing.
DISCONCERTED? NEED A TALL BRAWNY FELLA TO COME BY AND INSPECT YOUR PICKLE? PREHAPS I MAY BE THIS FELLA. 1-800-OGLE-NOW
You pick up the BUSINESS CARD.
The tall brawny fella does not seem to have a phone.
Your NERVES have elevated again.
You accumulate enough WORRY POINTS to add a new NERVETECH to your arsenal: LV. 3 CASE OF THE VAPORS.
You are about to pass out.
You can't! A band of enraged weasels is hot on your trail!
Ah, but there is PORKHEARST! Sweet PORKHEARST. He guides you into a hole in the tree trunk.
PORKHEARST has gratefully accepted the melons and departed, but not before leaving you with a profound quest of the spirit.
Against the wall is a MAGIC BUFFET TABLE. Plated on its surface is a gorgeous feast.
Throbbing magical energy is concealed within the furnishing.
5G-PR-HU-62 9K-Y8-32-BB ML-L4-DQ-5N
You enter the GAME CODE from the pig poster.
The universe around you begins to change.
This code has taken you to an earlier point in the game.
You are Ace Dick, with no conscious knowledge of what just happened.
You have a strange sense of deja vu. You were about to take a PARACHUTE from the panel, but you space out and forget to take it.
There was something else you were about to do. What was it...
You land on the side of the enormous beast.
There is something familiar about this situation as well.
Something unfortunate is about to happen!
You head for the window and notice an enticing skull along the way.
You disregard the mysterious gateway. You would probably only bump your head on the back of the thing anyway.
You partake of the mouthwatering feast.
In spite of your tremendous stomach capacity, you pass out from over-eating.
You feel yourself drifting to another plane of reality.
CHAPTER 8 OF 22
Ace Dick's imagination is too crude to have a female alter ego!
You scurry into a mouse hole on the south wall.
It looks like there is a FANCY SANTA over there. You don't have time to admire its beauty though.
It seems like that GAME CODE did nothing. What a waste of time!
* collage mess
<- GO BACK
The occult bust weeps tears of blood.
It appears to be some sort of lounge room. Although it looks like the couch is missing.
There are three face-shaped indentations on the wall at different heights.
You miss landing on the brothel by a bit.
You wave to the whores as you pass them by.
HUNK RUMP BLACK INCHES
The table contains smutty material which makes you highly uncomfortable.
The COUCH ARCHETYPIFIER is triggered by the interface afforded through your mighty TALLNESS attribute. It settles upon a couch suitable to your profile.
It's quite an elegant piece of furniture. It looks like your imagination could run wild with it.
The small man reappears from the hole with some LIPSTICK.
You cautiously appraise the cosmetic accessory. There is nothing unusual about it at all, and there is no reason whatsoever for your HYSTERIA gauge to elevate.
You start flipping out with the CHAINSAW.
You saw the Fancy Santa in half. There was a CAROUSEL KEY inside.
It's a lustrous head of hair. You've always been pretty insecure about your baldness, and maybe it's finally time you did something to boost your self esteem.
You take the PRUSSIAN KÜRASSIER HELMET.
The powerful liquor maxes out your IMAGINATION gauge. Your lithe frame can barely contain the raw power, causing you to feel mildly disconcerted.
You are possessed by violent imaginative numina. You feel as if you can bend this entire continuum to your will. You can do anything!
A loathsome beast approaches.
It appears the realm below is locked in escalating conflict. These warring parties clearly need a diplomatic savior.
You land in an enchanted palace.
You bow before His Majesty. The tale of his kingdom's sorrows plucks at your heartstrings. He has a royal appointment for you which you cannot refuse!
You thought you saw something moving by your window.
You take a look outside, and notice an exceptional work of art.
The mural seems to be a single tile in one of those really cool but somewhat dated photo mosaics.
The mosaic appears to be printed on the opposing wall of a gigantic office.
Whoever was occupying this office has likely been trapped in here for some time. This seems like a safe assumption to you.
But the office is empty. From the vantage of your doll house window, it looks like someone has just vanished into a portal in the floor.
Your imagination is like an untamed stallion bucking through the cavity in your imaginary skull. There are so many ways to deal with this beast, you can't possibly attempt them all.
Or can you?
You slice your cherished lockbox in half. (actually it was a music box)
The small, terrified man has taken the CAROUSEL KEY and fled.
The beast invokes COMBAT OPERANDI: Lv. 18 BELLY OF THE WHALE. One of your duplicates is swallowed whole.
Once inside, you quickly set about turning its various organs into delcious candy. The beast suffers moderate damage.
One of your duplicates decides to achieve deity status. He now resides as the serene, omnipotent master of all realities. Godhead Pickle Inspector will no longer respond to any user commands other than "GPI: Fondly regard creation."
You transform into an absolutely grotesque monster.
In this form, you quickly dispatch the lesser beast.
But now Monster Pickle Inspector is out of control! It will only respond to user command "MPI: Succumb to unfathomable bloodlust."
I think perhaps you've misunderstood.
You gladly accept your duty and are honored by His Lordship's trust.
You don the Royal Diplomat's tunic and head garland, and accept perhaps the most potent weapon of the kingdom, the legendary TECTRIX OF THE ARBITOR.
You think the getup is a little silly though, so you change back into your normal clothes.
You take up the head of the negotiating table with high ranking officials from the four kingdoms. A map of disputed territory is handy. You listen with sage composure as the representatives list their countrymen's grievances.
SNEAK SNEAK SLAP
The HOG PROVOST relates with measured dismay recent events which have thrown the entire kingdom out of balance. Recently, a mysterious visitor has been abetting clown-kind, helping them to slap the plump, unsuspecting rumps of innocent hogs. This has triggered a most pronounced and unwelcome escalation.
This situation is clearly a diplomatic mine field. One misstep could send the realm into oblivion. You will have to tread carefully, and choose your balance of alignments wisely.
CARTESIAN AGREEMENT VIEW LEGATION TOPOGRAPHY BILATERAL SPLIN NUDGE CONCILIATE POLYGONS CHANGE DETENTE METER (HOLD) OPEN MODUS VIVENDI PANEL RATIFY NURBS DRAFT EXEQUATUR / TEXTURE MAP PEAKEN VALLIFY DODGE ISSUE LEFT DODGE ISSUE RIGHT NORMALIZE VERTICES ROTATE AXIS TOGGLE CAMERA MODE STRAFE SUBJECT LEFT STRAFE SUBJECT RIGHT F8: VIEW CONTROL MENU B
GAME FUCKING OVER
Lookin' for a tough brute? This hard dick is your ace in the hole. 1-800-ACE-DICK
This sounds like exactly what you are looking for.
The line is busy. You wonder who he could be talking to.
The whores say they will be right over. They take off in the whore-mobile.
Ace wakes up in the pentagram room.
You're not totally sure, but you think this means there are now three Ace Dicks running around.
You enter the room through the vanishing hog bust.
There is a computer station along with a DOT MATRIX PRINTER and a PUNCH CARD MACHINE, which is on the floor for some reason.
Moster Pickle Inspector is going berzerk! He employs BATTLE TECHNIQUE: LV. 48 DISCONCERTING OGLE.
Half your party is slain, leaving 3 remaining, including the one piloting the mecha.
Well, ok you don't have a lazer, but you pump the beast full of hot sugar. It suffers moderate damage.
In a fit of cowardice, the beast absconds!
It looks like the little fellow had brought you your CAROUSEL KEY. What a kind small man.
Something is happening to the mirror.
There is something funny whirling in the sky.
Ace Dick busts through the door and smacks the beast with the ROMANCE NOVEL, dealing a BRUTAL AFFRONT.
The beast is slain.
You wonder where Nervous Broad went.
PICKLE INSPECTOR GAINED A LEVEL!
PICKLE INSPECTOR EXCELLED TO NEW RATING: PIQUANT ARISTOCRAT
PICKLE INSPECTOR ACCRUED COMBAT OPERANDI: ABSTRACTED THOUGHT
ACE DICK GAINED A LEVEL!
ACE DICK INCREASED STOMACH CAPACITY BY 3.3 LITRES.
ACE DICK INCREASED STOMACH CAPACITY BY 4.2 LITRES.
ACE DICK INCREASED STOMACH CAPACITY BY 6.8 LITRES.
ACE DICK ACHIEVED LEVEL 26 STOMACH PROWESS.
ACE DICK ACCRUED COMBAT OPERANDI: CHECK YO'SELF JONAH
ACE DICK EXCELLED TO NEW RATING: JOWLY ROUGHNECK
PICKLE INSPECTOR GAINED A LEVEL!
VIM: PICKLE INSPECTOR HAS LOST HIS VIM GAUGE ENTIRELY
PICKLE INSPECTOR HAD LEARNED A NEW TYPE OF OGLE: DISQUIETING LEER
PICKLE INSPECTOR ACCRUED COMBAT OPERANDI: TEMPORAL REPLICSIMILE
THE BEAST DROPPED ARTIFACT: FERRUGINOUS HORN
You are transfixed by its rich, rust colored patina. It's probably worth a fortune.
It dispenses a PUNCH CARD.
The aging machine noisily performs tens if not hundreds of mind boggling computations per second.
The DOT MATRIX PRINTER churns out a PRINTOUT.
ALCHEMICAL FORMULA PRODUCT 5 ALARM HOUR SAUCE INGREDIENT BREAKDOWN (1) POLISHED HORN (1) BURNISHED HORN (1) FERRUGINOUS HORN (1) CHIPOTLE PEPPER
You draw a line around the door with the LIPSTICK.
You fade from the imaginary reality, leaving your final duplicate behind.
Pickle Inspector has woken from his fort-trance. He is now capable of functioning in reality while still maintaining a presence in the imaginary realm!
Mobster Kingpin finishes his soul quest. He emerges from the experience inwardly enriched and full of wisdom.
All quests have been completed. The curse has been nullified. The statues have been banished forever.
CHAPTER 9 OF 22
This is complete bullshit. You have no idea what to do with this stupid mesh or how to solve this crisis. You resolve to find some help.
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* ASCII art titlescreen: Problem Sleuth PRESS START MS Paint Adventures Walkthrough By: Andrew Hussie Started on: August 13, 2008 Completed on: E-Mail: firstname.lastname@example.org Table of Contents 1. Introduction 2. Version History 3. Items 4. Weapons 5. Characters 6. Storyline 7. Controls 8. Game Basics 9. Walkthrough 10. Bosses 12. Battle Techniques 13. Combat Operandi 14. Character Ratings 15. Hallowed Tomb Locations 16. Bonus Candy Corn 17. Ogling Guide 18. Portal FAQs 19. Weasel Communion Tips 20. Dos and Don'ts on Diplomacy 21. Sacred Urn Checklist 22. Maps to Mystic Runes 23. Problem Sleuth's Case Files 24. Business Card Walkthrough 25. Codes n' Secrets 26. Copyright 27. Contact Info 28. Credits |=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—| | 1. Introduction | |=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—| So ok this is the third mspaint adventure called "Problem Sleuth" and it's a little (ok a lot!) longer than the other obnes like Bards quest and Jail Break. And its also harder to solve with lots of puzzles and more hard boiled lugs and nerveous dames to save then ever! So hang in there and we'll go through the adventure together, it will take a lot of IMAGINATION and some VIM and yes just a little bit of PULCHRITUDE too!!! |=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—| | 2. Version History | |=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—| As with every other guide that I've wrote, this guide is my own property! I happily made this for all to enjoy and to use, and all that I ask is that if you are planning on using this for your site, then just ask me for permission ok. I'm really easy to get along with and generally don't mind it so long as you ask for my permission first. Don't go thinking "Oh he'll never say ok, lets just rip the guide and post it anyways" because that's a flawed way of thinking. Just give it a shot sometime and you may be surprised! My e-mail box is always open! Time to get started with the adventure at hand! |=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—| | 3. Items | |=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—| -- KEY -- Description: You're quite sure there has never been a KEY on your desk, and never will be. Location: On PS's desk. Steal From: BORTHRAX, FLUTHLU, JELLIED DEMONGEIST Use with: HANDGUN BULLETS (MAX 6) Alchemy Guide: (3) CANDY CORN + (1) RUBBER TUBE + (2) ELF HAT = (1) KEY. (1) KEY + (8) DROPS WEASEL SNOT + (1) CODE MACHINE = (1) TOOTSIE ROLL. NOTE: Sells for 17 SPONDULICKS. -- TUBA -- Description: Filthiest horn you've ever seen. You'd sooner press your blowhole to the dick of a rowdy leper. Location: PS's back room, + in Elf Princess's tower. Steal From: LV. 86 EARL MOLASSES FATTS-WRAITH Use with: HORN POLISH, FATTS PAINTING, LIPS + MELODY + SOUL Alchemy Guide: (8) STRANDS PIANO WIRE + (6) GLASS SHARD + (1) ROMANCE NOVEL = (1) TUBA. (2) TUBA + (1) COUCH CUSHION + (1) IMAGINARY GRAMMAPHONE = (1) SACRED URN. NOTE: Sells for 0 SPONDULICKS. (200 if properly polished) -- SALTED MELON -- Description: Lusted after by hog-kind, nurtured protectively by weasel- nation. Luscious mouthwatering contraband. Diplomatic quagmire. Location: Weasel orchard, under WB's bed, behind speakeasy counter, in clown cottage, inside PS's reel-to-reel machine, inside Starsky bust, above dumbwaiter in PS's back room, behind hot sauce still, in dumpster in imaginary alley, in crawlspace between HD's and NB's rooms. Steal From: WEASELS, WEASEL KIND, MORTHOL DRYAX'S BONEGUARD MOUNT. Use with: MUSTARD, A LITTLE HORSERADISH, EAGER HOG Alchemy Guide: (1) MACHINE GUN + (10,000) PEZ = (1) SALTED MELON. (10) SALTED MELON + (1) CURTAIN ROD + (1) BRASS KNUCKLE = (1) REFULGENT HORN. NOTE: Sells for 3 SPONDULICKS. -- CHIPOTLE PEPPER -- Description: Hottest pepper this side of the Rio Grande! Better have a strong stomach capacity before braving this vegetable. Location: Under Ace Dick's hat. Steal From: Ace Dick. Use with: HOT SAUCE STILL. Alchemy Guide:
* ASCII art rendition of first room |=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—| | 9. Walkthrough | |=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—=—| Here is a complete walkthrough of this game for beginning to end. THE FIRST ROOM: OH NO YOU'RE TRAPPED! ------------------------------------- Yes that's right. Get used to it! It happens a lot in this game, anyway, so your going to want to start messing around with a lot of stupid and useless sounding commands to waste as much time as possible and get no where. But I can help you get through some of this faster by saving you some time... but I will still be thorough so you dont miss anything... ok here we go. COMMAND: Quickly retrieve arms from safe. Try not to be fooled by the fact that the guy does not have arms! This will happen a lot in the game, you'll say where's his arms? But don't worry, he has them, its just you can't see them usually. Try to resist asking where his arms are. COMMAND: Retrieve your gun, there are dames to be rescued! There is your gun sitting on your desk, it looks really tempting to pick up and shoot... but wait not so fast, there is this weird glitch in the game that happens a lot, you'll see, it turns into a key. Ok, next lets see if we can do some thing about that door.
-- SLEUTH DIPLOMACY -- Description: Allows you to acquaint recipient with your brand of diplomacy. Required Character Rating: DAPPER SWAIN Elf Tears: (1) weasel Snot: (0) Hog Slop: (0) Pie Filling: (0) Attack power: 33 Brutal Affront: 2% Savage Upbraid: 1.3% -- SUMMON HENRY CLAY -- Description: The Great Compromiser wheels and deals on your behalf, for a fee. Required Character Rating: PICAROON'S SCOURGE Elf Tears: (0) weasel Snot: (1) Hog Slop: (0) Pie Filling: (3) Attack power: -- Spondulicks levied: 3500 -- SEPULCHRITUDE -- Description: Righteous fire of charisma. Consumes recipient, host, and all who surround in scathing cyclone of personal charm. Required Character Rating: GROOM T0 THE HABERDASHER'S DAUGHTER Elf Tears: (36) weasel Snot: (12) Hog Slop: (18) Pie Filling: (29) Attack power: 480,000 Dire Animadversion: 100% [x] Find: diplomacy Next Previous Highlight all Match case
* ASCII art -- CHEAT CODE 1328 -- This is for that hard part with the four kingdoms that involves every trick of diplomacy you've learned on to this point...! The kingdoms are not getting a long so Problem Sleuth has to negotiate a solution. (see part 54.3 in walkthru for this... also make sure you've sharpened the tetrix of the arbitor and have obtained the ink of squid pro quo, it will really help...) People complain that its basically impossible but personally i like to just use the Allegiance Mesh and get through it and not cheat, but if you just don't have the time you can use this code to get passed it. 2E - 55 - GM - OC 13 - CA - PQ - 32 FT - 4M - 88 - CZ [x] Find: diplomacy Next Previous Highlight all Match case
The DOT MATRIX PRINTER prints out your code.
It is a luxurious above ground pool. It looks refreshing.
It also appears to have a jacuzzi setting.
Not taking any chances, you toss the horn in before going for a dip.
Something comes out of the manhole over there.
You put the FERRUGINOUS HORN in your inventory.
You take the POLISHED HORN and the BURNISHED HORN from your office.
It's sort of a pain in the ass getting around this place.
You deposit the POLISHED HORN, the BURNISHED HORN, and the FERRUGINOUS HORN into the still hatch.
You retrieve the CHIPOTLE PEPPER from your HAT, and put that in as well.
It will be a little while before it is ready.
You turn the key and enter the portal.
The small Ace Dick follows you through.
The candy mecha walks out the door for some reason.
You are surprised to find yourself as a giant Hysterical Dame. It causes you to feel slightly more hysterical.
Small Ace Dick is now a normal-sized Ace Dick.
The pool begins to bubble vigorously.
Something appears in the sky above the manhole.
You've already got arms, shitforbrains!
You're quite sure there are no BRASS KNUCKLES on your desk. That space has clearly been reserved for the MEGATON KEY.
You retrieve the CHEAT CODE.
There is a big mess in here. It looks like there was a fun puzzle that you would have really enjoyed solving, especially that sudoku up there. Alas, to your eye, it has already been solved perfectly.
It looks like your candy corn liquored-up imaginary self is floating out there. You wonder what he wants.
You split into two Pickle Inspectors. One of them disappears into the past, the other, into the future.
You appear in the past and enter the window to find Ace Dick struggling to solve a difficult puzzle.
You think you could probably take a crack at it. In particular, that sudoku is tickling your puzzle bone.
SUDOKU | * 1 | B 1 | 4 | |357 2 | 3 3 28| 5 4 4 | | | 5 um | 5 x 7 | ------------------------- | 5 | 1 4 | | | 7 | @ | 2 | | | 7 8 | 9 | ------------------------- | 8 7 | 3 6 9 | | | 4 | 1 6 ? | 3 | | 5 | 3 0 | 5 | Beautiful DREAM GIRL ♡ ♡ ♡ PEW PEW IMPOLITE!!
The rest of this puzzle should be a breeze.
In a little while, you solve the rest of the puzzle, blowing yourself up in the process. The physical world can no longer sustain your imaginary body.
Godhead Pickle Inspector thinks you should just relax and have fun, and not worry too much about it.
But if you need a refresher on what's actually going on with all these character duplicates and time-bending shenanigans, he offers the scoop.
There is still only one Problem Sleuth, who is off in some enchanted land sifting through a political crisis.
There is one real Pickle Inspector, and there were 8 imaginary Pickle Inspectors. All but two of them were killed, and one became GPI. The other one just split into two, and one of those just went back in time and died. The other one went into the future, possibly to reappear some time later. This means there is now one real Pickle Inspector in the present, and one imaginary one in the future.
There are 3 Ace Dicks, for the following reasons.
PS, AD and PI each have a lady counterpart, in accordance with deep seated mythology that dictates that any man secretly wishes to have sex with a female version of himself (re: Alvin and the Chipmunks, Mickey/Minnie, etc.) HD is PS's counterpart, NB is PI's, while AD is his own counterpart because he has a very poor imagination. So that's one duplicate AD, the one with the wig/helmet.
Also, a while ago AD used a game code to restore an earlier state in the game. That earlier version of AD went through the storefront and out the music box and became small AD. Meanwhile, the present AD went about his business in the present.
That makes 3 Ace Dicks, the normal one, the small one with the skull (though now normal-sized), and the girl one, who is not actually a girl.
See, how hard was that???
Pickle Inspector in the present enters the cheat code.
Reality bends around you. You feel as if you are about to skip a lot of really difficult and boring parts of the game.
SUCCESSFUL POLITICAL NEGOTIATION!
Problem Sleuth has penned an accord among the four kingdoms. Parades choke rural hamlets. Statues erect. Peace prevails.
View Document Comments Forms Tools Advanced Window Help Create PDF Combine Files Export Sign Forms Review & Comment 1 / 206 54.5% Pages Options Treaty of the Sleuth's Intercession August 17, 2008 Treaty Sections: 1. Articles 1-26 The Convenant of the League of Kingdoms 2. Articles 27-30 Boundaries of Melon Orcharding 3. Articles 31-117 Political Clauses for Muddy Wallowlands 4. Articles 118-158 Clown Rights and Interests Outside Pie Filling Veins 5. Articles 149-213 Military, Naval and Air Clauses 6. Articles 214-226 Prisoners of War and Graves 7. Articles 227-230 Penalties 8. Articles 231-247 Reparations 9. Articles 2480263 Elf Egg Clauses 10. Articles 264-312 Porcine Dignity Clauses and Rump Sovereignty 11. Articles 313-320 Aerial Navigation 12. Articles 321-386 Ports, Weasel Snotways and Filling Pipelines 13. Articles 387-399 Labour, Egg Harversting, Produce Cultivation 14. Articles 400-427 Procedure and Motion for Cessation of Elf Tears 15. Articles 428-433 Guarantees, Slapping Caveats 16. Articles 434-440 Miscellaneous Provisions Articles 1-26 The Convenant of the League of Kingdoms THE HIGH CONTRACTING PARTIES, In order to promote international co-operation and to achieve international peace and security by the acceptance of obligations not to resort to war by the prescription of open, just and honourable relations between kingdoms by the firm establishment of the understandings of international law as the actual rule of conduct among Governments, and by the maintenance of justice and a scrupulous respect for all treaty obligations in the dealings of organised peoples with one another Agree to this Covenant of the League of Kingdoms. ARTICLE I. The original Members of the League of Kingdoms shall be those of the Signatories which are named in the Annex to this Covenant and also such of those other States named in the Annex as shall accede without reservation to this Covenant. Such accession shall be effected by a Declaration deposited with the Clown Secretariat within two months of the coming into force of the Covenant Notice and with conscription of 4000 litres of Pie Filling to the Secretariat frpm State's share of Mutual Filling Reserve, subject to approvals and authored witenss of the Hog Prothonorary's snout stamp. Any fully self- governing State, Dominion or Colony not named in the Annex may become a Member of the League if its admission is agreed to by two-thirds of the Assembly, provided that it shall give effective guarantees of its sincere intention and effects regularly audited emoluments to the Weasel Kind in increments of Acceptably Commuted Egg Collateral [SEE FAIR EGG ACT, ARTICLE 251]. Any Member of the League may, after two years' notice of its intention so to do, withdraw from the League, provided that all its international obligations fulfilled at the time of its withdrawal, and its Internationally Regulated Orcharding Militias responsibly disbanded at the oversight of the Assistant Weasel Actuary. ARTICLE 2. The action of the League under this Covenant shall be effected through the instrumentality of an Assembly and of a Council, with a permanent Clown Secretariat. ARTICLE 3.
Articles 248-263 Elf Egg Clauses PART IX. ARTICLE 248. Subject to such exceptions as the Elven Reparation Commission may approve, a first charge upon all the Oviary Assets and Revenues of the Weaselic Empire and its constituent States shall be the cost of reparation and all other costs arising under the present Treaty or any traties or agreements supplementary thereto. Arrangements for cessation of hostility concluded between Weaselic and the Allied and Associated Powers during the Armistice or its extensions shall hold contingent to the terms of Commuted Egg Collateral, whereby agreed upon substitution eggs shall back currency and comprehensive fiscal reserve of Assembly under this Convenant. Up to May 1, 2009, the Weaselic Government shall not export or dispose of, and shall forbid the export or disposal of, elf eggs without the previous approval of the Allied and Associated Powers acting through the Elven Reparation Commission chaired by the presiding Elf Apparatchik. ARTICLE 249. There shall be paid by the Weaselic Government the total cost of all armies of the Allied and Associated Governments in occupied Weaselic territory from the date of the signature of the Armistice of November 11, 2007, including the keep of men and beasts, lodging and billeting, pay and allowances, salaries and wages, bedding, heating, lighting, clothing, equipment, harness and saddlery, armament and rolling-stock, rump ointment, elven nesting supplies such as dry detritus, kindling, fagot bundles, pheasant down and hog slop, brokered conciliation among hog slop suppliers and elven resellers and reparation of trade routes, and in general the cost of all administrative or technical services the working of which is necessary for the
Articles 214-226 Prisoners of War and Graves SECTION I. PRISONERS OF WAR. ARTICLE 214. The repatriation of prisoners of war and interned civilians shall take place as soon as possible after the coming into force of the present Treaty and shall be carried out with the greatest rapidity. ARTICLE 215. The repatriation of Weaselic prisoners of war and interned civilians shall, in accordance with Article 214, be carried out by a Commission composed of representatives of the Allied and Associated Powers. The Commission shall repatriate citizens as accorded by their Government's Repatriation Mandates, as Covenant's Dignity Clauses shall specify [SEE PORCINE DIGNITY CLAUSES, ELVEN AGITATION NORMALIZATION PROCEDURES UNDER THE TEAR PRESERVATION ACT, MORATORIAM ON BAKER'S RIGHTS VIOLATIONS AS ITEMIZED IN APPENDICES DRAFTED IN ACCORDANCE THE HARLEQUIN ENNOBLEMENT TRUST, AND ALL MANDATES WHOSE ACTIONABLE LEVERAGE SHALL BE IMPACTED THROUGH THE UPDATED WEASELIC DOSSIER CITING THE MELON ORCHARDER'S PROTECTED SOVEREIGNTY ACT]. SECTION II. GRAVES.
Articles 264-312 Porcine Dignity Clauses and Rump Sovereignty PART X. SECTION 1. HIND QUARTERS REGULATIONS, DUTIES AND RESTRICTIONS. ARTICLE 264. Clown Kingdom and Affiliated States undertake tenet of universally upheld Signatory Doctrine inscribing this truth, one and all rumps shall be regarded as sovereign inviolable territory, which if breached through aggressive instrument of unwelcome slap, spank, or such michievous interface between plam and tender portion as outlined cleatly [SEE SWINE DECENCY ANNEXT WITHIN REDRAFTED PORK HARRASSMENT COMPENDIUM] this body shall be held in breach of this Treaty's Contractual Bond. ARTICLE 265. Signators shall recognize the Clown Kingdom's inalienable right to satisfy slapping requirements and shall agree to strict concessions accommodating ally's rump-driven economy and culture. In satisfaction of each 112 RUMP SURROGATE ACTS, and appointed Hog Procurator shall select no fewer than one hundred hogs who shall serve as rump surrogates at rotated intervals of seven months. A selection of suitably soft slapping gloves shall be presented to the Procurator for approval, and most be worn in oversignt by a designated Elf Archvicar. The Kingdom wiull not maintain or impose any prohibition
His Majesty approves. The treaty is ratified by royal decree. All is well.
PROBLEM SLEUTH GAINED A LEVEL!
PROBLEM SLEUTH EXCELLED TO NEW RATING: GUTSY CUSTOMER
PROBLEM SLEUTH ACCRUED BATTLE TECHNIQUE: LV. 10 SLEUTH DIPLOMACY
PROBLEM SLEUTH ACCRUED BATTLE TECHNIQUE: FAIR SHAKE
PROBLEM SLEUTH GAINED A LEVEL!
PROBLEM SLEUTH EXCELLED TO NEW RATING: GROOM TO THE HABERDASHER'S DAUGHTER
PROBLEM SLEUTH ACCRUED BATTLE TECHNIQUE: BRASS TACKS
PROBLEM SLEUTH ACCRUED COMBAT OPERANDI: SEPULCHRITUDE
THE KING DROPPED ARTIFACT(S):
(1) ROYAL CHEMISTRY SET
(100) DROP(S) ELF TEARS
(100) DROP(S) WEASEL SNOT
(100) DROP(S) HOG SLOP
(100) DROP(S) PIE FILLING
(1) MUNITIONS BAG
(1000) ROUND(S) HANDGUN AMMO
(10000) ROUND(S) TOMMY GUN AMMO
(100000) ROUND(S) MACHINE GUN AMMO
(1) BATTERY PACK
(1) EXTENTION CORD
You head for the skull slots, but along the way, to save time, you just drop it through the SKYLIGHT for Problem Sleuth to pick up.
Problem Sleuth eyes his own SKULL with unease.
You wonder why the skulls seem so much smaller than your own head, but you're not about to get hung up on that detail.
You pick up the SKULL, along with the other stuff lying around including the TOMMY GUN and the SKYLIGHT, because hey you might as well.
You load the TOMMY GUN to capacity using the MUNITIONS BAG.
You plug the SKYLIGHT into the BATTERY PACK.
You subject the skittish prohibition-era flapper to your vulgar overtures, making a number of unseemly references to her swell set of glad rags and swanky pair of gams. You suggest in no uncertain terms she is the berries and the bee's knees all in one.
Your advances go over like a lead balloon.
Enraged by the chilly reception, you give the gal a good shiner and remind her that there's still plenty of room on Whore Island.
Hysterical Dame is not pleased by Mobster Kingpin's treatment of her housemate.
The BRASS KNUCKLES are so heavy, the desk breaks in half under the extreme weight.
You've jerked around with that pool enough. It's time for action.
You grab your ROMANCE NOVEL and your BOX OF CHOCOLATES and gear the fuck up for some hardcore fisticuffs.
You go through the door once guarded by the clown bust.
It's a strange back room.
There is an open safe. Violent noises are coming from that room.
Horsefeathers, these bearcats have claws!!!
Mobster Kingpin takes no damage, and remains impervious to all physical attacks.
All three skulls are in the appropriate slots.
The double doors are unlocked.
It is hard to see through the portholes. They do not appear to be receiving any power.
The MEGATON KEY is too heavy to lift at your current VIM level.
IMAGINATION PULCHRITUDE VIM
You roll the dice.
As luck would have it, your VIM gauge maxes out.
Hysterical Dame is down for the count.
The small mecha releases a confectionary barrage.
Mobster Kingpin takes the tasty brunt of it in his pie hole.
Mobster Kingpin's BLOOD SUGAR elevates slightly, making him briefly susceptible to physical attacks.
Nervous Broad deals a blow for minor damage.
Enraged, Mobster Kingpin picks up the DOLL HOUSE and gets rid of it.
The door is blocked from the other side, so he has no choice but to throw it through the window.
With quick thinking, the candy mecha jumps into the pool first.
The mecha lands hard on the street, causing major damage to surrounding buildings.
The office window is knocked loose to the street below.
The skylight window also appears to have loosened from the concrete.
The DOLL HOUSE tumbles through the sky.
It lands on the candy mecha.
You're here for two things: to fucking ruin someone's shit, and to play a friendly game of make-believe.
AND YOU'RE ALL OUT OF IMAGINATION.
The doors lock behind you permanently.
CHAPTER 10 OF 22
A mob of Surly Thugs is there to welcome you.
Man, you wish you thought of that before you went in. That would have been so badass.
You are predicably detected almost immediately, and are socked right in the kisser in a very much non-undetected way.
You suffer a loss of 1 VITALITY CARAT from your PLUCK RELIQUARY.
You ask for your hat back.
You prepare to unleash your most devastating attack. The thugs cower in mortification.
But you decide not to bring that noise just yet. You just go with Sleuth Diplomacy instead.
The defeated Surly Thugs drop 14,250 SPONDULICKS.
You pick up the loot and progress to the next level.
You grab the OFFICE WINDOW and the SKYLIGHT, and head up to your office window.
You leave behind Problem Sleuth's OFFICE WINDOW because it is just too damn heavy and cumbersome.
You go to the skull slot room. The doors unfortunately are locked. It will probably take about double your own considerable strength to bust through them.
GULP BLOOD SUGAR
You lob a HAND GRENADE into MK's mouth.
His BLOOD SUGAR level rises again.
Now is the ideal time to attack!
FINAL BOSS BLOOD SUGAR
Pickle Inspector seizes the opportunity and draws his KEY.
He takes careful aim, but suddenly becomes distracted by that enchanting lady over there. Her beauty is like nothing he's ever imagined.
He accidentally shoots Ace Dick.
Ace Dick completes a successful AUTO-PARRY!
He takes the bullet directly in the gut.
It is an incredibly painful and debilitating wound!
You fan MK with juicy pages from your ROMANCE NOVEL, dealing moderate damage.
The flourid tales fill MK's bosom with rhapsodic passions! His EMOTIONS level rises.
The rising meter drains his IMAGINATION, PULCHRITUDE, and VIM gauges.
Problem Sleuth reaches level 2.
You are confronted with a nasty pincer formation of thugs, and two frightening beasts!
It appears the supply of malefactors is being persistently replenished from a realm bridged through a SLIDING GLASS DOOR.
PLUCK RELIQUARY BONK
The thugs take you to task with an array of BULLY TRUNCHEONS and ROUSTABOUT CLUBS.
You lose a few more VITALITY CARATS.
Agitation in the configuration of your PLUCK RELIQUARY unsettles mysterious forces of communion from afar.
EMPATHY CHARM BREAK
Hysterical Dame's EMPATHY MAGPIE begins to flap harder.
She regains consciousness with an extra spring in her step.
She is a few notches closer to maxing out on her CHARM BREAK! meter.
Your PULCHRITUDE stat surges.
You'll need it to rally your boys. This is all out war.
Ace Dick absorbs the brunt of an outrageous honking, floppy-shoed assault.
Several GUMPTION WAFERS are depleted from your GRIT CIBORIUM.
RAPPORT RAPPORT OSTENTATION DRIVE!
The other Ace Dicks' RAPPORT PEACOCKS begin to squawk in a more shrill manner.
It's a little overwhelming in there and all the commotion was starting to make you feel a bit disconcerted.
There's a switch over there on the wall. You give it an askance ogle.
You give equal consideration to both sides of the argument.
The thugs drop 16,500 SPONDULICKS, and the beasts drop 2 CURED FIEND MUTTONS.
You pick up the SPONDULICKS and eat the MUTTONS to restore your CARATS.
More thugs approach the SLIDING GLASS DOOR.
You simply close the door and lock it.
The thugs cannot get in!
You chuck some thug corpses into level 3 before making your entrance. Man, that was so cold blooded.
The beasts, thugs, and HIRED MUSCLE are probably thinking twice before fucking with you now.
Against the wall is an elegant pair of FRENCH DOORS.
Looks like the still is percolating nicely. You go upstairs to join your dopple-ally.
You levy his asking fee, 15,000 SPONDULICKS.
He agrees. His brawn is at your disposal.
The thugs regretably discover what it's like being on the wrong side of some good hard muscle.
Your combined VIM is sufficient for the task.
He is impervious to attacks again! Got to raise that BLOOD SUGAR some more.
Mobster Kingpin successfully AUTO-PARRIES!
The CHOCOLATE ricochets off his massive head.
It flies toward a SHIP PORTHOLE.
That idea is so silly, even you can't take it very seriously.
You just flip the switch instead.
The GRENADE breaks through the PORT-SIDE RED PORTHOLE.
The CHOCOLATE finally emerges through the STARBOARD-SIDE RED PORTHOLE.
Mobster Kingpin receives the well-traveled CHOCOLATE in his aghast yap!
Now that his BLOOD SUGAR has been compromised, you deal a fearsome blow with the business end of your WIG.
MK takes minor damage.
AD is down for the count!
RAPPORT RAPPORT OSTENTATION DRIVE!
The Ace Dicks arrive just a little too late for the rowdy, ruff'n'tumble action they craved.
The Hired Muscle seems to have everything well in hand. He appears to have made use of the FRENCH DOORS for slicing beasts in half.
He is collecting all the spoils as he operates, snatching up the prized SPONDULICKS and MUTTONS as they appear. Problem Sleuth seems irked by this conduct, as it was not part of the implied operating agreement in his view. The Muscle's diplomatic skills could obviously use some polish.
Above the Ace Dicks, the RAPPORT PEACOCKS become even more vociferous.
The capricious machine enters the portal with the DOLL HOUSE on its back.
The infinite number of geometrically down-scaled candy mechas dump the infinite number of DOLL HOUSES on the floor.
FRACTAL PROSPECTUS ACCRETION RATE: 4.1% HAZARD MARK: CONTAINED HISTOGRAM Honeybee Professor: VERY GOOD! REMEMBER, THINK SMALL! SMALL LIKE ME, A BEE! AVOID 1:1 DUPLICATIONS WHICH WILL LEAD TO UNWELCOME 100% MATTER ACCRETIONS, AND YOU'LL KEEP HIVING A HONEY OF A TIME! □ Don't show protips ETC...
The FRACTAL PROSPECTUS opens automatically to warn you that a fractaline matter/energy accretion has occurred.
You appear to be well within the limits of safety at a 4.1% accretion rate. The INFINITE SUMMATION HONEYBEE PROFESSOR seems pleased, and offers a sage Protip on responsible fractal management.
Oh hell, it's another Stiller bust.
You would have to be INCREDIBLY strong to move it out of the way.
Despite his blunt tactics, you think the Muscle could have long term value to the team.
He issues a volley of curmudgeonly epithets. His character does not appear to have any depth or lasting appeal!
Fuck yes, this is one rude hog squad. Foes quake at the rumbling of your steel horses.
You advance to the next level.
The beast chunks were sort of heavy, so you could only throw one in ahead of you. You think it was still pretty cold blooded and intimidating though.
Standing in your path is Argus of the Undead, MORTHOL DRYAX and his BONEGUARD MOUNT. He is flanked by two HIRED MUSCLES.
Against the wall is a beautiful and piously decorated STAINED GLASS WINDOW.
The cycles take out the muscles!
The defeated muscles drop 2 SAVORY BRUTESTEAKS and 31,000 SPONDULICKS.
FRACTAL PROSPECTUS ACCRETION RATE: 4.1% HAZARD MARK: CONTAINED HISTOGRAM Honeybee Professor: VERY WELLM BEE THAT WAY! ASSHOLE! [✔ ] Don't show protips
The Hired Muscle is going for the SPONDULICKS and the BRUTESTEAKS.
Morthol molests his brainstem with a DOLDRUM FLAGELLUM.
The Hired Muscle is now undead! His alignment is now indeterminate.
You levy the fee of 3000 SPONDULICKS and summon a trifecta of mystical warriors, the great masters of brass, Buttermilk Stubbs, Ramblin' Jackson, and Molasses Fatts!
They're all blind as a bat, and full of piss and vinegar.
The trio gets down to business. The horn-based onslaught establishes moderate damage to the foes.
The frightened Zombie Muscle flees upstairs.
Morthol Dryax shoots a lot of little skulls out of his skull.
The jazz trifecta is afflicted with an undead curse and banished from the physical plane!
The mount's savage hooves flick at Problem Sleuth's unlucky mug.
PS endures significant CARAT loss!
EMPATHY CHARM BREAK!
Hysterical Dame's CHARM BREAK! meter is close to maxing out. She experiences a surge in attack power.
You scribble on the back of MK's head with the CHAINSAW.
Your allies weigh in on the matter.
Morthol is one hardy son of a bitch. It's going to take a hell of an attack to take him down.
Pickle Inspector has wandered back to the control room. There is a new window there which has captured his discerning ogle.
No, not yet!!
Hurricane force winds drag debris indiscriminately into your mighty marine beast-like orifice.
Nothing can withstand the suck of your awesome gut.
MK turns the tables on you and horns in on your racket!
He nullifies BELLY OF THE WHALE and sends that business right back at you.
Ace Dick is pulled into Mobster Kingpin's generous tummy.
In an act of desperation, Ace yanks the pins on his final two CHOCOLATES.
GRIT CIBORIUM BOO- BOOM
The GRENADES detonate. All of your WAFERS have been depleted.
Ace Dick is slain.
DEATH has been waiting for you. He has poured you some TEA.
RAPP- RAPPORT OSTENTATION DRIVE!
The RAPPORT PEACOCKS are flipping out! The OSTENTATION DRIVE! is at capacity!
One of your most brutal attacks is available for a brief window of time!
DOUBLE TRUFFLE SHUFFLE TROUBLE
A tubby customer himself, Morthol is in awe of your synchronized jiggling bravado!
Morthol Dryax has been slain handily.
Ace's sugary martyrdom in MK's gut has spiked his BLOOD SUGAR to a near-critical level! It is an ideal time for dealing major damage.
Honeybee Professor: ! [✔ ] Don't show protips
The recently muted INFINITE SUMMATION HONEYBEE PROFESSOR does not appear pleased with where this is going.
You are so pissed at Death you throw your tea in disgust but you catch a whiff of it and it smells way too good to throw what is that darjeeling god it's delicious.
You throw the saucer instead.
Honeybee Professor: **** *** ***** ** ******* *** **** *** ****** ***!! [✔ ] Don't show protips
The Professor is irate with your harebrained lack of discretion. You still can't hear his warnings though.
Honeybee Professor: #@*$* [✔ ] Don't show protips BUMP
Startled, you drop the window into itself, knocking the bee out.
FRACTAL PROSPECTUS ACCRETION RATE: 99.9% HAZARD MARK: DANGER HISTOGRAM
The window appears to be stuck in itself, knotted into a strange multi-dimensional wreath.
The ACCRETION RATE is at a dangerous level, but the degree of fractaline matter replication is in check due to the self-knotting structure.
If any pressure was applied to the windows, it would likely force a critical reaction. This is to be avoided.
Exhaling in relief, you accidentally hit a button on the CONTROL PANEL.
FLUTHLU has been released from his black realm.
All of Pickle Inspector's SPARK ASH has been depleted from his METTLE SAMOVAR.
Pickle Inspector is slain.
AFFINITY MURDER FLUX!
Nervous Broad's AFFINITY CROW is flapping frantically!
Her MURDER FLUX! is fully charged!
CHAPTER 11 OF 22
Death ogles you. Delicious tea is politely offered.
Sugar is offered with aggressive courtesy! Death stirs the hot beverage with his SCYTHE.
This is incredibly disconcerting!
You throw it down hard cause that's just how Team Sleuth rolls.
Death is intrigued by the offer.
Death clicks his BALL POINT SCYTHE.
Ace Dick slams down his HAT in disgust.
Pickle Inspector rises boldly to the task.
The Weasel King appears briefly in support, and supplies PI with the mighty TECTRIX OF THE ARBITOR to even the score.
You're just curious.
It seems he is busy pollinating the afterlife.
Fluthlu scales the CATHEDRAL OF SYNDETIC ASCENSION.
Repugnant LANGUOR FLAGELLA bust through the STAINED GLASS WINDOWS.
The windows are too small. Fluthlu poses no threat.
You calmly collect the BRUTESTEAK and the 19,000 SPONDULICKS and proceed to the next level.
Your nerves are shot and you can't take it anymore.
You console yourself with your TEDDY BEAR.
You'll console everyone down with you if you have to.
SSSTAB STAB STAB STAB
MK takes serious damage.
HD takes moderate collateral damage.
The exertion has activated one of NB's more advanced NERVETECHS, LV. 8 CASE OF THE VAPORS.
MK pushes her out the window.
It's going to be a long fall.
CLEMENCY PARLIAMENT UPROAR!
Communal forces cause your CLEMENCY OWL to hoot more emphatically.
Your PARLIAMENT UPROAR! meter creeps up.
Well, ok, level 5 is sort of an odd number but I guess this can be the last level.
A horrific beast and his entourage of lesser beasts blocks the path.
It appears the Zombie Muscle has already kickstarted the melee.
Further into the room is a DEATH STAR WINDOW.
You're just not listening, are you.
Muscle gets the jump on Dick. Violation ensues!
One of the Aces is now undead. He joins the Muscle in its rapacious picnicking.
This is getting way out of hand. There is far too much discord in the political atmosphere.
It is time levy Mr. Clay's asking fee and invoke the oratory skills of The Great Compromiser himself.
Henry Clay: GNAR PS: HENRY CLAY WOW I AM A HUGE FAN! PS: COULD YOU RATIFY SOME TRATIES FOR ME? Henry Clay: GNAR GNAR PS: HENRY? Henry Clay: GNAR GNAR Henry Clay: THHHHTHH PS: HENRY! Henry Clay: ! PS: OK NOT COOL JUST GET OUT. BOOT NOT BY KATE BEATON.
The narrative continues through a delightfully charming KATE BEATON-style comic.
The beasts and the Zombie Muscle have all been slain by the rampaging Kentucky senator.
Fluthlu explodes through the DEATH STAR WINDOW.
An embarrassment of moist, frisky flagella writhe about the room.
You become a torso flailing machine and start whipping monster chum like it's going out of style.
The red meat merely energizes Fluthlu, making his moist flagella all the friskier!
The tickling tendrils probe curiously for every nook and cranny they can find. It is beyond embarrassing.
Shamed, Ace Dick leaves the battlefield and goes back downstairs.
You are feeling flashbacks of fat kid's shame that even your heartiest truffle shuffle wouldn't shake off.
You slide past the gruesome foe, utilizing a maneuver made famous by an early 90s rap star.
Aw hell no.
The wall behind you is infested with ethnic diversity and good cheer.
Fluthlu treats you to a fearsome ogle of necrotizing fury.
It is deflected off your SHARD OF GLASS and hits the mural behind you.
The trecherous mob emerges from the artwork with a spring in their undead shuffle.
You're normally an advocate of diversity and strong sense of community but this is one cultural rainbow you wish would just go fuck off.
The netherworldly town committee teaches you the hard way that racial harmony is everyone's business.
The gross witch dishes sick civic service with her HAGPALM.
OH THE HUMANITY.
Your CHARM BREAK! meter is maxed.
You prepare for your ultimate attack, KISS OF DEATH.
But you can't pull the trigger yet! Gotta get his BLOOD SUGAR up first.
It's the most hideous thing you've ever seen. A great edifice of stone made manifest the unholy triumvirate itself: Stiller, Wilson, Snoop...
THE DREADED BOWEN STILSON DOGG.
There's no way in hell anyone's going to move that thing.
FRAKA FRAKA FRAKA FRAKA FRAKA FRAKA
Zombie Ace Dick successfully AUTO-PARRIES! about a thousand rounds through his soft rotting frame.
Not one for violence, you opt for the diplomatic route and motion for a laying down of arms.
HURK HURK HURK
Fluthlu has pried himself from the wall and carries the DEATH STAR WINDOW around on his back sort of like a hermit crab.
The smaller fractal mech army rises to the occasion.
They fly through MK's office window.
Mobster Kingpin goes into DIABETIC SHOCK.
(CONTINUITY GAFFE: what's that dollhouse doing there again? Way to go, champ!)
Mobster Kingpin has been slain.
You do declare you must do something about this case of the vapors.
Death is there to greet you, although he does seem preoccupied at the moment.
6 4 3 8 Q M
Pickle Inspector and Death are embroiled in an epic scrum. They duel in a match of WIZARD'S SUDOKU.
Death charges with his JOUSTING SCYTHE.
This is incredibly silly!
Ace Dick is pinned in a poor strategic position.
Q*Bert razzes you with his FLAGELLUM OF IMPERTINENCE.
Since Death is distracted, you surreptitiously tiptoe out of the afterlife.
His portly body provides a generous frisking canvas. You could be here a while.
A plump hand comes to life and squeezes your neck.
FINAL BOSS BLOOD SUGAR
MK's health is restored and his BLOOD SUGAR has been reduced to zero.
You invoke the ruddy, churlish spirit of your great patron spirit, Wilford Brimley. His crippling diabetic dysfunction is barely concealed beneath his fat moustachioed mug.
It looks like someone just shit in his dinner and he's none too pleased.
The BRIMLEYGEIST merges with your aura and you give the bum's rush to the feisty Jane -- put a bruise on that tomato, see?
Hysterical Dame is out cold.
Mobster Kingpin closes the door to his safe.
CLEMENCY HOOT HOOT PARLIAMENT UPROAR!
Your CLEMENCY OWL is hooting up a storm.
Your PARLIAMENT UPROAR! is cranked, briefly unlocking one of your most lethal attacks, TRUSTY KNIVES.
Fluthlu's flagella look like they just got a little moister.
Things are seriously a-rumblin' in the still room.
If you didn't have your TRUSTY KNIVES, you think you'd slit your wrists.
After one of your more inspired SLEUTH ROLLS, you drop your cold blooded line which you spent the last few minutes thinking up.
Hate to cut and run...
Fluthlu has been slain.
CHAPTER 12 OF 22
PROBLEM SLEUTH GAINED A LEVEL!
PROBLEM SLEUTH EXCELLED TO NEW RATING: CANNY GUMSHOE
PROBLEM SLEUTH ACCRUED BATTLE TECHNIQUE: LV. 25 SLEUTH DIPLOMACY
PROBLEM SLEUTH ACCRUED BATTLE TECHNIQUE: LV. 9 UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER
PROBLEM SLEUTH GAINED A LEVEL!
PROBLEM SLEUTH EXCELLED TO NEW RATING: SUITOR TO THE SODAJERK'S CONFIDANTE
PROBLEM SLEUTH ACCRUED COMBAT OPERANDI: ARMISTYX
PROBLEM SLEUTH PERFECTED HIS GAMBIT SCHEMA: CANDY CORN VAMPIRE!
A savvy mug like you is sure to stash his hard earned cabbage in gin mills and rumrunning. You're never without supply.
You imbibe a great volume of SUGAR FREE CANDY LIQUOR.
Your IMAGINATION soars.
You are halted in your tracks by the sight of the repellent BOWEN STILSON DOGG. It looks like this is the end of the road.
EXPLODE LEVEL 4 LEVEL 3 LEVEL 2 LEVEL 1 BOOM
The blast travels up the DUMBWAITER SHAFT.
The BOWEN STILSON DOGG has been destroyed.
There is no hope. Sorry, you have to know when to let go.
The FIVE ALARM HOT SAUCE is ready. The juice sure looks like it packs a wallop.
You are a little too late. Mobster Kingpin is safely tucked away in his fort. He is quite obviously impervious to all physical attacks in there. You'll have to find another way to get at him.
Someone has beaten the tar out of this fair dame. You wonder what sort of monster would lay his mitts on such a classy lookin' skirt. Your blood boils.
The path is blocked! You'll need an awful strong fella to bust the obstacle.
You ladle the potent condiment from its basin with your TRUSTY HAT.
It has a funny taste. You can't put your finger on it, but if you had to describe it you would say it has the flavor of INTENSE PAIN.
An incredible transmutation takes place.
Ace Dick becomes FIESTA ACE DICK. Your VIM reaches its full potential.
You cannot descend into the sky because the universe is not upside-down!!!
On his way back up, Fiesta Ace Dick inverts the STAINED GLASS WINDOW to test his awesome strength.
You put your normal hat back on because you think this silly ethnic shit is probably going to get really old really fast.
You lose the poncho too.
You send your bratwurst-fingered fist bust-ward, obliterating it.
It was full of candy, sort of like a piñata. Your Sleuth comrades instinctively dive for the treats.
The ethnic connotation rears its ugly head and makes you a little hot under the collar.
MK continues to desc(asc)end in an upside-down manner.
You're enraged to find a Wilson bust blocking your path this time.
There is a CAPTAIN'S SEXTANT on the floor over there. It appears to be missing its TELESCOPE.
It's full of more candy. Mostly Fun-Sized Snickers and Three Musketeers bars. Also a couple of coveted SALTED MELONS.
These are the stairs to the deck. Fiesta Ace pushes on the trap door.
There is some resistance from above. Something is blocking it. Probably nothing your ripped pair of sauce-roided guns can't handle.
Your brawn sends Captain Snoop sky-ward.
It's Mobster Kingpin's ship, the CHICAGO OVERCOAT, black thorn of the imaginary skies.
You suddenly remember the universe is upside-down!
The Ace Dicks fall into the sky.
Problem Sleuth grabs hold of the STEERING WHEEL.
Oh great, here comes MK descending his ass (asc) off like a motherfucker. You've got to think of a way to right this ship, fast!
With an adept motion, you swoop right(wrong?)-side-up to face the WHEEL.
A strange light emanates from the WHEEL.
The NAVIGATION VIEWFINDER activates.
It does not have the intended effect, but the consequence is roughly the same. Instead of righting the ship, you "capsize" the whole universe.
Zombie and Fiesta Ace fall back to the deck.
(Admiral Sleuth decides to call this the "Ace Deck" because he thinks it sounds clever. He also thinks he should be referred to as "Admiral Sleuth", if only for a little while.)
Captain Snoop falls back down and crushes one of the PROPULSION FANS.
MK is now technically ascending from the carried-over momentum of his previous descent. Demonhood is imminent.
OGLE ♡ ♡ ♡
You would nervously land already, but Future Pickle Inspector appears and intercepts you.
You wonder, why, who's this tall brawny fella?
MK's indecent ascension is nearly complete.
CHAPTER 13 OF 22
DMK BLOOD SUGAR
It's MK's hideous ultimate form, DEMONHEAD MOBSTER KINGPIN.
The fan islands disperse.
You flip your reversible HAT inside-out to produce the ADMIRAL'S HAT. Your NAUTICAL PROWESS multiplies by a factor of 10.
You make sure to re-stow the precious CANDY CORN inside it.
You briefly pose as a team because shit seriously just got real again. This iron-faced thug has kept you under his thumb long enough. It's time to take him out.
You have a feeling you'll need help from as many allies as you can get for this epic struggle.
You decide to reunite the fair dame with her allies, but suddenly reconsider at the sight of the foul demon.
Sheesh! That is no place at all for a delicate flower like her.
Instead you drop her off at the brothel in the sky. She'll be much safer with the whores on whore island.
You offer words of reassurance to undisconcert her before leaving to take on the monster.
Part of your awareness detatches itself from the imaginary universe and returns to reality.
You are now free to move about in reality while your demonic self remains in the realm of imagination.
You pry the port and starboard-side SHIP PORTHOLES from the walls. It seems their batteries are now fully-charged and they may operate free from their outlets.
You're working on it!
Death chases you though the partially-complete LABYRINTHINE SUDOCUBE DIAMETRIC. He urges you to pull over with his BULLHORN SCYTHE.
This is incredibly serious business.
You head-bump a SUDOCUBE STEM BLOCK.
-TATISTICS 001 003 001 000 003 000 002 NEXT LEVEL 03 HEIGHT 3
Q*Berts: ♡ BOP
The Q*Berts are enamored of your rowdy, no-nonsense brand of ruffianism. Your superiority has been clearly established!
Q*HEARST appears to be especially smitten!
You sense your allies are in need.
The bullets are deflected. There's no way you'll be able to inflict damage through that metal mask, let alone through his natural defenses at low BLOOD SUGAR levels.
For that matter, it looks like you won't even be able to feed him candy!
The ricocheted bullets are AUTO-PARRIED! swiftly through Zombie Ace's necrotic tissue.
ZAD matured a new PARRYCRAFT: OVERRIPE PRODUCE!
Your RING OF KEYS is just way too small for that oversized lock.
You're gonna need to find a bigger set of keys!
You've done it.
The beauty of your remarkable accomplishment has caused Death to shed a tear of black liquid sorrow.
Pickle Inspector has finally perfected the LABRYNTHINE SUDOCUBE COMPREHSENSILE!!!
Death has been bested. You are free to leave.
Ace Dick has beaten Q*HEARST to death with a PAWN.
He can go too.
You breathe a sigh of relief.
You were afraid you might have missed something out of the ordinary while you were gone.
Into the bubbling portal they go. All but one.
DMK seizes them telekinetically.
Before you throw the last one in, you pick up the CINDER BLOCKS from the base of your fort and throw them through the final PORTHOLE. You were tired of stubbing your toe on them anyway.
Finally, you toss the last PORTHOLE in the jacuzzi.
There is suddenly a lot of traffic being conducted through those lights.
The three enlarged CINDER BLOCKS cycle through the enlarged PORTHOLES, providing your demonic form with even more defense!
MK ducks back into the safety of his fort.
You fit your mates with appropriately nautical headwear.
Corsair Dick and Skipper Inspector seem quite pleased with the look!
(But seriously, we can keep referring to them all with the standard shorthand, PS, AD and PI, because really, this is going to be confusing if we start getting too literal!)
Two can play at the defense game.
Admiral Sleuth dons the PEPPERMINT MYTHRIL COAT.
Corsair Dick dons the JOLLY RANCHER FULL PLATE.
Skipper Inspector dons the STUDDED FRUIT LEATHER.
Zombie and Fiesta Ace Dick don't get to have cool armor though because they're a couple of weirdos.
Didn't we just do this?
Nonetheless, FPI cajoles a group photo out of the party dressed to the nines in swanky new duds.
While you're all goofing around, DMK turns his defense into offense! PS absorbs the cinder block's brunt entirely!
Your armor's TREACLE AEGIS gauge takes a hit, but you're otherwise undamaged. Looks like the candy coat is doing the trick!
Communal forces cause you to stop being knocked out cold.
The brainless war machine blasts off to adventure.
Or at least its detachable hull segment does, leaving the legs behind.
No you fool!
Don't you realize if you initiate that attack, it will be the last thing you do???
Fiesta smacks some sense into you.
You wonder what that switch does. You give it a curious flip.
It doesn't appear to have done anything.
The power in the room is cut off. The jacuzzi stops bubbling.
The large portal closes.
It's time to quit the harebrained antics and rally your troops around an actual battle plan.
You ask all of them to hand over their weapons.
You tell FAD to hang on to his MACHINE GUN since you really just need the one. You ask the idiot zombie to pony up his, though.
You order PI to take the KEY, the RING OF KEYS, and the HAIRPIN down to the jacuzzi and jump in with them.
In the meantime, you and the Aces will keep DMK at bay.
Skipper Inspector politely accepts the mission.
Along the way, you drop the GUN, the TOMMY GUN, and the MACHINE GUN because you suddenly remember your VIM is not nearly high enough to carry them.
This appears to be a snag in the plan.
HD is standing there looking puzzled. She wonders what's with the fruity getup.
Thinking on the fly, you come up with an imaginitive alternative: to get this strapping dame to do a man's work for him.
It's no wonder Admiral Sleuth entrusted you with this critical operation. His bold leadership causes your heart to palpitate with admiration.
Hysterical Dame brings the weapons to the jacuzzi.
You come out of the manhole.
This appears to be another snag in the plan.
Thank goodness that's taken care of.
You space out for a moment.
Hey, what the heck does this switch do? You completely forget.
Mysterious divine forces along with a profound sense of addled curiosity cause you to flip it.
The big portal is active again, rendering the manhole useless.
HD is now trapped on the street.
The mysterious divine forces continue to inform your addled impulses. There's something you feel a strong urge to go get.
Considering there's not much traffic, the lights above seem awfully busy.
The magnetism you feel towards your trusty fan is as powerful as it is inexplicable.
More divine forces compel you to bring the fan somewhere else.
You're not sure why you're doing this, but it feels important.
You offer a few fond parting words to your breezing device and drop it in the bubbling vat.
MK is sort of weirding you out from in there.
On the way back up, you spot a lovely SOMBRERO. Some careless fellow has left it here on the floor. You imagine the chap must be heartbroken about it. What a shame.
You put it in your inventory.
In this room you spy a CAPTAIN'S SEXTANT, sans TELESCOPE. You ogle the curious navigation apparatus for a moment.
It is drifting far out of reach.
I'm sorry. You have to know when it is time to say goodbye.
Waiting for a gap in the cinder block cycles, you start with the HANDGUN, lobbing it into the PORT SIDE RED LIGHT.
The KEY emerges from the STARBOARD SIDE GREEN PORTHOLE, unlocking one of the locks.
You lob the TOMMY GUN into the STARBOARD SIDE YELLOW LIGHT.
It emerges from the PORT SIDE RED PORTHOLE.
Finally, you lob the MACHINE GUN through the PORT SIDE GREEN LIGHT.
The HAIRPIN emerges from the STARBOARD SIDE YELLOW PORTHOLE, unlocking the final lock.
You pick up the SNIPER RIFLE. It is a powerful weapon capable of transforming anyone with a keen ogle into a deathbringer from afar.
Unfortunately, it is practically useless without its TELESCOPE.
Below, the candy mecha's legs scramble around like a chicken whose head decapitated itself and flew into the sky to fight a demonic mob boss.
SHUFFLE SHUFFLE SHUFFLE
You make your swiss cheese-brained self useful and turn your ordinary lead-footed zombie shuffle into a zombie truffle shuffle.
Or is it that you turn your ordinary truffle shuffle into a zombie truffle shuffle?
Either way, this attack proves to be absolutely pointless.
PEW PEW PEW PEW WUP WUP
The stubborn monster shuts his various traps! You'll have to catch him off guard if you want to get that BLOOD SUGAR up.
Alright, well you missed with the candy thus making him still impervious to attacks, but I guess you didn't notice that.
You strike your poses, readying yourselves for the ultimate coup-de-blubber trifecta.
SUCKLE FLAGON COMB RAVE
It looks like you can't execute your ultimate attack yet anyway.
You will need to collect enough PANG NECTAR to process into the amount of JOCOSE HONEY needed to fill your SUCKLE FLAGON before you can max out your COMB RAVE meter.
God it's almost like you've never played this game before.
Fiesta Ace slams down his HAT in frustration.
Pickle Inspector politely suggests a REPLACEMENT HAT.
Targeting Corsair Dick, DMK's spiky barbs molest every pocket of his portly carriage in a humiliating manner.
You wish all your friends weren't around to see this.
Your TREACLE AEGIS takes a hit.
A vulgar GLUMSPINE FLAGELLUM unfurls itself rudely and has a gander at PI. The leer of the prickly vegetable disquiets you.
Zombie Ace salivates at the savory-looking tendril. You wonder what sorts of nectars it harbors.
In a flailing panic, the mecha's legs blast off.
It accidentally drops the fan down to whore island. All the whores scatter for cover.
You'd probably better get out of the way too!
Ok, now what the hell do you do?
While you mull it over, a CHEESE TRUCK passes by.
You see something peculiar inside its rear cabin, illuminated by a strange light. You wonder where the truck is going.
You whistle down a cabby and flip him a spondulick. You tell him there's more where that came from if he keeps the heat on that cheese truck.
The truck passes through the city's "SQUARE SHOULDER TOLLS" where a stiff DAIRY TAX is levied on local distributors.
You cannot pass through the booth because your vehicle is improperly shaped.
You catch a glimpse into the illuminated rear cabin opening. There appears to be a mustachioed man sitting there patiently. You wonder what the heck is going on here!
DOWNTOWN DISTRICTS BOULANGERE DISTRICT FROMAGERE DISTRICT BEANPOLE ALLEY SQUARE SHOULDER TOLLS YOU ARE HERE BOUCHERE DISTRICT JACK SQUAT UNDERPASS GUTTERPIPE PROJECTS
The toll booth operator hands you a MAP OF THE DOWNTOWN DISTRICTS.
A part of the map has been circled.
You avoid the enormous fan in the nick of time.
CHAPTER 14 OF 22
You enter the SLEAZY BROTHEL.
The decor seems unusual. Lavish and seductive, yet festooned with gorgeous cultural wall paintings.
Is this a bordello matron's lair, or that of a sort of artisan? This is kind of confusing.
You wonder where the Madame is.
The FAN PLUG crashes through the ceiling.
Wow, what a fucking waste of...
Actually, this is a lot of fun.
You dine on the sumptuous creeper with gluttonous abandon, releasing a steady flow of thick PANG NECTAR.
FPI's suggestion for a nice wine to complement the meal goes boorishly disregarded.
DMK smarts from the voracious nibbling, leaving his mouths vulnerable to a sugar salvo.
The candy mecha seizes the opportunity.
The GLUMSPINE FLAGELLUM retreats into its thorny bramble. DMK's BLOOD SUGAR elevates.
The PANG NECTAR is collected by energetic worker bees.
They busily set to work building an IMPETUS COMB to transmute the bitter nectar into sweet JOCOSE HONEY. Recently collected nectar is stored between the walls of the newly erected SIERPINSKI CELLS.
They labor under the instruction of their CHIEF ARCHITECT.
You're not sure if there's an enormous outlet around here, and anyway, you can't even lift the enormous plug.
It's too heavy for a delicate flower like you, toots!
You don the ASPECT CORSET. You feel so womanly now, you can hardly breath.
On an unrelated note, the thing sure is tight.
Also, your feet suddenly feel wet for reasons completely unfathomable to you. It appears to harbor inscrutable mystical properties.
You equip the STRIPPER.
In this room, three curtained doors of varying shapes await.
This is where the "performers" enter, whatever the heck that means!
SCALE VALVE ASPECT VALVE
The CHEESE TRUCK has eluded you, but you follow the map to the GUTTERPIPE PROJECTS which was just a few blocks away.
Honeybee Professor: IT'S ABOUT TIME, FRIEND! ONCE WE HAVE COMPLETED BUILDING YOUR IMPETUS COMB, AN ALL OF ITS JOCOSE HONEY HAS RIPENED AND IS SWEET AS CAN BEE, THAT IS WHEN THE FUN BEEGINS!!! □ Don't show protips
TECTON HIVE 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 Honeybee Professor: WE THEN BRING IT TO THE TECTON HIVE TO DISPENSE THE HONEY! WE WILL PLACE THE COMB IN THE SLOT AVAILABLE, DEPENDING ON ITS SIZE. THE NEXT COMB WE BUILD AFTER THAT WILL BE A NOTCH BIGGER! □ Don't show protips Honeybee Professor: EACH TIME WE PUT A COMB IN THE HIVE, THE HONEY WILL FILL YOUR SUCKLE RECEPTACLE AND YOU WILL GET TO USE A COMB RAVE, A VERY POWERFUL ATTACK. THE BIGGER THE COMB, THE RICHER THE HONEY, AND THE MORE DEVASTATING THE RAVE!!! AS LONG AS YOU KEEP PROVIDING THE NECTAR, WE'LL KEEP BUILDING BIGGER AND BIGGER COMBS UNTIL THE 8THE COMB IS COMPLETE. THAT WILL BEE ONE HONEY OF A RAVE! I'M A BEE! □ Don't show protips
8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 LAZY SUSAN OF ENDOWMENT Honeybee Professor: WHEN TAPPING THE TECTON HIVE, ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS ROTATE THE LAZY SUSAN OF ENDOWMENT TO CHOOSE WHICH SUCKLE RECEPTACLE THE HONEY WILL DROP INTO! THE CORRESPONDING CHARACTER IS THEN ABLE TO PERFORM HIS OR HER COMB RAVE! EACH CHARACTER HAS A UNIQUE RAVE, AND A DIFFERENT ONE FOR EACH POWER LEVL. SO CHOOSE WISELY! □ Don't show protips
SCALE VALVE ASPECY VALVE
Curiosity gets the best of you as you decide you must sleuth this contraption.
You poke your fair features into the pipe. It is dark and damp. There is the distant sound of a whirring mechanical device.
You slip and fall in.
That doesn't sound like a good idea to you. Since you are improperly shaped, it's probably impossible. Or at least highly inappropriate.
NB: ? ?
You consider stripping before you enter, but there are no murals around to apply the STRIPPER to!
You decide to forget it and just enter the TALL PRIVATE BOOTH.
There is a TALL WINDOW in the booth. On the other side is your spectator, a MANNERLY HIGHBROW. He seems to have been waiting here patiently for a while.
There does not appear to be any glass in the window. On the other side, a coin-operated meter ticks down. The Highbrow has likely supplied it with a spondulick or two for his viewing pleasure.
There is a lovely mural on the wall beside you.
The gutterpipe projects you through the MOTION PICTURE PROJECTOR, which is currently showing a BURLESQUE FLAPPER ACT in an empty theater.
However, the lens is focused such that the image projects very small on the screen. It needs to be adjusted if the patrons want to get an eye-full of all those smooth alabaster gams.
Honeybee Professor: MUTE [✔ ] Don't show protips The page at http://www.mspaintadventures.... /!\ [✔ ] Do not ask me again about muting protips [OK]
It looks like DMK's BLOOD SUGAR is gradually decreasing through some sort of diabolical regenerative ability.
Son of a bitch!
You clearly have no time to lose! You order Team Sleuth to stop mincing around with bees and wine and shit and get busy aggressing his thorny ass!
Except you realize you don't actually have any weapons. You used them all to unlock his armor. And all PI has is that stupid useless SEXTANT.
This is sort of embarrassing.
DMK is not wasting anymore time either. He's powering up for a major assault.
Fiesta Ace loses a couple of beans from his FRIJOLE AEGIS. He's got about a million more, making him practically indestructible. Nevertheless, he prefers to distance himself from the needlessly ethnic defensive modality.
Zombie Ace simply AUTO-PARRIES the attack, maturing a new PARRYCRAFT: BRUISED FRUIT - HALF PRICE!
The candy mecha has been destroyed.
Before you have a chance to do anything, DMK uncorks another doozy of an attack. Shameless flagella wiggle about, molesting everything in sight.
Your TREACLE AEGISSES have already been depleted to a near-critical level.
Who'd have thought the final boss would be such a pain in the ass!
The man has levied good money to watch you strip, and you're not one to disappoint.
It's getting a little steamy in here. The Highbrow's MONOGLE fogs up.
The Highbrow is quite pleased.
This seems like the only feasible exit, all dimensional parameters considered.
You prepare to douse the entire wall with the STRIPPER.
You incinerate the painting with the FLAME THROWER.
The coin operated timer runs out. The peep show is over, the Mannerly Highbrow having received his money's worth.
The TALL WINDOW switches to a different view.
You enter the studio of MADAME MUREL, the brothel's matron/artisan.
Above is an outlet, which might be useful for plugging something into, as long as the plug is the right size, and the outlet is supplied with power.
The Madame doesn't seem to have noticed you, so you climb the ladder.
You don the SCALE BODICE. You've never felt so shapely.
The whores complement you on your glamorous new look.
DMK is powering up for yet another devastating attack, ostensibly his finishing move.
Thinking fast, you commune with the four kingdoms from afar.
In the meantime, you order Skipper Inspector to put some of that NAUTICAL PROWESS to work with some evasive maneuvers.
The kingdoms assemble four of their mightiest heroes to come to your aid, the WEASEL WARRIOR, the ELF MAGE, the HOG CLERIC, and the CLOWN BARD.
Together, they prepare the harrowing climb up their side of the CATHEDRAL OF SYNDETIC ASCENSION.
The Skipper puts a mean spin on the ship's WHEEL.
The others grab on to the ship's NETTING for stability.
DMK's attack is interrupted. He's going to be sick!
DMK pukes a deluge of PIE FILLING. The deck is a gooey mess. It's disgusting.
DMK goes ahead and deals an attack anyway.
The volatile PIE FILLING has been ignited.
Your TREACLE AEGISSES have been reduced to zero. Your CANDY ARMOR disintegrates.
You exit the rear cabin of the BREAD TRUCK.
The distortion forces of the oddly shaped portal squeeze your dimensions to be even taller and narrower.
This simply won't do. You're already self-conscious about your gangly frame.
You slacken the strings on the ASPECT CORSET, which was way too tight anyway.
Your aspect ratio shortens and widens back to normalcy.
You reenter the TALL WINDOW. Your aspect has been altered again, this time in reverse.
It seems the whores have fled in fright.
Madame Murel flicks you through the SCALE BODICE.
You are flushed out of the SCALE VALVE with new dimensions.
You counter the flammable PIE FILLING with your own blend of soothing, flame-retardant CAKE FROSTING.
The flames have been extinguished.
You're happy you're not on fire and all, but you wonder why the hell Future Pickle Inspector is suddenly blue.
Future Pickle Inspector is wondering the same thing.
It seems at some point in the future, FPI (the red one) used COMBAT OPERANDI -> TEMPORAL REPLICSIMILE, again dividing him in two.
One of them went into the past to become Past-Future Pickle Inspector, PFPI (the blue one). That past moment is apparently now.
The other one went even further into the future to become Future-Future Pickle Inspector (a color yet to present itself).
FPI thanks PFPI for clarifying and asks him politely to go sit over there for the remainder of the battle to avoid confusion.
Death slides out a chair, inviting you to a friendly game of TROUBLE.
You're not sure but you think those might be sugar cubes in the POPOMATIC BUBBLE.
DMK depresses your POPOMATIC HATS, stripping you of your seafaring status before you can wield anymore of that devastating NAUTICAL PROWESS.
Your NAUTICAL PROWESS plummets by a factor of ten.
You're through letting the ornery mob boss have his way with you.
It's time to bring out the heavy fire power.
The flow amplifies.
The SCALE BODICE loosens its fit.
You tighten the aperture.
The BURLESQUE MOTION PICTURE magnifies.
Not content messing around with this gizmo just yet, you make one more adjustment.
You set the lever to ASPECT VALVE.
Though you're a little stouter, you're still not strong enough to lift it.
You become more horizontally generous. You're not totally sure how you feel about being so busty all of a sudden.
You lift the plug easily.
The gloves are off. It's finally time to call on His Majesty's services.
You expend the required ELF TEARS and WEASEL SNOT.
The feisty monarch flips the fuck out in DMK's face. DMK takes heavy damage.
The weasel king flips the fuck out back into his realm.
But it looks like DMK has gradual health-regenerative capabilities too.
You throw down your HAT in disgust.
You are going to need to dump as many powerful attacks into him as you can very quickly, as well as keep finding ways to raise his BLOOD SUGAR!!!
Sorry, the power of the CORSETS only applies to sexy female figures! You'll have to get the plug to the pipe another way. Nice try though.
Given your proportions, it now seems appropriate to go through the short, wide door.
A CHURLISH TOFF is waiting patiently for his performance. It seems he is quite particular regarding the type of performer he has come to expect in his peeping habits.
The Toff is irked by the class of talent his spondulicks have paid for. He's a little perplexed by the giant plug too, and can't imagine what kind of sordid spectacle the accesory will facilitate.
He punches the COIN RETURN button beneath the slot.
The WIDE WINDOW switches to another view.
You exit the rear cabin of the HAM TRUCK, squashing your proportions even more. The look strikes you as unbecoming.
Furthermore, the plug's proportions have been squashed too. Even if you did manage to shrink it down somehow, there would be no way it could fit into a normal outlet!
Weird puzzle shit can be really frustrating sometimes.
You head back to the familiar comfort of the TALL WINDOW.
You become elongated by a notch. You are no longer quite as strong. Your noodly arms begin to buckle beneath the big plug, which has also predictably elongated.
You give the crank a good hard whirl, elongating the valve.
The ASPECT CORSET tightens, seemingly by itself! This is quite alarming!
In this state you are not even close to being strong enough to support the plug. It pushes you through your CORSET.
You are flushed out the ASPECT VALVE.
Surveying what you have in your inventory to put to use, you remember one of the Aces has the SMALL WINDOW and you have the SKYLIGHT with the BATTERY PACK.
The windows become knotted in each other to the extent your strength will allow.
You will need to find a way to apply a lot more pressure to achieve the (un)desirable reaction!
You wrap a hard candy shell around the windows to create the JAWBREAKER SKYLIGHT BOMB.
Only the most powerful jaws will penetrate the shell.
Fiesta Ace stomps tender flagella while you hurl the potent orb.
Stunned, DMK chomps down hard.
DMK BLOOD SUGAR
DMK's BLOOD SUGAR skyrockets while taking insane damage all in one shot!
You are splashed by a ridiculous quantity of PANG NECTAR. Worker bees soon arrive to carry it away.
Both of you are easily small/narrow enough to fit into the small aperture.
You are projected into the room at normal scale.
These are the customer entrances for the private booths. All of these doors are locked, occupied by various distinguished gentlemen.
There are switches on the ceiling. Only someone with an extraordinary TALLNESS attribute can operate them.
There is something odd about this switch. It is the only one of the three switched to REAR instead of FRONT.
Meanwhile in the middle booth, a DAPPER SWAIN enjoys the view from his window. The road rushes away from him, producing the very convincing illusion that he is riding in the back of some sort of vehicle. He is having the time of his life!
You flip it to FRONT.
DRIVER'S HATCH CHEESE CHEESE CHEESE
The Swain's view is switched to a small, dark interior filled with crates of what appears to be CHEESE.
At the end of the cabin is a small door marked DRIVER'S HATCH.
The Swain finds this development most unwelcome!
Growing impatient, the Swain levies a few copper spondulicks to pay for a better show.
The view in the window switches. He sits back and waits for his entertainment to begin.
Your work in there is clearly done, so you leave.
You put on your ASPECT CORSET, and nudge your proportions back down to normal.
The Madame is enraged to see you have returned.
She thinks as long as you're so intent on being here, she might as well put you to work.
She equips you with the SCALE BODICE, shoves you through the lobby door, and locks it behind you.
It's high time you get some mileage out of those gams and earn your keep around here, dollface!
Spooky GAMBIT AETHERS envelope you. You feel a powerful transformation taking place.
SCHEMA PUMPKIN PS: ?
It seems you have not carved a SCHEMA PUMPKIN, and thus cannot employ your GAMBIT SCHEMAS.
In fact, you don't think you have a SCHEMA PUMPKIN. You are quite sure there are no SCHEMA PUMPKINS lying around, and probably never will be.
CHAPTER 15 OF 22
It looks like the bees have collected enough PANG NECTAR to complete an IMPETUS COMB rich with dripping JOCOSE HONEY!!!
In fact, they collected so much nectar from the previous attack, they've managed to complete the next two combs as well!
4 5 6 7
The combs are fitted in the appropriate slots and the honey begins to flow.
4 5 6 7
SUCKLE FLAGON COMB RAVE
You spin the LAZY SUSAN OF ENDOWMENT to fill the SUCKLE FLAGON.
AD's COMB RAVE meter maxes out.
4 5 6 7
SUCKLE CRUET COMB RAVE
You fill the SUCKLE CRUET.
FAD's COMB RAVE meter maxes out.
4 5 6 7
SUCKLE DECANTER COMB RAVE
You fill the SUCKLE DECANTER.
ZAD's COMB RAVE meter maxes out.
The three of you combined may now execute a rare and devastating TRIPLE COMB RAVE!
You will have to think long and hard about which attack you would like to use. The decision will occupy a big Chunk of the battle while you chew the fat.
Take your time.
You pick up the PAINT ROLLER and the PAINT BUCKET.
On the other side of the SQUARE WINDOW, the Dapper Swain waits for his show.
On the wall is an exquisite mural, the perfect backdrop for various burlesque indecencies.
You cover up a bit, being the saucy little tease you are.
The Swain is piqued by the steamy display.
His busy fingers start a small MOUSTACHE FIRE.
Meanwhile, the Mannerly Highbrow is somewhat disconcerted by the view through his expired window.
It is a narrow cabin stocked with BREAD.
You climb into the driver's seat of the BREAD TRUCK.
The Highbrow bobs his head politely and asks, where to, miss?
It looks delicious, but it is completely non-functional. Despite your most concentrated ogle, you can't see through it at all.
What a useless piece of shit!
You toss it overboard.
It bounces off a random truck driving by and into a TRAFFIC LIGHT.
The huge candy-scope takes DMK by surprise, directly in the mouth.
His BLOOD SUGAR reaches a critical limit. It is time to strike while the iron is diabetic!
Fiesta Ace begins by sending ominous lard-wobbling tremors throughout the cosmos.
You issue a hard boiled line before dealing the attack: "Suckle on this receptacle!"
TRIPLE TRUFFLE SHUFFLE
The blubbery onslaught has easily wiped out the remainder of DMK's health meter.
The critically wounded boss descends.
DMK's NETHER-REGIONAL VULNERABULB blooms, briefly exposing his WEAK SPOT.
A thousand voices from afar seem to ring in your mind. They chime in unison the name of your ultimate attack.
Yes. YES! Now seems like the perfect time for...
Nope, you're still jumping the gun.
In spite of your penchant for self-destruction, you still just don't have the offensive gravitas for that attack. You will need a LEVEL 8 IMPETUS COMB filled before you can rain that awful shitstorm down on everyone.
Didn't I mention? I'm almost positive I did.
You just don't have the right angle on the VULNERABULB from the deck!
Besides, the meager bullets from the SNIPER RIFLE probably wouldn't do much damage to such a hardy foe. The key to making the weapon useful must be the TELESCOPE. You just don't see any alternative!
This idea is just utterly ridiculous on its face.
Nevertheless, while everyone else is distracted with doing things that actually make sense, Ace Dick seizes the opportunity.
All he can really manage to do is climb on top of the stunned DMK's HAT and look foolish.
With your awesome Latin VIM, you hoist the enormous CRATE easily.
You take aim at the VULNERABULB, but again, you have a tricky angle on it. You throw it anyway.
The CRATE sails past the WEAK SPOT, missing completely.
With a steady hand gained from MINUTES of experience as the ship's courageous skipper, you flip the universe.
The rest of the Sleuth crew grabs hold of the NETTING.
Ace Dick takes up secure purchase of DMK's HAT.
The CRATE comes back down and clocks the WEAK SPOT for massive damage.
SALUBRITY FRANKINCENSE SPUNK MYRRH PEP GOLD
The blow has depleted DMK's supply of SALUBRITY FRANKINCENSE.
His supplies of SPUNK MYRRH and PEP GOLD each remain.
The VULNERABULB begins to close back up.
The bulb closes and DMK re-ascends/descends, depending on whether you've flipped the universe right-side-up yet, which I guess you have.
DMK rotates his head to exhibit a fresh face, complete with not one, but TWO fully replenished health meters.
You consider his rejuvenation to be highly predictable since, let's face it, there are just so many cool attacks you haven't gotten around to using yet.
You roll 1000 LOADED SUGAR CUBE DICE to improve your fortune. They all come up in your favor. The fix is in, see?
Jetstreams of DEXTROSE enter your mouth, treating your critical HYPOGLYCEMIA.
DMK is now completely cured of his DIABETES!!! You will have to find another way of lowering his defenses.
You'll have to worry about your own defenses too, for that matter. He is gearing up for another round of attacks!
He is about to comply but you tell him not to bother, considering one is available for a brief window of time at the strike of midnight on Halloween (10/31/08), and also considering that a SCHEMA PUMPKIN has clearly been in plain view this whole time, and always has been.
Meanwhile, on level 794 of the TOWER OF SYNDETIC ASCENSION...
The four warriors valiantly melee their way through repulsive foes and onward to the top of the tower.
They only have several thousand more levels to conquer!
PS: ? THIS FUCKING PUMPKIN
CHAPTER 16 OF 22
Using one of your TRUSTY KNIVES, you carve your favorite SPOOK SCHEMATIC into your pumpkin.
Terrifying GAMBIT AETHERS flow from the supernatural gourd and permeate your ARTIFICE AMBIENT. You undergo an incredible transformation.
The SPOOK SCHEMATIC for the CANDY CORN VAMPIRE is complete.
CANDY CORN VAMPIRE
BATTLE SCHEMATA ARTIFICE AMBIENT RIPENESS FLICKER
On another part of the same pumpkin, you carve the SPOOK SCHEMATIC for the TOOTSIE ROLL FRANKENSTEIN.
TOOTSIE ROLL FRANKENSTEIN
BATTLE SCHEMATA ARTIFICE AMBIENT RIPENESS FLICKER
GUMMY WORM ZOMBIE
BATTLE SCHEMATA ARTIFICE AMBIENT RIPENESS FLICKER
DOWNTOWN DISTRICTS BOULANGERE DISTRICT FROMAGERE DISTRICT BEANPOLE ALLEY SQUARE SHOULDER TOLLS BOUCHERE DISTRICT JACK SQUAT UNDERPASS GUTTERPIPE PROJECTS
The Highbrow takes you to the FROMAGÈRE DISTRICT through BEANPOLE ALLEY.
Unfortunately, your vehicle cannot possibly fit through the SQUARE SHOULDER TOLLS and on to the BOUCHÈRE DISTRICT.
You will need another form of transport. You seem to have no choice but to wait around for one.
While you are waiting, the Highbrow makes an uncharacteristically impolite advance! Awkward moments ensue.
The risqué performace has the Swain in libidinous conniptions. He busies both ends of his twizzle-blackened MOUSTACHE.
Luckily he had the foresight to violate brothel policy and disable the booth's SMOKE DETECTOR as many savvy oglers in this establishment are keen to do.
But wait. It looks like the NOSTRILS of the bull in the mural are actually a pair of ELECTRICAL OUTLETS.
Are you sure it's wise to paint over those? I don't know.
You zap the mural and the outlet with your STUN GUN.
The outlets are fried. The window's coin-op device shorts out.
You copy and paste your previous poses into a new document in a lazy yet very hard boiled manner, and rapidly animate the background colors.
You're quite sure that shit has never been this real, and probably never will be again.
Fiesta Ace Dick thinks this Halloween costume stuff is some seriously ridiculous bullshit.
He decides to go downstairs and mess up MK's fort. He's not sure why no one ever thought to do that.
Still trapped on top of DMK's HAT, Ace Dick feels left out of the cool GAMBIT SCHEMA action. He doesn't care how real shit just got, this is just complete and total bullshit.
Death shows up with the game of LIFE. The irony of it is lost upon your stout IMAGINATION.
He says nothing fancy, no dueling for souls or anything. You know, just to pass the time, if you're down with that.
Meanwhile, Past-Future Pickle Inspector continues to operate the POPAMATIC BUBBLE, still attempting to get the SUGAR CUBES to roll in his favor.
DMK lets loose a writhing bewilderment of ill-mannered FLAGELLA.
PS takes advantage of his heightened VAMPIRE SPEED.
You can't coddle what you can't catch!!!
The slower members of your party are less fortunate.
ARTIFICE AMBIENT x3 RIPENESS x3 FLICKER x3
Your FLICKER attributes wane only slightly though, on account of your respectively monstrous consitutions (MONSTERTUTIONS).
All three of your RIPENESS attributes decrement by the same degree, as your SCHEMA PUMPKIN gradually becomes a little less fresh with each passing minute.
When either of these two attributes reaches zero, your GAMBIT SCHEMA upgrade will expire!
It's quite exquisite.
You fondly regard it for hours.
You call forth the blistering white hot fury that is MOE.
You unsummon MOE.
MOE will be of absolutely no use to you in this battle whatsoever.
While Ace Dick sets up the rather complicated board game, Death clicks his BALL POINT SCYTHE and jots down a few notes in his TOME OF WAYFARING SOULS.
He documents the tale of three detectives trapped in their offices. In the due course of time, they escaped from their offices, only do discover they were still trapped in what could loosely be considered a larger office building, held hostage by an unscrupulous mob boss named Mobster Kingpin. MK wets his bill in just about everything, liquor bootlegging, laundering, embezzling treasure concealed in stone busts, prostitution outfits orchestrated by his Madame accomplice along with sinister urban mural rackets. Additionally, MK guards the MEGATON KEY required by the sleuths to exit to the REAL CITY STREETS which are in dire need of their sleuthing services!
The detectives were able to escape their offices by accomplishing various feats both inside their offices, and on the IMAGINARY CITY STREETS, a realm accessible in ways twofold: Through A) electrically-powered WINDOW PORTALS, and B) alcohol-fueled spells of IMAGINATION from within the safety of a small FORT.
The detectives additionally advanced their situation by forming alliances with various KINGDOMS residing on the flip-side of the IMAGINARY UNIVERSE. Problem Sleuth befriended ELVES, Pickle Inspector befriended WEASELS, Ace Dick befriended HOGS, and unfortunately, Mobster Kingpin made an ally as well in CLOWNS. Each aided his ally in its struggle against its warring party and received boons for their efforts. Eventually, Problem Sleuth used his heightened DIPLOMATIC ABILITIES to resolve all disputes among the KINGDOMS, thus winning him favor with the WEASEL KING.
Through the boons of their respective efforts, the sleuths gained a mysterious form of cognizance regarding their FEMALE ALTER EGOS. PS cognized awareness of Hysterical Dame, PI cognized Nervous Broad, and of course, AD merely cognized himself for lack of IMAGINATION. These ladies were revealed to be trapped in a DOLL HOUSE in MK's office, a room which he himself was proven to be trapped in as well, only freeing himself upon receiving his boon from the CLOWNS. The females had to overcome their prison as well as their DIMINUTIVE SIZES by accomplishing various feats within their rooms, utilizing SIZE ALTERING PORTALS to and from the IMAGINARY UNIVERSE involving a MUSIC BOX, a STOREFRONT, a MIRROR, a MANHOLE, and a JACUZZI.
Meanwhile, the sleuths engaged in battle with various DEMONS in the IMAGINARY UNIVERSE, gradually increasing their skill levels and adding to their repertoires of BATTLE TECHNIQUES and COMBAT OPERANDI. At one point, Ace Dick brewed a batch of CANDY CORN LIQUOR. The resulting explosion from the volatile concoction is ultimately what freed them from their offices. (For him, by blowing a hole in his front wall. For PS, by triggering an event which caused the OBOE to be dislodged from the back doors.) Later, Pickle Inspector drank the CANDY CORN LIQUOR to max out his IMAGINATION gauge, giving him tremendous powers in the IMAGINARY UNIVERSE.
His powers lead to these consequences.
A) Splitting himself into 8 clones.
B) One of those clones turning into a monster which killed most of the clones, and was then shot by...
C) One which summoned a CANDY MECHA, and then later killed by the "female" AD in the DOLL HOUSE.
D) One rising into the sky and becoming GODHEAD PICKLE INSPECTOR.
E) One using ABSTRACTED THOUGHT, allowing the real PI to function in reality, while the imaginary ones remain.
F) The final remaining one using TEMPORAL REPLICSIMILE, splitting himself in two. One disappearing into the PAST (PPI) and the other into the FUTURE (FPI).
Also meanwhile, Ace Dick (the original one) found the CONTROL ROOM containing a complicated PUZZLE and a CODE MACHINE. First, he tried jumping out of his SIDEWAYS WINDOW, fell through the IMAGINARY UNIVERSE sideways, and died. In taking a step back, he used the CODE MACHINE to skip ahead to a point in the game where the complicated PUZZLE was solved. (It was later determined that it was Past Pickle Inspector who went back in time to solve this puzzle, and then died.) Upon solving the puzzle, a hatch opened, allowing him to travel to the IMAGINARY UNIVERSE to collect his boon from the HOGS.
A little later, Problem Sleuth found the CONTROL ROOM too. He used the CODE MACHINE to return to an earlier state in the game, to the moment before Ace Dick jumped out the SIDEWAYS WINDOW. This time, AD was able to jump into the STOREFRONT before falling to his death. He emerged from Hysterical Dame's MUSIC BOX, causing him to be VERY SMALL. He eventually came to be normal-sized by using the various SIZE ALTERING PORTALS.
This is how there came to be three Ace Dicks.
Furthermore, by this point, there were two Pickle Inspectors: the original real one (PI), and his super-powered imaginary form in the future (FPI).
After PS used the CODE MACHINE to create the third AD, he then jumped through the UPSIDE-DOWN WINDOW with the PARACHUTE to fall through the sky of the IMAGINARY UNIVERSE, past the SLEAZY BROTHEL IN THE SKY, landing in the WEASEL KING'S palace. This is how he came to be charged with diplomatically resolving tensions among the FOUR KINGDOMS. However, he was only successful upon looking up a CHEAT CODE on GAMEFAQS, and printing it out. The PRINTOUT was generated in the ALCHEMY ROOM, which PI then took and used with the CODE MACHINE to skip ahead to the SUCCESSFUL POLITICAL NEGOTIATION. As a boon, PS received a great deal of AMMUNITION, ELF TEARS, WEASEL SNOT, HOG SLOP, PIE FILLING, and the loyalty of the WEASEL KING, and was returned to reality. He then collaborated with the other ADs to fit the SKULLS of the sleuths previously slain into the slots to unlock the DOUBLE DOORS.
In the ALCHEMY ROOM, PI also printed out a recipe for 5 ALARM HOT SAUCE, which involved a CHIPOTLE PEPPER, a rare item which proved to be found beneath AD's HAT. One of the ADs prepared the concoction in the HOT SAUCE STILL and waited for it to mature.
Upon freeing themselves from the DOLL HOUSE, HD, NB and "female" AD encountered MK, who'd just returned to his office. This sparked a fierce battle, whereby the heroines dealt damage to MK by raising his BLOOD SUGAR and using powerful attacks such as their CHARM BREAK! and MURDER FLUX! techniques. Power for these attacks was supplied when damage was taken by their counterparts. In the meantime, PS and the other two ADs were climbing the levels to MK's office, fighting monsters along the way. Damage they took fueled the females' attacks, and vice versa.
NB's MURDER FLUX was maxed out when PI was fooling around with windows in the CONTROL ROOM. He dropped one window through its own corresponding window portal, in spite of warnings from the HONEYBEE PROFESSOR. The reaction triggered a massive explosion, killing PI and the PROFESSOR. PI met with DEATH for TEA. The PROFESSOR pollinated the floral/fractal-based AFTERLIFE, while GPI fondly regarded it. After her attack, MK pushed NB through his office window. She fell through the sky in a nervous manner for some time until FPI appeared from the past and caught her.
In the course of the battle with MK, AD was killed in a suicide maneuver. He met PI and DEATH in the AFTERLIFE. Together, they eventually bested DEATH in a series of sudoko-based challenges to return to life. Pickle Inspector would bring a tear to DEATH'S eye by completing the LABRYNTHINE SUDOCUBE COMPREHSENSILE.
The earlier window explosion caused by PI was so massive, it caused a city-wide blackout in the IMAGINARY UNIVERSE. The darkness triggered the release of the terrible DEMON called FLUTHLU, the final adversary PS would face at the top of the tower, which physically corresponded with the imaginary TOWER OF SYNDETIC ASCENSION connecting both sides of the universe. FLUTHLU would climb that tower and emerge through the DEATH STAR WINDOW. PS would easily kill FLUTHLU with his TRUSTY KNIVES attack.
On the way up, one of the ADs was attacked by a ZOMBIE HIRED MUSCLE (who would later prove to be a hero) and became ZOMBIE ACE DICK. ZAD snuck by FLUTHLU to discover the giant BOWEN STILLSON DOGG bust blocking MK's office door.
Meanwhile, HD killed MK with KISS OF DEATH. However, MK snuck out of the AFTERLIFE while DEATH was distracted by PI and AD. MK revived himself with INSULIN SHOT, and knocked HD out cold. He then built a FORT out of his desk, drank some liquor, and retreated into the IMAGINARY UNIVERSE.
Once the 5 ALARM HOT SAUCE was finished, the explosion destroyed the BOWEN STILLSON DOGG, allowing PS into MK's office, to find MK in his fort.
The other AD drank the 5 ALARM HOT SAUCE and became a very strong FIESTA ACE DICK.
When FAD inverted the universe by flipping a window, this allowed MK to descend into demonhood to become DEMONHEAD MOBSTER KINPIN, MK's final form. PS, FAD and ZAD went through the office and upstairs to the deck of MK's imaginary pirate ship, the CHICAGO OVERCOAT. FAD had to destroy/dislodge a series of busts along the way, including a SNOOP BUST which he tragically sent into the sky never to be seen again.
PS flipped the ship's STEERING WHEEL to invert the universe again to begin waging battle. PI and AD, having bested Death, returned to the ship. FPI conjured CANDY ARMOR for the party, which was quickly negated by DMK's powerful attacks. The sleuth party countered with a series of their own attacks, raising DMK's BLOOD SUGAR and dealing damage by summoning the WEASEL KING, conjuring a JAWBREAKER SKYLIGHT BOMB, and invoking a COMB RAVE to execute a ridiculously powerful TRIPLE TRUFFLE SHUFFLE. DMK's first face was defeated, only to reveal DMK's second face with two fully revived health meters.
To counter this, the sleuth party invoked their GAMBIT SCHEMAS to enhance their offensive and defensive attributes.
Meanwhile, HD and NB find themselves trapped in the SLEAZY BROTHEL IN THE SKY, where they pursue a mission to best MADAME MUREL, MK's female counterpart and brothel matron, and plug in a GIANT FAN for some reason.
Also, while DMK's WEAKSPOT was exposed, AD foolishly got on top of DMK's HAT. (The AD who was at one point the "female" AD but now ironically functions as the "normal" AD.) DEATH met him on top of the HAT and then challenged him to a friendly game of LIFE, which brings us to the present moment.
It's all so simple you wonder why you even bothered to ask.
You exit the rear cabin of the CHEESE TRUCK, which is parked somewhere in the BOUCHERE DISTRICT.
You enter the rear cabin of the CHEESE TRUCK, and go through the DRIVER'S HATCH.
Hysterical Dame joins you.
Where to, my good lady?
You back through the SQUARE SHOULDER TOLLS in reverse. It appears a driver for another local goods distributor is waiting for you.
You are going to need a stouter build to lift the plug.
The Highbrow is about to invite you to a box social, but is somewhat derailed by your transformation.
The flustered Highbrow loses purchase of his MONOGLE.
You feed the plug through the truck's cabin/square window, but you can go no further.
It seems there is not enough slack in the cord. The rest of it must be bunched up and stuck outside the brothel.
You tell the Swain to step on it.
The cord is dragged further, creating additional slack.
DOWNTOWN DISTRICTS BOULANGERE DISTRICT FROMAGERE DISTRICT BEANPOLE ALLEY SQUARE SHOULDER TOLLS BOUCHERE DISTRICT JACK SQUAT UNDERPASS GUTTERPIPE PROJECTS
You thread the cord through the HAM NEEDLE, one of the city's most famous landmarks.
You pause nearby a HAM TRUCK. It appears some fellow is standing on top of its cabin, peering through his fancy OPERA BINOCULEERS to get a better look at something astounding he may have seen in the sky.
DOWNTOWN DISTRICTS BOULANGERE DISTRICT FROMAGERE DISTRICT BEANPOLE ALLEY SQUARE SHOULDER TOLLS BOUCHERE DISTRICT JACK SQUAT UNDERPASS GUTTERPIPE PROJECTS
You head back to the FROMAGERE DISTRICT. You think the cord now has more than enough slack for the rest of its journey.
You enter the last booth, and exit the cabin of the HAM TRUCK, flattening out the proportions of you and the plug.
The plug has now returned to its original proportions.
Because there aren't nearly enough side plots going on, you think it's time you got started with this epic duel on top of a large HAT.
The game of LIFE is set up. You and Death enter the game.
After divvying up your STARTING CASH, you choose the appropriate GAME PIECES.
Death uses his ADDING SCYTHE to make careful calculations on how to utilize his funds. He considers a variety of COLLEGE BROCHURES to determine where he should begin his education. Life is very serious business, and Death doesn't take it lightly.
Ace Dick grabs Death's cash and runs!
You and Death fit into the PEG SLOTS of your GAME PIECES. Death is in hot pursuit, taking shots at you with his ANTI-TANK ROCKET SCYTHE.
This is extremely silly.
But it is also incredibly serious business!
The gallant heroes a locked in epic combat with the vile demonlout, OGOLG M'RUBBIT: PRINCE OF THE CANDYBEAN WARLOCKS.
They have reached level 33,333 of the tower, which means they are half way to the top. Almost there!
The CLOWN PONTIFICATE is summoned and wields his legendary HAMPER OF THE JADED FOOL'S ENNUI.
In spite of your tremendous VAMPIRE SPEED, you simply cannot avoid the savage volley of FLOPPY SHOES.
All three FLICKER attributes have been dampened. RIPENESS depletes steadily regardless.
Zombie Ace takes care of all the torsos.
He takes time to savor the sumptuous CLOWN MEAT.
After about seven hours horsing around with the loathsome POPAMATIC BUBBLE, you are no closer to landing a favorable roll with those stupid SUGAR CUBES.
You look around to make absolutely certain Death is still away from the table.
You advance one of your PEGS by one SLOT.
You are overwhelmed by feelings of guilt!!!
You mature a new GUILT-TECH: SHAME OF A THOUSAND BEDWETTING CHILDREN.
You put the piece back.
You make a few sharp turns to ditch Death.
You head straight for the tracks, ready to pony up the dough and put yourself on easy street for life.
You speed through an intersection and run over a PEDESTRIAN.
You cradle her in your arms. She is slipping away from you.
You beseech GPI for mercy, pleading that He spare this beautiful woman from such a cruel fate!
A voice nearby reminds you that you are pleading with the wrong entity.
connect 4 HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPOS BATTLESHIP Clue
You desperately bargain with Death, challenging him to any game you can think of for the fair damsel's life. CLUE, CONNECT FOUR, UNO, BATTLESHIP, SUDOKU, well ok not SUDOKU, but how about SNAKES AND LADDERS, that's fun, or what about HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPOS god you LOVE HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPOS.
Death vanishes from the game. He has either been moved by your plea, or has more important business to attend to elsewhere.
The woman's life is spared. You are so happy.
Your superiority has been clearly established! Some bystanders admire your manly initiative.
Ace Dick marries WIFEHEARST.
DMK's EMOTION level rises due to the poignant, tear-jerking moment taking place on top of his HAT.
In his emotional state he is vulnerable to physical attacks!
You expend the required units of HOG SLOP, PIE FILLING, and a single ELF TEAR to invoke the mysterious command.
You summon Death from his macabre realm, or wherever the hell he was when you called him away.
You strike a diplomatic bargain with Death and receive a boon.
You have acquired DEATH'S SCYTHE!
DMK TROMBONE SCYTHE FORT SCYTHE
You stand up to box MK's ears but it seems he has fled the office.
MK deposits an ornate PERSIAN RUG over the TRAP DOOR, then retreats down the stairs.
LEVEL 4 LEVEL 3 LEVEL 2 LEVEL 1
You fall right into MK's trap, and slide down the DUMBWAITER SHAFT into the back room of your office.
MK enters his SPEAKEASY and re-lodges the OBOE between the doors.
You are a little irked that someone would tamper with your carefully thought-out security measures.
Also, you wonder what the fuck happened to your beautiful bust???
DMK ROCKET LAUNCHER SCYTHE BOWEN STILLSON DOGG SCYTHE
You feel a most unwelcome rumbling beneath your feet.
You easily snap the thin, brittle instrument in half.
You wonder what sort of moron thought it would serve as an effective obstruction in the first place.
The little bit commotion proves to be the oboe that broke the camel's back.
The floor caves in beneath you.
While Fiesta Ace examines the hole, you sneak up the stairs.
You push him into the hole.
I'm sorry, but Godhead Pickle Inspector can only fondly regard His creation. The illusory world of form is not to be interfered with, and the divine dance within is to be revered silently through His omniscient ogle.
Oh cripes, in this form DMK regenerates very quickly! Your attacks are having a hard time keeping up with his restorative ability!!
DMK BABY GRAND SCYTHE T-REX SCYTHE DOLL HOUSE SCYTHE LABYRINTHIAN SUDOCUBE COMPREHSENSILE SCYTHE ROMANCE NOVEL SCYTHE EMOTIONS
PANG NECTAR has been raining down steadily with every attack. Eager bees have been collecting it and applying it towards new IMPETUS COMBS.
It looks like three new combs are nearing completion!
You think it's finally time you put your GAMBIT SCHEMA's monstrous strength to use.
Maybe if you throw a heavy object at him? Yes, that huge ANCHOR over there ought to do nicely.
You start making your way over there. But due to your ridiculous FRANKENSTEIN SLOWNESS, you can only move several inches per minute. This could take a while.
BOMP BOMP BOMP
Zombie Ace Dick is borderline retarded and usually can't do anything other than bite things and absorb preposterous amounts of damage!
At the moment he manages to be doing both at the same time.
The Churlish Toff loses his footing.
His BINOCULEERS sadly are crushed beneath the tire of the HAM TRUCK.
You drive through JACK SQUAT UNDERPASS with the plug in tow.
You widen the aperture of the valve and dump the plug through. You jump in after it.
It looks like Hysterical Dame has caught up with you, followed by her smitten suitor. They both jump through the pipe too.
The extra slack from the plug's cord is tightened around the eye of the HAM NEEDLE.
PTEW THUP DANGLE
The plug is projected at high velocity into the MOVING PICTURE SCREEN, now at a reasonable scale.
NB, HD and the Swain are all projected as well.
You loosen the drawstrings on your bodice to normalize your scale, but you overdo it a little.
The Swain gets an ungentlemanly eye-full with his PERSONAL GAWKULAR LENS.
His itchy twizzlefinger begins to twitch.
LEGITIMATE ESTABLISHMENT HORNS KEYS MELONS
Mobster Kingpin has exited the SPEAKEASY, which apparently was the back room of a LEGITIMATE ESTABLISHMENT operating as a front for his bootlegging outfit.
There are just enough quality wares for purchase to be convincing to any nosy flatfoot doffing his cap in your direction.
You exit the shop to the south side of Whore Island. This is where all the playboys and tomcats dress to the nines in their swankiest rags for a midnight hootenany.
The back door to the brothel is nearby. It's the entrance of choice for any discreet gentleman.
From this vantage you can see the famous CLOCK TOWER OF CARTESIAN ALIGNMENT.
It is directly behind the CATHEDRAL OF SYNDETIC ASCENSION, its face in precise alignment with the cathedral's eye. It approaches the strike of midnight.
You barge out of the establishment's door, but MK is nowhere to be found.
It seems he has swapped HATS with one of the gentlemen to throw you off the trail.
Life is good! You made a killing on the bangtails at the track and rolled your earnings into a lucrative empire of casinos, loansharking, ginmilling and rumrunning, which is sort of silly because the game of Life does not take place in the Prohibition Era, but more of a generic modern suburban setting where alcohol is perfectly legal. Still, you stick with what you know.
And to make your perfect life complete, your beautiful wife has just given birth to SONHEARST!
You nudge him affectionately in the snout to establish paternity.
The party has reached level 66,665, one removed from the final floor!
They are locked in struggle with the foul giant, GARNGHUT BLISTERSHOD, DAMNED SENTRY OF THE POTBELLIED EXILES.
GARNGHUT has stomped the valiant WEASEL WARRIOR to death.
The HOG CLERIC swivels his CROOK OF FEALTY and casts the spell PORCINE INTERVENTION.
The WEASEL WARRIOR flips the fuck out back to life!
The CLOWN BARD blisters out an incendiary LUTE SOLO in a fit of joy.
DMK FANCY SANTA SCYTHE UGLY DOG SCYTHE F-16 SCYTHE CALAVERA SCYTHE
DMK TEASPOON SCYTHE
CHAPTER 17 OF 22
DMK's second health meter has been knocked off completely! He can no longer use it to regenerate.
The loss of his beloved weapon has caused Death to shed another tear of black liquid sorrow.
Sorry, some things just can't be rushed.
You grab a suspicious looking gentleman by the collar and rough him up a bit.
Wait, that is not Mobster Kingpin.
You take his HAT anyway because you lost yours somehow. You don't even remember what happened to it.
The giant dame above kindly points out MK from the lineup.
No good stinkin' dames! You can't trust 'em I tells ya.
MK takes his HAT back and flees into the brothel.
You return to normal scale.
You couldn't possibly be that stupid, could you???
You feed the plug through the hole and sneak by MM. The OUTLET is really high up! Only someone with a tremendous TALLNESS attribute could reach it.
You yank the strings on your ASPECT CORSET as hard as you can! Your dimensions elongate considerably.
You lift the plug to the outlet. Even though you are weaker with these proportions, you have no problem lifting the plug because it is very light when it is small! Sort of like how an ant can lift 50 times its own weight due to its scale.
You feel it is incredibly important that events in this adventure maintain strict adherence to the laws of physics, because it would just be so stupid if there were any inconsistencies.
The extended valve punctures the hull of one of MK's shady bust-smuggling ships.
You have successfully plugged in the FAN!
However, the OUTLET is not receiving power. The line runs from the CHIMNEY, controlled by a switch in the dollhouse's ATTIC.
You barge in. The Madame is enraged by your presence!
The drawstrings on NB's corset snap back due to the extreme tension. She falls on to the table.
In your hurry to escape the awful red menace that is Fiesta Ace Dick, you don't notice a small man on the floor with an eyepiece. You squash him like a bug.
You hide in the brothel lobby.
You enter the empty theater. It is totally quiet in here. It's likely no one has been in here for hours.
There is a MOTION PICTURE playing on the screen. You love MOTION PICTURES. You decide to take a seat.
The burlesque cinema makes you a little hot under the collar, even considering your already innately spicy disposition. Yes, you do believe you can make out a bare ankle or two.
Still, the picture seems awfully small...
You obtain a PERSONAL GAWKULAR LENS next to the small man's body on the floor. It surely will enhance your viewing pleasure.
Oh yes, now that's the ticket...
This is just complete horseshit.
MK sneaks up behind you and slaps you on the back of the head.
You conjure a TUBA and prepare to blow a soulful, brooding melody through the substantial horn's brassy girth.
You just can't do it. DMK is directing one of his horrible VEXATIOUS GLOWERS at you. It's very distracting!
You split in two and narrowly avoid the attack. One copy vanishes into the future. The other, into the past.
DMK turns his GLOWER on Problem Sleuth!
He catches you way off guard! Even your VAMPIRE FASTNESS is no match for it!
The FLICKER attribute of your ARTIFICE AMBIENT has been completely snuffed out.
The shared RIPENESS attribute has been depleted by half. Your SCHEMA PUMPKIN is starting to show its age. You should probably take it off the porch soon. It is late November after all.
Problem Sleuth's GAMBIT SCHEMA has expired.
Meanwhile, Death and Zombie Ace Dick both try to help coax Pickle Inspector toward that anchor, but to no avail. Slow and steady wins the race.
You enter the FOYER of the DOLLHOUSE.
To progress to the ATTIC you will need to unlock the door blocking the stairs. It is covered with a number of COLORED PADLOCKS. The locks do not appear to have any keyholes.
There are two other doors, one to a PANTRY and another to a STUDIO.
Off to the side is another lovely CORSET, clearly meant for a woman of generous carriage.
You re-enter Madame Murel's studio at normal scale.
You think it's pretty clear Death has abandoned your friendly game for good. You don't want to leave a mess, so you neatly put the game back in its box.
Meanwhile, you sense your temporal counterpart has finally split in two, sending one into the past (you), and the other into the future (FFPI).
You may finally join the battle while keeping the confusion to a minimum.
The pair of burly men grapple through the studio in a rough-and-tumble manner. The ladies stand aside in awe of the manly display.
Why, it appears the small injured man has managed to crawl through the mouse hole to get a gander at the action as well.
The Swain makes a valiant play for his eyepiece, which in no way shape or form could ever be used in conjunction with a sniper rifle, and possibly could serve as one of numerous red herrings to this effect.
Your combined strength is enough to nudge the anchor a little bit his way. Almost there!
Your FRANKENSTEIN STRONGNESS is more than enough for the task.
5 6 7
SUCKLE AMPHORA COMB RAVE
One of the IMPETUS COMBS is complete! There are two more on its heels that will also be finished very soon!
The completed comb is fitted into the TECTON HIVE.
The LAZY SUSAN OF ENDOWMENT is spun to position PI's SUCKLE AMPHORA beneath the hive.
You both enter the PANTRY. It is quite cozy and domestic and a man could make himself real comfortable in here.
There appears to be a LAZY SUSAN on the table.
You have ascended to level 66,666 at long last.
There is a huge portal opposite to the one linking to the now defunct DEATH STAR WINDOW. The view seems out of focus.
There are two cranks. One on the floor/ceiling, another on the ceiling/floor.
The CLOCK TOWER OF CARTESIAN ALIGNMENT comes into focus. Still, it is very far away and difficult to read. You wonder if there's any way to zoom in on it.
You prepare to fill your SUCKLE AMPHORA to fuel your devastating anchor attack!
Oh my God, this is going to be so awesome!!!
With little regard for dollhouse property, you shatter the small, delicate glass vessel over your adversary's thick cranium.
Look at this mess.
SUCKLE CHALICE COMB RAVE
SUCKLE CHALICE COMB RAVE
You find a striking SUCKLE CHALICE in one of the cabinets.
It is promptly filled with JOCOSE HONEY tapped from the 4th comb.
DMK powers up for a ridiculously deadly attack!
You'd better figure out a way to get as far away from him as possible. I don't care what sort of defensive AEGIS or AMBIENT you've got - if you are within the blast radius of this one, it will kill you all!
You drop the ANCHOR.
Now that you think about it, you wonder why you thought you needed to use a COMB RAVE just to throw a silly old anchor.
The ANCHOR latches on to the base of the CATHEDRAL OF SYNDETIC ASCENSION.
The tension in the rope causes the CHICAGO OVERCOAT to veer off course, outside the reach of DMK's attack.
You sling 180 degrees around the cathedral to the other side, exposing a view of the CLOCK TOWER OF CARTESIAN ALIGNMENT.
Problem Sleuth mans the wheel for no very good reason since it doesn't actually serve any purpose in steering the ship. Still, maintaining appearance of command over the vessel is good for morale.
From the wheel's portal, you can see your own ship swing into view, passing in front of the cathedral's central eye.
You begin to contemplate the vantage of the wheel's corresponding portal.
MM hardly took any damage from the previous skirmish. It seems she's a rather resilient old battleaxe. You are going to have to resort to something with a little more bite.
But she's not about to do keep brawling without her corset.
Someone has stolen your corset.
SON OF A BITCH.
You consider increasing your size to break through the floors and rise directly to the ATTIC.
But you reconsider, as it would likely destroy the DOLLHOUSE completely, and disable the FAN'S power source altogether. That would be a very bad idea!
While you are daydreaming about such things, Madame Murel dips her SKELETON BRUSH into the PALETTE PAINTS. She applies a variety of colors to the brush.
MM lashes HD with her SKELETON FLAIL. No sultry artisan-dominatrix would be caught dead without one.
NB completes a successful AUTO-PARRY: ASPECT DODGE!
CHAPTER 18 OF 22
DMK's attack has ripped the universe in half.
The cathedral and clock tower have been sliced in half as well. The curtains of space and time pull back to reveal the highly energetic EXTRA-DIMENSIONAL COSMIC SUPERSTRING STRATA.
Though the blast missed the ship entirely, the STEERING WHEEL has also been mysteriously bisected.
The next two combs are complete! They appear to be a couple of doozies.
SUCKLE CARAFE COMB RAVE
SUCKLE RAMEKINS COMB RAVE
FAD and MK interrupt their brawl to wonder just what the heck is going on over there with that LAZY SUSAN.
Two of the receptacles are topped off.
You sock HD right in the noggin with a bold swab of EMERALD GREEN PAINT.
She's knocked clean through her corset.
NB chains her COMB RAVE after HD's attack. Together you initiate your DUAL RAVE MANEUVER -> CAUTERIZE SISTERS.
You become engulfed in volatile STRIPPER FUMES. You do declare you're feeling a bit light-headed and warm under the blouse.
You fire up your finishing move, LV. 99 CUDDLETECH -> TUCK HER IN GOODNIGHT.
Madame Murel has been slain.
She drops the SKELETON BRUSH and the PALETTE.
You stroll down the sidewalk with your beautiful, loving family, thinking fondly of all the riches and power you've accumulated. You're going to get a bite to eat at a restaurant you run, and then take in a motion picture at a theater which you also own. It's safe to say you hold this town in the palm of your hand.
But not everyone is thrilled by your meteoric rise to power.
Nearby, a furtive eye leers at you behind an INCOGNITO PRYGLASS.
Your wondrous creation has been desecrated. You simply will not tolerate this!
You pluck the HAM NEEDLE from its foundation in the BOUCHERE DISTRICT.
With divine powers, you elongate the FAN CORD considerably.
SINGER SEWING MACHINE
You affix the meat-based landmark to your trusty SEWING MACHINA.
You hold up the fabric of spacetime to assess the damage. My, my. This is what happens when you allow hooligans to roughhouse in your universe.
The breach has been mended. You put the HAM NEEDLE back where it belongs.
The structures repair themselves as well. The ship's WHEEL is mended.
As the universe comes back together, the four heroes drift into the opposite gravitational field.
You're through with all this aimless ruffianism. It's time to give MK an up close look at ugly end of your HAIRPIN.
GRAVITY BRASSIER MASS *10^1 VOLUME *10^0
Mobster Kingpin puts on the late Madame Murel's stolen undergarment.
The GRAVITY BRASSIER fits like a glove. It's almost a little TOO comfortable.
You pull the MASS DRAWSTRINGS and boost your MASS by a factor of 10.
BRAKA BRAKA BRAKA
The bullets ricochet off of MK's now massive, virtually immovable torso.
A few of the SUCKLE RECEPTACLES shatter. Oh god, there's honey everywhere.
DONG DONG DONG DONG DONG DONG DONG DONG DONG DONG DONG DONG
The CLOCK TOWER OF CARTESIAN ALIGNMENT finally strikes midnight. The toll can be heard throughout the cosmos.
The speakeasy patrons hear the chime and know that it can only mean one thing. It's the witching hour and it's time to get your drink on. This is no dilemma a spirited hootenanny will not address.
The patrons wonder what has become of their beloved legitimate establishment.
A change takes place in the ship's WHEEL.
You acquire the SKELETON BRUSH and the PALETTE.
You put your SCALE CORSET back on while you're at it. You've grown fond of its snug embrace.
You hear a loud racket from the other room. You think it's probably a good idea just to leave it be.
You use the SKELETON BRUSH to apply KEYHOLES to the locks with the appropriate paint colors.
You use the SKELETON KEY on the locks.
You are free to go up the stairs.
Death greets MM in the afterlife politely.
He nervously pours a hot cup of TEA.
HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPOS
He wonders if by any chance you are up for a GAME involving LARGE MAMMALS with INSATIABLE APPETITES.
MM becomes furious at the backhanded reference to her substantial carriage.
You both advance to the second floor of the DOLLHOUSE. It appears this is where MM keeps her whores imprisoned while they're not blowing honey coolers at concupiscent johns to scratch out some salad.
That was actually a lot less dirty than it sounded.
It looks like there's a pair of SUNGLASSES on the floor.
The cathedral's viewport zooms in on the clock. You can now read the time quite clearly!
The CHRONOSCOPE OF AXIAL CONJUGATION extends from the cathedral's eye.
You observe a change taking place in the wheel's viewport.
You also notice that the ship has nearly swung all the way back around to a waiting, ornery DMK. If you are going to do something, you'd better do it fast!
You put BEN STILLER'S SUNGLASSES in your inventory. You never know when you might need to look outrageously cool.
You reach the ATTIC. There is a switch on the wall that powers a line running up the chimney.
You pry the scope from the central groove. The WHEEL becomes deactivated.
You got the CHRONOSCOPE!!!
You've been locked in this futile struggle long enough. It's time to swallow this sucker. The whole enchilada.
Once again, MK turns the tables on you and horns in on your somewhat ethnically flavored racket.
Fiesta Ace Dick is pulled into Mobster Kingpin's generous tummy.
You transform into Fiesta Mobster Kingpin. Your base-mass and volume are amplified considerably.
You are now way too big to exit the pantry door!
He's seen enough. He gives a surly little nod to his accomplice.
Ace has been strutting around like he owns the town long enough. The thugs and their bean shooters have something to say about that. And that thing is, "Dance between lead raindrops you filthy rat!"
You AUTO-PARRY a bullet directly in the gut, saving your dear, sweet SONHEARST!
WIFEHEARST however was not so lucky.
You mutter something to Death between sobs. It sounds something like, we had a deal.
We had a deal.
DMK's EMOTIONS have risen due to the gripping drama unfolding on top of his HAT! Now would really be an ideal time to inflict damage.
Your losses cause you to feel an all-consuming sense of vengeance. You feel like every superhero origin cliche is swirling around you at once!
That Mexican fellow over there seems awfully angry. Maybe you're just being paranoid, but he looks to be fixing to punch something.
So as not to upset him further by referencing his ethnicity, you casually push the pinata that was in plain view back into your GAMES CUPBOARD. You feel foolish for nearly recommending it as an activity.
SONHEARST becomes BATHEARST.
You GUESS you should probably find some sort of costume too. Maybe something with a skull on it I don't know.
To save time you lob the CHRONOSCOPE to your incredibly slow ally.
It fits your SEXTANT perfectly. It will be a breeze faring the skies with this old fashioned nautical navigation device.
Speaking of which, you can see your ship through the scope.
A change takes place in the CLOCK TOWER OF CARTESIAN ALIGNMENT.
The tower transforms into the CLOCK TOWER SNIPER CANNON.
You see through the scope that the CHICAGO OVERCOAT has finally swung around in front of DMK again.
Hey, there you are with the gun. You should probably be careful where you point this thing!
You cast a curious ogle throughout the cosmos. The clock tower coordinates its aim with your movements.
What's that up there?
It looks like something has been caught in the orbit of a distant MOON.
NOOOO! You've got to save it, even if it means taking a bullet for Captain Snoop!
PI had no intention of destroying the precious bust. And in any case, your valiant gesture wouldn't have accomplished anything, since it was of course the cannon that needed to be blocked, not the rifle.
PI's finger slips.
Finally, it is time to supply power to the fan. Soon a chilling breeze shall flood the heavens. The mighty blades will cut at the air like an executioner's axe. The motor will purr like a jungle cat washing blood off its paws. It will bring terror into the hearts of your foes and how they will tremble.
The electric current makes its way through the well-traveled cord.
To reach the fan, it seems the current must traverse the entire span of the universe, and then back again. This should take approximately 18 billion years, twice.
Unless of course you can think of a way to increase the speed of light.
The four heroes have reached the bottom of the city-side of the cathedral.
It turns out descending (ascending?) 66,666 flights of stairs is a lot easier than ascending (descending?) them!
The heroes take a stroll to the Gutterpipe Projects. Their curiosity is piqued by the peculiar arrangement!
GRAVITY BRASSIER MASS *10^+1 VOLUME *10^-1
You pull on the VOLUME DRAWSTRINGS, reducing your volume by a factor of 10. You should be able to leave this blasted pantry now.
The floor beneath you creaks under your highly concentrated weight...
You fall through the floor of the DOLLHOUSE.
First you use your crackshot aim to sever the tether to the ANCHOR.
You then draw aim between DMK's multitude of ghastly eyes.
The cannon volley deals significant damage, which DMK naturally is quick to regenerate!
You'll have to keep plugging away at him to keep pace with his demonic defenses.
On the plus side, this surely means there'll be plenty PANG NECTAR to work with soon.
Zombie Ace takes the brunt of the actual SNIPER RIFLE fire, but adeptly manages to AUTO-PARRY! each shot directly in the face.
ZAD matured a new PARRYCRAFT: GROCER'S WORST NIGHTMARE!!!
You are fed up with being a squishy, necrotic doormat. It is time to use your most potent COMBAT OPERANDI of all!
You quickly transform into ZOMBIE CORSAIR DICK to suit the nautical theme of your awesome marine mammal-based attack.
pooooooo BUMP ZIP
You fire your HARPOON GUN into the great monster's hide and hoist yourself up.
In the process you rudely bump PI and knock his aim off kilter a bit.
You make a stand for the freedom of your people. There shall be no Dick trod upon again. The Prophecy was true. You are the Chosen One.
THE SLEEPER HAS AWAKENED!
The cannon's fire drifts...
CRASH CRASH CRASH
The sperm whale falls through the sky and lands on a building.
This all seems highly, highly improbable.
The impact of the fall finally snuffs out your FLICKER completely. Zombie Ace's GAMBIT SCHEMA has expired.
You have fallen through many floors of a building and landed in a JAIL CELL. There is a friendly looking man in the corner with an odd variety of POSSESSIONS. He is likely completely sane. You look forward to becoming friends with him and working together to escape.
You can't imagine what could possibly go wrong.
Your seething vengeance transforms you into a gritty, gun-toting vigilante.
However, due to your abysmal IMAGINATION, this is the best costume you come up with. You draw a ridiculous looking skull on the front of your jacket with a dark stone. Or maybe it was an old lump of dog shit. You're not really sure.
You can't believe how shitty your guns are. It is extraordinarily unlikely that they work at all.
You watch over the flaming ruins of your once great empire. You have nothing left. You are going to make them pay for this.
DMK's EMOTIONS elevate. Nothing upsets him quite like the loss of a profitable empire of white collar crime. It's almost too much for him to bear.
You consult with the WHEEL OF LIFE to guide you on how to proceed with the outrageous ass-kicking that is sure to follow.
However, the wheel narrowly misses the crime fighting slot. It looks like you and your son will be heading WEST instead.
That's LIFE, you guess.
ACE DICK HAS CONTRACTED CASE OF "PROSPECTOR'S COLON". Press RETURN to size up the situation Date: May 5, 1848 Weather: hot Health: good Food: 1440 pounds Next landmark: 22 miles Miles traveled: 80 miles Press SPACE BAR to continue
You purchase an OX, and some goods like CURED MEATS, WHISKEY, TOBACCO, and other essentials. You pack your supplies into your COVERED WAGON.
Your old life is over. You and BATHEARST will be starting anew out on the open frontier.
As gentlemen, you feel strongly that when confronted with a dictatorial word, an energetic fist should be ready to resist.
In fact, you have a great deal of thoughts on how a gentleman ought to behave.
For instance, his nose should pant and his lip should curl. Additionally, his cheeks should flame and his brow should furl. His bosom should heave and his heart should glow, and last but not least, his fist be ever ready for a knock-down blow.
GRAVITY BRASSIER MASS * 10000 VOLUME * 1/100
Disgusted with the display of foppery, you show them how a real man should behave. A man's man.
You tighten the drawstings on your woman's undergarment.
The great compactification causes an alteration in your biochemistry. FMK becomes Dark Matter Mobster Kingpin. (DMMK, just to make sure things get a little more confusing.)
Your MASS increases by a factor of 10,000. Your VOLUME is diminished by a factor of 100. Your increased density creates a strong gravitational field.
The gravitational forces cause the dollhouse to shake.
HD and NB fall to the room below with the whores.
[ Move ] [ End Hunting ] BOOM
Unsurprisingly, your shitty gun explodes.
It looks like you will have to brave the frontier while short on supplies. Your dear BATHEARST will have to go hungry another night.
To compound your troubles, there is a river ahead. You face the eternal question: to caulk or to ford?
You decide a guy this hard boiled doesn't go messing around with totally unmanly things like caulk.
You boldly ford the treacherous, ice-cold river.
BATHEARST slips and falls into the river and is carried away by the current.
Dear, sweet, precious BATHEARST... there is nothing you can do to save him.
BATHEARST has drowned.
DMK grieves at young BATHEARST'S passing. It is so, so sad.
He is reaching a near-critical spike in emotion!
DMK POW POW POW
DMK continues to absorb the cannon fire. His regeneration keeps pace with the damage.
The wicked salvo is releasing a massive deluge of PANG NECTAR! The busy bees work tirelessly to gather it up.
The next (and second-to-final) comb is well on its way to completion!
Your OXEN have died and you've long-since consumed their remains. You are out of supplies. You have burned your WAGON for warmth. You nurse the opening of your JUG OF WHISKEY for any few precious drops that may remain.
With no earthly possessions left, you resort to wandering the wilderness. As you trudge through a smelly SWAMP, you contemplate the harrowing abyss of despair that is your LIFE. It is more than you can bear.
Weakened by starvation and grief, you crawl to a TREE STUMP and collapse. A peculiar aura of misery surrounds the stump, but you are too depressed to give it much thought.
You are at the end of your rope. Your days of success and happiness are a distant memory. You are a husk of a man.
For some reason, using your last ounce of strength, you are compelled to dig up the stump. You find a GUN buried beneath.
There is only one thing left for you to do.
The tragedy is all DMK can stand. He suffers an emotional breakdown, maturing a new SORROWTECH: LV. 76 DRAMATURGICAL CATHARSIS!
The bees have completed the next IMPETUS COMB!
The penultimate comb drips with particularly rich honey. It is a real whopper of a comb, dwarfing its predecessors.
Ace Dick's game of LIFE has ended.
Was it all an illusion? An entire lifetime spent, on the top of a table on top of a hat in the blink of an eye? Your piss-poor IMAGINATION grapples with the heady metaphysical issue to little avail.
Death returns, possibly to offer perspective on the lessons learned from the game of LIFE you were so eager to jump into.
Perhaps next time you will tread with greater caution.
While Death is distracted, a number of stragglers appear to be wandering out of the afterlife.
Death is terribly flustered. He attempts to shoo everyone back in the door.
SUCKLE EWER COMB RAVE
SUCKLE EWER COMB RAVE
Past-Future Pickle Inspector taps the outrageous powers of the 7th comb's JOCOSE HONEY.
It is so potent, he only requires half the receptacle, for a rare HALF RAVE MANEUVER: LARGE HADRON PART-PICKLE ACCELERATION.
The rest of the honey remains mysteriously for later consumption.
PFPI spots the huge floating TRAFFIC LIGHT PORTALS which everyone seems to have forgotten about. He splits them into two distinct closed circuits.
The PART-PICKLE accelerates himself through one half of the makeshift collider.
PFPI approaches the speed of light. (Which unfortunately for the FAN, still remains at its unchanged constant value.)
Future-Future Pickle Inspector finally appears from the past, conveniently in the midst of the second collider.
FFPI uses the rest of the honey for the other HALF RAVE MANEUVER: LARGE HADRON ANTI-PART-PICKLE ACCELERATION.
He begins his journey in reverse through the other half of the TRAFFIC LIGHT PORTAL COLLIDER.
The LARGE HADRON PART-PICKLES draw aim at DMK, just beneath the LARGE HAT, DRAWN on top of his head.
The two PART-PICKLES collide, obliterating each other in an act of self-sacrifice. It is a chance to use their lives for the greater good which they RELISH.
Death was unsuccessful in his attempt to shoo everyone back in the door, so they have no choice but to brace for impact.
Ace Dick shields sweet Bathearst from the terrific blast. You won't lose him this time. Never again, you say. Never again.
The tender reunion causes DMK to grow a second EMOTIONS gauge. What are you doing to this poor man??
It turns out to be a moot point though. DMK's final health meter has been totally wiped out by the collision. PANG NECTAR is everywhere.
His epic swoon causes him to descend.
There is a strange fellow standing on top of the large HAT DRAWN on DMK's head. You're quite sure you've never detected his existence before, and probably never will again.
You have discovered the elusive, super-massive HIGGS BONEHEAD. He appears to be very dense, unintelligent, slow-moving, and tragically, short-lived.
Meanwhile, DMK's NETHER-REGIONAL VULNERABULB blooms, again exposing his WEAK SPOT.
You can probably end this whole thing right now with one clean head(bulb)shot.
Your SEXTANT is out of ammo!!!
The mournful look in Death's empty sockets says it all.
You are not long for this world, Mr. Bonehead. I am so sorry.
The Bonehead knows what he must do. He flings his tremendous girth bulb-ward.
In a moment of quick thinking, you realize Problem Sleuth will need the scope to reactivate the wheel and turn the universe.
PS plugs the scope into the wheel.
Death convinces everyone to get back inside so they all don't go flying off the top of the hat.
His persistent badgering pays off. They finally listen to reason!
You flip the universe, reversing the Bonehead's course, directly toward the bulb.
But wait, something is happening...
It is too late. The Bonehead's life has expired. He dissipates into a soup of constituent PART-PICKLES, which then dissipate into nothing.
The Bonehead has been slain. Goodnight, sweet Bonehead.
You are determined not to let this opportunity slip by. You are just way too hard boiled to be deterred by the setback. With decisive action, you issue a command to your shipmate.
Pickle Inspector begins his dogged trek towards the barrel. The voyage should take several days on account of PI's FRANKENSTEIN SLOWNESS.
PS throws down his hat in disgust.
SNEAK SNEAK SNEAK SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP
SNEAK SNEAK SNEAK Clowns: ! Weasel: !
Hysterical Dame and Nervous Broad, leaders and liberators of all prostitutes, command their loyal whores to prepare for battle!
The whores comply swiftly. Your party is now accompanied by a HARLOT RANGER, a TROLLOP THIEF, and STRUMPET PRIESTESS.
You are having a hard time inflicting any damage on DMMK, who is shielded by his strong gravitational field. It seems to be absorbing everything you throw at it, including lashes of paint and scalding flames.
The whores aren't having much luck either. The field swallows up your arrows, as well as an entire summoned DEMIMONDE GODDESS.
The Trollop Thief attempts to STEAL from DMMK. She steals nothing, but loses 117 SPONDULICKS in the process!
You examine your SCHEMA PUMPKIN. It is looking awfully pungent. This is unsurprising, since it's almost February and you should have taken it off your porch months ago.
PI's GAMBIT SCHEMA is mere moments from expiring.
It has been almost an hour. PI has ventured several feet across the deck. He seems quite pleased with his progress.
Even the VULNERABULB is getting a little impatient. He has half a mind to close back up if something doesn't happen soon. He checks his WATCH.
It is almost 1 A.M. The witching hour has nearly expired.
The patrons of the speakeasy have put the witching hour to good use. They have imbibed heavily, and any one of these fellas'll tell you the whole wingding's gone like eggs in coffee. Everyone is in agreement it's about time to relocate this hootenanny to the sleazy brothel.
But the HATLESS MAN demands a nightcap before they go. He slurs instructions to the barkeep that he'd like whatever's in that bottle over there.
INK Of SQUID PRO QUO
The barkeep wonders if the man is sure about that, and ventures that perhaps he's had enough tonight. The man assures him of the contrary with a redfaced rebuttal.
The HATLESS MAN obtains the INK OF SQUID PRO QUO.
They head for the studio, but the Madame does not appear to be around. Maybe she's in the dollhouse tending to her ladies?
There is nothing in here but a huge hole in the floor. There are powerful gravitational forces emanating from the hole, and none of these patrons are in any condition to maintain their balance.
The Gentlemen aggress this uncouth ruffian with the sort of tactics that strike their fancy at the moment: by waging stiff contest through a series of old-timey childhood games!
The Dapper Swain makes a smashing play with his RUBBER BALL and announces the triumph by bellowing "horse before carriage!" as is the only proper way. However before he can scoop the JACKS up, they vanish into the field.
The Churlish Toff is having a devil of a time with the match of STICKBALL. His ball bounces into the field as well, never to be recovered.
The Mannerly Highbrow bustles on to the stage with a spirited game of HOOP AND STICK. He was but a lad when he last played. The activity has him feeling youthful and invigorated, free as a swollen-breasted popinjay!
The Highbrow blithely rolls DMMK around Katamari-style, gathering lesser debris lying about such as MELONS, ARROWS, COINS, and bits of EGG SHELL.
The ball soon accumulates every character under the dollhouse. The Highbrow unsurprisingly is absorbed by his own ball.
GRAVITY BRASSIER MASS * 1000000000 VOLUME * 1/1000
DMMK is livid about the lack of respect he is being shown. A top mob boss just ain't cut out for this sorta treatment, you see?
He reduces his volume again, and cranks his mass up by a factor of a billion.
Professor Bee oversees the mammoth undertaking of filling the final comb. Vast quantities of PANG NECTAR were generated from the previous attack. The workers scramble to keep pace.
It is the mother of all combs.
The Professor hopes you know what you are doing.
The electric current is still taking its sweet time. It has barely even begun to make its journey across the universe. And it sure looks like that useless deity over there couldn't give a shit.
Pickle Inspector isn't faring much better with his blasted FRANKENSTEIN SLOWNESS. He almost seems as slow as the lousy stupid speed of light.
You put your RESOLVE HAT back on, which conveniently is the same hat as your NORMAL HAT.
This is not a good time for FRANKENSTEIN SLOWNESS, you mutter.
"In fact," you say, gathering an exceptionally hard boiled demeanor as you poise yourself to deliver a cold blooded line...
THERE IS NO TIME FOR FRANKENSTEIN SLOWNESS WHICH IS A GOOD TIME FOR FRANKENSTEIN SLOWNESS.
You pitch the universe 90 degrees CCW, tipping the BARREL towards an utterly immobile PI. PI readies himself to catch it.
The BARREL bounces off PI's head, sailing overboard laterally.
PS rights the universe to let it fall beneath the WEAK SPOT.
SALUBRITY FRANKINCENSE SPUNK MYRRH PEP GOLD
DMK's supply of SPUNK MYRRH has been depleted.
Pickle Inspector's GAMBIT SCHEMA has expired, along with the RIPENESS of the SCHEMA PUMPKIN which may or may not have ever existed.
The force of entry has caused the orbiting mob of characters to disperse throughout the game. DMMK is nowhere to be found.
DMMK descends from the heavens much to the rapture of his zealous acolytes.
They herald the Messianic arrival of their beloved mob boss. They have kept His empire well and He is pleased.
There isn't much for you to do in this stupid board game so you all decide to leave.
Meanwhile in the afterlife, everyone hears a lot of commotion outside the door. Everyone decides to go check it out, with brazen disregard for Death's polite request that they stay put.
Death throws down his hat in disappointment.
He really must remember to invest in stronger security measures for the afterlife.
The VULNERABULB has closed. DMK makes his ominous final as(des)cent.
INK Of SQUID PRO QUO
The man is delighted that the hootenanny continues into the night with all these new faces on top of this peculiar flat surface, whatever it is. He slurs drunken tidings of merriment to this effect, remarking how he's "jush so happy to shee all these wunnerful pee(hic)pull..."
He readies his bottle for a celebratory swig.
Hysterical Dame swats the bottle of ink away from the foolish drunkard.
The thugs buckle their knees and cast their unworthy torsos sidewalk-ward. Whether it is on account of submission or the strong gravitational forces, it is difficult to say. Perhaps in this Mobster/Gravitation-based cult, there is no difference.
GRAVITY BRASSIER MASS ^ 1000000000000000000000 VOLUME * 1/10000
You give them a good tug this time, lowering your volume and jacking up your mass to a factor of a million million million million, roughly the weight of an Earth-sized planet.
Dark Matter Mobster Kingpin has slipped under his SCHWARZSCHILD RADIUS and collapsed to become Black Hole Mobster Kingpin. Nothing can escape his gravitational pull. Not even light, no matter how slowly and steadily it attempts to crawl out of his gravity well.
You have become so frazzled by people coming and going, you completely forgot to have some TEA prepared for your new guests.
It seems all the imaginary Pickle Inspectors have finally caught up with each other in the afterlife.
You plead with these fellows to stay put in the afterlife. You are at your wit's end. You will do anything.
The gentlemen agree amicably to remain where they are. The gray fellow appears to be way too large and unintelligent to leave anyway.
HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPOS
The Madame, who appears not to have left with the others, gives her assurance as well. She suggests a round of that game you were so fond of. The one with the mammals. She doesn't mind.
If you didn't know better, you would swear the Madame was beginning to fancy you. You become a little uncomfortable.
Problem Sleuth acquires the INK OF SQUID PRO QUO and puts it safely in his POCKET, where any good flask belongs.
The items remaining in your inventory are, of course, 4 precious pieces of CANDY CORN, a lot of useless AMMUNITION, and your supplies of ELF TEARS, WEASEL SNOT, HOG SLOP, and PIE FILLING, each respectively at 36, 12, 18, and 29 drops precisely.
Now all you need is a weapon.
The gravitational pull of BHMK is unstoppable. The Game of Life is being ripped apart. Buildings, trees, ugly dogs - everything is sucked into his EVENT HORIZON.
It's DMK's third and final face. He is more fearsome than ever, with THREE HEALTH METERS, and a deadly BLACK HOLE VERSION OF HIS NON-IMAGINARY SELF pulsing on top of his HAT.
In addition to which, he is completely invulnerable to all physical attacks, and has no weakness to increases in BLOOD SUGAR or EMOTIONS. He is only susceptible to damage caused by righteous fires of charisma, but it is doubtful there is any hero in the cosmos bold enough to wield them.
OH. He also regenerates any quantity of damage he suffers instantaneously.
As you approach the EVENT HORIZON, the strong tidal forces cause your ASPECT RATIOS to be stretched out.
NB loosens her ASPECT CORSET to compensate.
The closer you get, the more pronounced the gravitational TIME DILATION becomes.
To everyone else in the universe, your appear to be slowing down until you seem frozen in time, just outside the horizon.
But to you, everything in the universe appears to be speeding up.
Just before you cross the horizon, you catch a glimpse of every future event in the universe all happening at once.
What you witness cannot be described by words. A spectacle transcending time and space. If it is true a thousand angels dance on the head of a pin, then so it seems all universal events imagined and real play on the polarized lens of a Hollywood B-list celebrity.
You cross through the EVENT HORIZON.
DMK deploys his black BRIER OF CRUELTY. The macabre thicket acts as yet another impenetrable defensive barrier, as if he needed one.
DMK can also wield the bramble offensively. The frisky creepers get down to business. It is the business of not minding their own business, and involving themselves in your business.
PS and PI are constricted in a PRICKLY SLEEPER HOLD.
Could this be the end? I suppose if you were to perish, you could always just walk out of Death's door again.
The four PIs are beckoned by their Creator. GPI fondly regards his beloved children.
GPI has a specific task for the four of you. Naturally you are all eager to do His divine bidding.
PAST ◂ ▸ FUTURE PAST ◂ ▸ FUTURE PAST ◂ ▸ FUTURE
Each PI divides himself into two smaller parts, deploying one to the past, the other to the future.
Their parts continue this process, ad infinitum.
Soon the PART-PICKLES are so small they exist on the atomic scale, and so plentiful, they occupy every location in every moment of the universe's history.
UP QUARK UP QUARK DOWN QUARK ELECTRON NEUTRINO
MORON MORON NEUTRINO NEUTRINO x7 ELECTRON x2
The PART-PICKLES politely play the roles of each elementary particle in the standard model, namely quarks, electrons and neutrinos.
Their forces are propagated by different sorts of lumbering BONEHEADS, including photons and gluons, which lazily shuffle along at the speed of light.
The many particle/energy interactions have even created some MORONS and MORON NEUTRINOS. Sadly, their lifespans are rather short and they undergo the process of MORON DECAY.
The PART-PICKLES spread throughout history to comprise all of the matter in the universe at every moment in time.
And so it was that GPI created the universe. He regarded His creation with fondness and saw that it was good.
The tidal forces have stretched Hysterical Dame into a string of quarks.
Nervous Broad maintains her voluptuous, full-bodied figure, but isn't sure how much more she can loosen her corset.
HD reverts back to her original dimensions.
The others land too.
You wonder where the heck NB went!
It seems you were all standing on her. She tightens her corset.
It looks like the DEMIMONDE GODDESS has been waiting here to greet you, wherever it is 'here' might be.
She had on an earlier occasion summoned her army of COURTESAN ANGELS to help her escape. They naturally proved to be of no use whatsoever.
There are an awful lot of them.
1000, to be precise, each shrunken to a miniscule size.
It could be that these are the one thousand angels which are said to dance on the head of a pin...
Or the head of a KINGPIN.
His Royal Excellency makes a regal and slightly disconcerted perusal of his realm through the BRASS EYEPEEP of his IMPERIAL GAZING WAND.
He has been monitoring developments with the nearby volcano, which until today, had been inactive for centuries.
Yes, it does seem that MOUNT SAINT LARDASS is fit to burst.
THE DEVIL is touching up a few notes on his SULPHURIC TABLATURE.
He documents a tale which was last updated in the TOME OF WAYFARING SOULS by a now rather preoccupied Death.
When Death had finished his last entry, DMK had just exposed his second face, Team Sleuth had invoked their GAMBIT SCHEMAS, HD and NB had begun wandering through the SLEAZY BROTHEL IN THE SKY, and AD was embarking upon a game of LIFE with DEATH.
It is that game where we pick up again.
The match began as a friendly one but became quickly reduced to a series of boorish tactics by AD, who stole all of Death's money while he was distracted. They pursued each other in their GAME PIECES, but AD struck a defenseless woman who was crossing the street. AD pleaded with Death to spare her life, but Death was nowhere to be seen. Miraculously, the woman survived, and then AD and WIFEHEARST became married.
With WIFEHEARST, AD sired the adorable SONHEARST. As a family they enjoyed years of peaceful, prosperous life, as AD built an empire on various illicit LEGITIMATE ESTABLISHMENTS. This activity caught the prying eye of some THUGS, who were none too pleased with AD muscling in on their boss's racket.
One day while taking a walk, AD's family was gunned down by the THUGS. AD AUTO-PARRIED a bullet to save SONHEARST, but WIFEHEARST was not so lucky and perished. This prompted the surviving family to seek vengeance as vigilantes. They became BATHEARST and PUNISHER DICK. Unfortunately the WHEEL OF LIFE had different plans for them. Rather than fighting crime, they would be heading WEST to the open frontier.
Tragically, BATHEARST drowned while they attempted to ford the river in their wagon. AD was inconsolable with grief and wandered the countryside, heartbroken and alone. Eventually he found a GUN underneath a TREE STUMP and shot himself.
With each successive misfortune befalling AD, DMK's EMOTIONS level increased, causing him to be susceptible to physical attacks. This allowed PS to inflict major damage through his GAMBIT SCHEMA -> CANDY CORN VAMPIRE, with its heightened attributes such as increased strength, endurance, and VAMPIRE FASTNESS.
His first move was to invoke COMBAT OPERANDI -> ARMISTYX, summoning Death, who was called away from his game of Life with AD. Death gave PS his SCYTHE to wield against DMK. PS utilized the SCYTHE in its various forms, culminating with the A-BOMB SCYTHE, completely wiping out one of DMK's two health meters, and well as permanently destroying the SCYTHE much to Death's sorrow.
Concurrently to this battle, HD and NB were trapped in the BROTHEL, equipped with a couple of special CORSETS. They were confronted with a very large FAN PLUG which they needed to find a way to plug in for some reason. This lead them on a journey through the brothel which involved conducting sultry performances in a series of PRIVATE BOOTHS, which involved using items on hand to either remove a small MURAL from a wall, or conceal it with a coat of paint, or generally deface it in a rather seductive fashion.
The performances were much to the delight of three GENTLEMAN, a MANNERLY HIGHBROW, a DAPPER SWAIN, and a CHURLISH TOFF, who each sat in their respective coin-operated viewing booths. Once the coin-op slot's time had expired, or became disabled in some way, the WINDOW no longer served to display the other side of the booth. Instead the windows served as portals to various TRUCKS, including a BREAD TRUCK, a CHEESE TRUCK, and a HAM TRUCK, and allowed someone to either exit the rear of the truck, or enter the cabin of the truck, depending on which side of the booth one enters from. This rear exit/cabin entrance polarity was controlled by a series of SWITCHES on the ceiling just out side the booths, accessible only to one with a significant HEIGHT attribute.
NB used these portals to thread the FAN PLUG through them, and out the backs of their corresponding trucks. Stepping through the differently shaped portals, as well as making adjustments to her ASPECT CORSET, served to modify her proportions as well as her VIM attribute, which was at times useful for carrying the plug. She also helped the Highbrow to drive the BREAD TRUCK, while HD also drove the CHEESE TRUCK with the Swain to various destinations to facilitate the threading process, at one point threading the cord through the eye of the HAM NEEDLE.
Finally, they used the HAM TRUCK to deliver the FAN PLUG to the GUTTERPIPE PROJECTS, and fed it through the pipe and out the lens of the MOTION PICTURE PROJECTOR, which projected the plug at a normal scale which could fit into an outlet, and projected HD and NB at a diminutive scale. HD used her SCALE BODICE to bring her scale back to normal, and entered the door of MM's STUDIO. NB remained small, and simply walked through the MOUSE HOLE with the plug.
In the STUDIO, NB used her corset to become very tall to plug in the fan. The outlet however supplied no power, since it was controlled by a SWITCH in the DOLLHOUSE ATTIC. HD encountered an enraged MM. NB then entered the FOYER of the DOLLHOUSE, and then entered the STUDIO from the other side, with her dimensions restored to normal. HD and NB clashed with MM using their weapons of burlesque seduction on the Madame.
Meanwhile, FAD had grown tired of the stuggle with DMK and decided to go mess up MK's fort directly. He rode it like a MECHANICAL BULL and promptly crushed it with his impressive WEIGHT attribute. This sparked a wild chase through the greater facility, sending them down the DUMBWAITER SHAFT, into the SPEAKEASY, crashing through the SPEAKEASY FLOOR, into the SPEAKEASY again while shattering an OBOE, and out the exit AND into MK's LEGITIMATE ESTABLISHMENT.
They exited this establishment to find themselves on WHORE ISLAND, with a view of the CLOCK TOWER OF CARTESIAN ALIGNMENT, whose hands crept toward the strike of the WITCHING HOUR. SPEAKEASY PATRONS loitered in a crowd while DMK tried to blend in by swapping HATS with a nearby gentleman. FAD eventually discovered him, in the process thefting a TOPHAT from a man, leaving him HATLESS.
The two entered the SLEAZY BROTHEL, through the THEATER, and fought their way through MM'S STUDIO where HD, NB and MM were just about to clash. They fought their way through the DOLLHOUSE FOYER, and then into the PANTRY where they continued the struggle by the LAZY SUSAN OF ENDOWMENT.
Meanwhile, the following more tangential events transpired:
- On the deck of the CHICAGO OVERCOAT, PI inched toward a large ANCHOR, hampered by his FRANKENSTEIN SLOWNESS.
- At the behest of PS earlier, FOUR HEROES from the KINGDOMS climbed the 66,666 levels in the CATHEDRAL OF SYNDETIC ASCENSION, besting foes along the way.
- The Dapper Swain found his way through the PROJECTOR, and was crushed by MK's careless foot. He recovered though to give a valiant peeping effort through his PERSONAL GAWCULAR LENS. Eventually, all three GENTLEMEN would end up in MM'S STUDIO in a diminutive state.
After suffering a series of attacks, MM retreated into the DOLLHOUSE FOYER to equip her CORSET. She discovered it had been stolen though. Her assailants pursued her, and she fought back using her SKELETON BRUSH and PALETTE.
On the ship, an IMPETUS COMB was completed just as PI reached the ANCHOR. He was about to use a pretty lame COMB RAVE that possibly involved an achor, when MK swapped SUCKLE RECEPTACLES in the PANTRY to steal the rave for DMK. DMK then used his ridiculously powerful attack, FILL 'EM WITH DAYLIGHT. PI dropped the ANCHOR overboard, hooked it on to the CATHEDRAL, causing the ship to swing around out of range of the attack just in time.
DMK's attack ripped the UNIVERSE in half, exposing the EXTRA-DIMENSIONAL COSMIC SUPERSTRING STRATA. Meanwhile the FOUR HEROES reached the top of the CATHEDRAL, which had also split in half, and they remained suspended in the middle. GPI seeing his creation in peril, was spurred to rare action to repair the damage. He invoked DEUS EX SEWING MACHINA, picked up the HAM NEEDLE with the FAN CORD threaded through it, and affixed it to his SEWING MACHINA. He sewed his creation back together, stretching the cord across the entire length of the UNIVERSE, and depositing the HAM NEEDLE back where it was.
The FOUR HEROES, having floated to the other side of the CATHEDRAL, together turned a CRANK, which caused the cathedral's eye to zoom into the face of the CLOCK TOWER, which was at the strike of midnight, locally known as the WITCHING HOUR. This revealed the very large CHRONOSCOPE OF AXIAL CONJUGATION extending from the eye, pointing at the distant clock.
At the strike of the WITCHING HOUR, PS, who was manning the ship's WHEEL, noticed that the wheel in fact served as a viewport from the clock's vantage. He simply reached into the wheel, reached across the great void of space, and plucked the CHRONOSCOPE from the CATHEDRAL, and pulled it out of the wheel as a normal-sized telescope, deactivating the WHEEL in the process.
He threw the CHRONOSCOPE to the highly immobile PI, who then affixed the scope to his SNIPER RIFLE, which caused the CLOCK TOWER to transform into the CLOCK TOWER SNIPER CANNON, a weapon operated from afar by the SNIPER RIFLE itself. He used the cannon to deal a great deal of damage to DMK, all of which was rapidly regenerated. But the salvo over time released enough PANG NECTAR to produce three very large IMPETUS COMBS, the three biggest ones, dwarfed only by the eighth and final comb yet to be prepared.
The three combs were applied to the following characters and their corresponding COMB RAVES.
- HD: COMB RAVE -> ROLLING THUNDER
- NB: COMB RAVE -> HIGHLY FLAMMABLE CASE OF THE VAPORS
- PFPI+FFPI: COMB RAVE -> TEMPORAL REPLICOLLISION
The first two were used in tandem in the final stand versus MM, completely defeating her. She wound up in the AFTERLIFE, where she and others would be cajoled by Death to play a variety of games. Other characters would arrive in the AFTERLIFE in this manner over the greater course of events, including WIFEHEARST and BATHEARST who died in the game of LIFE as previously described.
Also winding up in the AFTERLIFE would be FAD, when during his scuffle in the PANTRY, MK swallowed him whole by reversing his BELLY OF THE WHALE attack on him through the method of EXTORSION. This caused MK to absorb FAD's essence and become FMK, a much larger, heavier version of himself.
It had also become apparent that MK was the one who stole MM's corset, the GRAVITY BRASSIER, as he was wearing it at the time of this incident. To restore his former size, he simply pulled on the VOLUME DRAWSTRINGS to decrease his volume. This concentrated his weight to a smaller patch of the floor, which he caused to collapse and fall through. He landed underneath the DOLLHOUSE TABLE, beneath which the three diminutively sized GENTLEMEN had gathered.
The FOUR HEROES would eventually gather there as well, as they had since ascended/descended the other side of the CATHEDRAL to the city streets, and jumped through the PROJECTOR. This group eventually included all of the SPEAKEASY PATRONS after the WITCHING HOUR expired, including a HATLESS MAN who managed to obtain the INK OF SQUID PRO QUO for later ill-advised consumption.
After slaying MM, HD and NB acquired the SKELETON KEY to unlock the door to the upper floors. They ascended, freeing several WHORES, and recovering BEN STILLER'S SUNGLASSES. They reached the ATTIC and flipped the SWITCH, supplying power to the outlet. The FAN however did not receive power right away, since the electric current now needed to travel the entire length of the UNIVERSE, a journey which would take LIGHT approximately 32 BILLION YEARS round trip, and would take current through a copper wire even longer.
Below the DOLLHOUSE TABLE, the GENTLEMEN aggressed FMK foppishly, which caused him tighten his GRAVITY BRASSIER to increase his MASS while decreasing his VOLUME, augmenting his gravitational pull overall. This pull caused HD, NB and the liberated WHORES to fall through the floors and under the table, where they, the GENTLEMEN, and the FOUR HEROES would battle what had become DMMK.
They fought DMMK to no avail, as his gravitational field absorbed each attack. The Highbrow playfully used the small kingpin with his LV. 4 HOOPTECH -> DMMK KATAMARI BALL, and began rolling up everyone in the room into a ball, stuck together by his gravitational field. Angered, DMMK pulled his drawstrings even further, increasing his mass and falling through the bottom of WHORE ISLAND altogether. The jumble of characters fell through the sky for some time while below the others dueled with DMK.
ZAD used COMBAT OPERANDI -> CHECK YO'SELF JONAH to summon a WHALE, which he commanded as a mount. It was quickly shot by the SNIPER CANNON. ZAD and the whale fell onto a PRISON BUILDING below, where the whale died on the roof, while ZAD crashed through numerous floors and became trapped in a cell with a PRISONER. Eventually, ZAD, the whale and the prisoner wound up in the AFTERLIFE too.
PFPI used the penultimate COMB RAVE, TEMPORAL REPLICOLLISION, in conjunction with his future self FFPI, who finally appeared from FPI's previous use of TEMPORAL REPLICSIMILE. The two accelerated through the TRAFFIC LIGHT PORTALS and collided together, intersecting with DMK. This attack depleted the remainder of DMK's health and caused him to descend. It also killed PFPI and FFPI in the process, and the PART-PICKLE COLLISION created the short-lived HIGGS BONEHEAD in the process.
Meanwhile everyone in the AFTERLIFE was developing the habit of coming and going through DEATH'S DOOR at will, much to the dismay of Death. It was at this point when AD shot himself in the game of LIFE, emerged from the game unharmed, and reunited with his family, which set DMK's EMOTIONS to be maxed out in time to be dealt massive damage by the REPLICOLLISION.
The cluster of people falling with DMMK eventually landed in the game of LIFE on DMK's HAT. All characters except for DMMK exited LIFE'S DOOR, opposite DEATH'S DOOR, for a large reunion with the deceased characters on top of the HAT.
PS turned the ship's WHEEL causing the large BARREL to fall and bounce of PI's head, down to the VULNERABULB below. It struck the bulb, depleting DMK's SPUNK MYRRH. The bulb closed, DMK ascended and soon revealed his third and final face. PI's GAMBIT SCHEMA finally wore off when the RIPENESS ATTRIBUTE was finally depleted, completely rotting the SCHEMA PUMPKIN, which may never have existed in the first place anyway.
DMMK in the game of LIFE pulled his drawstrings hard enough to collapse into a BLACK HOLE, becoming BHMK. BHMK sucked in his two groveling thugs, the entire game of LIFE, all the characters on the HAT (sans Death, MM, the whale, the Bonehead, and all imaginary PIs, who obediently remained in the afterlife). LIFE'S DOOR and DEATH'S DOOR were sucked in too.
They all landed on top of BHMK'S HAT inside the BLACK HOLE, greeted by the DEMIMONDE GODDESS and 1000 COURTESAN ANGELS, with no apparent means of escape.
DMK's new form quickly ensnared PS and PI in his BRIER OF CRUELTY. PS had recently obtained the INK OF SQUID PRO QUO dropped by the HATLESS MAN, but has yet to discover a weapon to wield against DMK.
In space looms the biggest comb of all, nearing completion. Orbiting it is a MOON, about which itself orbits the CANDY MECHA LEGS, which support the precious CAPTAIN SNOOP BUST.
Also, on GPI's instruction, PPI, FPI, PFPI, and FFPI just became all the subatomic particles that ever existed in the universe, and always comprised every character and every physical location all along.
The Devil wonders why he's even bothering with this useless exercise in the self-evident.
The gravitational pull of BHMK is slowly drawing every heavenly body closer together.
The levels of the CATHEDRAL OF SYNDETIC ASCENSION are telescoping under the forces of compression.
The BRIER OF CRUELTY is choking the life out of you and your ally. You'd better think of something fast. Your lives depend on it.
Indeed, the entire universe depends on it.
You retrieve the TECTRIX OF THE ARBITOR you were granted as a boon from the Weasel King a while ago to duel with Death. You had since stowed it in your HAT for safekeeping. That bit of cunning foresight was certainly a feather in your cap, figuratively speaking of course.
Your foolish butterfingers mishandle the feather! You probably should have spent more time leveling up your TICKLETECH first.
You obtain the legendary TECTRIXCALIBUR.
PI lands at the ship's helm, ready to put the wealth of nautical experience from his skippering days to use.
The 8th comb is complete.
SUCKLE PORRINGER COMB RAVE
Righteous fires of charisma wipe out the brier. The resplendent light of divine PULCHRITUDE consumes your spirit.
DMK's 3rd health meter has been eliminated.
With everyone distracted by the spectacle overhead, you think now would be a good time to lodge a CONTRABASS CLARINET between the DOORS OF LIFE AND DEATH. You're tired of letting so many wayfaring souls slip through your bony fingers.
When you open the door, the massive difference in gravitational potential sucks you and everything in the afterlife through it. Sort of like a short circuit of gravity. Whoops.
FLOWERS and ANGELS and HONEY BEES are everywhere. What a mess.
You've got to get that door closed!!! It won't be easy though. It's likely that only the strongest man on Earth can close it.
No stranger to massive suction forces, you open that awesome aquatic pietrap of yours and deal your most advanced STOMACHTECH of all.
The whale above sheds a tear of salty liquid admiration.
You consume your counterparts, ZAD and FAD, finally uniting as one mean, strapping Dick of unprecedented VIM.
A phenomenal transformation takes place.
Really, you are just utterly astounded by how shitty your IMAGINATION is. If your IMAGINATION was a face you would punch it.
In the face.
You close the door with little effort.
Death lodges it shut with the sturdy instrument.
The entire flower was sucked through the door, inside-out. On closing the door, the gravitational forces have been snuffed out, leaving an empty stem where the afterlife once was.
GPI regards it fondly, albeit in a slightly disconcerted manner.
The angels flock near the EVENT HORIZON, as far as they can make it against the pull of the gravitational field.
Due to principles of uncertainty regarding the existence of angels in a vacuum, each splits in to ANGEL/ANTIANGEL PAIRS.
For each pair, one of the two escapes, while the other falls back into the black hole.
The DEMIMONDE GODDESS also splits, creating a pair of DEMIMONDE SEMIGODDESSES. One escapes, the other stays.
The black hole emits SATANGELIC HAWKING RADIATION, and shrinks due to loss of mass/energy.
The DEMIMONDE SEMIGODDESS commands her army to throw everything it's got at the unholy demonhead.
The angels and antiangels that remained in the black hole settle back down on the HAT.
The ornery drunkard snatches his well-traveled headwear from Death.
He has a bone to pick with him, and he is going to let the bony fellow hear it.
The man vomits into his HAT.
The Semigoddess bestows you with the most powerful set of KEYS in the universe, the SMITH CORONA BLOTSPITTER.
Dispatcher of the despotic; Convincer of the uncompelled; It is one of several fabled holy weapons reserved for the CHOSEN ARBITOR, sealed and protected by the realm's hallowed figures of nobility.
She plucks a RIBBON from her hair and supplies you with ammunition.
You acquire one INK RIBBON CARTRIDGE.
You load the CARTRIDGE into the BLOTSPITTER, pull back on the bolt handle, lock and load with a DING.
RATTLE TATTA TAP TAP DING
You hammer at the KEYS of the SMITH CORONA. The machine gun fire of your typing roars throughout the heavens.
You pen a strongly worded, rather UNPLEASANT NOTE to DMK.
With a flourish you notarize the memorandum with some official marks and present it to DMK for his judicious consideration!!!
DMK's SICK BURN meter suffers a critical spike.
DMK IS SO STUPID MORON dmk you smell bad and you suck. god do you even know how lame you are? what is with all these heads and where do you get off being so impossible anyway. we spent more than half the game fighting you. if ugly retards were turds you would be the one that smells the worst problem sleuth JACKASS. UGLY
You load the scathing doctrine into the weapon's CARRIAGE.
In a last ditch effort to salvage diplomatic proceedings, you invoke the ultimate resolution in your formal attache of plenipotentiary clauses, motioning for bilateral demilitarization and cessation of hostilities for the mutual advancement and prolonged commitment to the furtherance of harmonious relations among sovereign parties.
DING DING DING DING
PEACE BE WITH YOU.
P A X
DMK's 2nd health meter has been eliminated.
GRAVITY BRASSIER MASS * 10^100
Seeing your precious black hole dwindling, you give your brassier's drawstrings another stiff tug.
Your MASS now stands multiplied by a factor of a whopping googol. Your MASS exceeds that of the entire universe.
BHMK now occupies the center of a SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLE.
Sensing his impending demise, DMK grows a few extra health meters.
OH SWEET A NEW PAGE.
<- GO BACK
RUMP BAF BAF
You give the MORONS a lively poke with your GAY PORNOGRAPHY.
The MORONS shed tears, either of torment, or of gratitude.
You will assume it is the latter.
The universe is becoming a rather crowded place.
The CHICAGO OVERCOAT is headed straight for an encroaching SUN.
If not for your wealth of nautical seasoning you would find this development rather disconcerting.
You take the CHRONOSCOPE from the WHEEL again, and attach it to your trusty SEXTANT.
The CLOCK TOWER SEXTANT is activated. Its great INDEX ARM PENDULUM swings to and fro, simultaneously plotting the ticks of time and the altitude of heavenly bodies.
Through careful adjustment of the instrument's various mirrors and dials, you rotate the entire universe about the ship's vertical axis.
The ship casts off from DMK, who wants no part of that blazing sun. You are free to navigate the stars... for however long they might last.
You pop the scope back in place to reactivate the wheel.
Although that may have been somewhat premature. You are now headed directly for the clock tower!
You already did that a while ago!
And it was a lot of fun.
But the time for such games has passed. MT. ST. LARDASS is in a critical state of instability. Your kingdom is in jeopardy.
You direct your IMPERIAL GAZING WAND above. What you spy through the EYEPEEP troubles you deeply. It is not just your kingdom, but the whole universe which is in peril.
You regally ponder the fuck out over the dilemma. You know the answer lies within the depths of your bottomless kingly wisdom.
You know there is only one hope. There is only one CHOSEN ARBITOR.
The souls of the ARBITOR and the KING merge as one. The prophecy was true. Destiny flips the fuck out.
The rest of your INK is drained, fueling a final conflagration of all-consuming holy charisma.
The majesty of your personal charm spreads throughout the cosmos. Legend will speak of a great CHAMPION OF PULCHRITUDE. Scribes will scrawl His praises. Bards will wail His glories. Poets will bleed their inkwells dry and weep them full again. Men of character will breathe this story their passion; as warrior blows white conk on jagged rock; as paramour puts flushed lip to lover's mouth. Men of spirit aflame, open of shirt and snug of pantaloon; rose-breasted men with swiveling hips, nimble legs and restless hearts; men whose vehemence of temperament fills their throats with melody, their footwork with rhythm. The fiery cluck of learned, genteel men as these will pique the ear with tales of this Champion.
A Champion, who by mettle of His glowing personal charm alone, saved the universe.
The VULNERABULB blooms, exposing DMK's FETAL SEEDPOD. If it is allowed to detach, it will mature into a new and revitalized DMK.
You probably should not let this happen!
Unfortunately SEPULCHRITUDE has sapped your last ounce of VIM.
There isn't even a large object around to throw at it anyway!
Meanwhile, that useless skipper of yours is off gallivanting somewhere.
The useless skipper makes note of the development with his keen ogle.
No time to correct the ship's course! You'll have to refit SNIPER RIFLE with the scope for a final killshot.
Hurry you fool!
This is incredibly urgent!
GRAVITY BRASSIER MASS * 10^GOOGOL
Enraged by the downfall of your demonhead, you give that corset one last tug. Your MASS soars to an insane multiple of one GOOGOLPLEX.
Through the inscrutable extra-spatial crannies and fissures within the singularity, you undergo another bizarre transmogrification.
GRAVITY BRASSIER MASS * 10^GOOGOL
You've already got about a thousand of them, lardass!
BHMK swells to a monstrous ULTRA MASSIVE BLACK HOLE.
The SUN is absorbed by the black hole, filling it with daylight.
The stellar body heats up that ludicrous battleship you call an ass.
Elsewhere, molten rock churns.
PI finally puts the SNIPER RIFLE together. He takes aim at the SEEDPOD.
DMK is too weak to resist the pull of the black hole anymore.
PI misses his shot opportunity!
There may be one last hope.
You blast a chunk out of the MOON.
CAPTAIN SNOOP and his MECHA LEGS are jettisoned from the satellite.
There goes the MOON.
As the black hole expands, PS is pulled closer to its EVENT HORIZON.
You watch universal events around you accelerate as it approaches.
The CHICAGO OVERCOAT approaches the clock.
Just before the ship collides, the universe flips around sporadically for reasons you can't explain.
Time zooms off to infinity.
The electric current travels through the FAN CORD, across the relativistically shortened span of the universe in the blink of a relativistically accelerated eye.
It reaches the HAM NEEDLE, loops through it, and doubles back across the universe, lickety-split.
Finally, it reaches the SQUARE SHOULDER TOLLS, through the BREAD TRUCK, out the private booth and through the ceiling of the brothel.
CAPTAIN SNOOP'S noble mount comes to a rest at the foot of whore island.
The end of his long journey coincides with that of the electric current.
The bust falls into the LABRYNTHINE SUDOCUBE COMPREHSENSILE'S unfathomable catacombs.
Once again, no time to correct the ship's course! Gotta save that bust. Only you can do it!
YOU KNOW THAT CUBE INSIDE AND OUT. LITERALLY.
You pop the scope back in the wheel and steer like man possessed. You mature the ultimate STEERTECH: CHAUFFEUR'S RECKONING -> A MAN. A WHEEL. A DREAM.
The universe flips around sporadically for reasons which are now plainly evident.
PS is pulled into the event horizon.
The Snoop emerges unscratched. The cube has been bested once and for all. It vanishes.
YOU'RE A WINNER
You may be a winner for now. But your triumph looks to be short-lived.
You order your army of angels/anti-angels to finish off the foul demonhead. They swarm to your command.
DEFEND THE SEEDPOD AT ALL COSTS! BACK YE WENCHES!!!
The Demimonde Semigoddess has been slain.
You turn the universe, redirecting the bust toward the underside of the black hole.
CAPTAIN SNOOP is pulled in.
The angelic army has been all but exterminated. A preoccupied DMK does not notice the trojan bust advancing.
The bust explodes on impact. The candy inside rains sugary death on the FETAL SEEDPOD.
SALUBRITY FRANKINCENSE SPUNK MYRRH PEP GOLD
DMK's supply of PEP GOLD is almost completely wiped out!
But alas, there is just a little bit left.
It is time to make the ultimate sacrifice. You finally part with the precious cargo.
SALUBRITY FRANKINCENSE SPUNK MYRRH PEP GOLD
DMK has been slain.
Here comes that MOON.
BHMK is pushed through his corset.
MOUNT SAINT LARDASS erupts.
The black hole explodes.
The universe reverts to its prior dimensions.
Everyone and everything trapped in the black hole is ejected in random directions throughout the universe.
DMK'S HAT falls through the sky.
You breathe a sigh of relief. You can't imagine what you could possibly be forgetting to do.
What the heck is that giant ticking sound?
And what is the meaning of this large, busty fishwoman in your wheel's viewport?
The bust to the face sends you reeling.
DMK'S HAT is skewered by the HAM NEEDLE.
MK rides the HAM NEEDLE like a...
Well, like a giant, deadly needle.
Mobster Kingpin has been slain.
He drops the MEGATON KEY.
Picking up the ludicrously heavy key is no sweat for the strongest man in the world.
You stash it in your inventory.
Hysterical Dame and Nervous Broad ride in an AUTOMOBILE which some grateful whores were kind enough to supply.
While the others set their feet aflutter with riotous mirth, our hero is in no condition for merriment.
You are one of the top Problem Sleuths in the caliginous void. Solicitations for your service are separated by eons of white noise in the stew of primordial consciousness. Compensation, abstract. It is a dewy whorl in fibrous skein of Now. You are feeling particularly existential tonight.
What will you do?
Oh. That one.
The dancer spins to a haunting melody.
The light is so bright. You wonder what tantalizes you on the other side. If only you could...
Wait, don't go...
You breathe a deep sigh, resigned to the dark veil settling over your reality.
Existing was fun while it lasted.
What is the meaning of this moist feeling on your cheek? What mad torment do the Gods have in store for you next?
Are your eyes deceiving you? Is she slipping away?
Was it all a dream?
No it wasn't a dream! Quit bumpin' gums, ya noodlenosed loon!
Now prop your lazy bones on those getaway sticks and shake a leg, mister! Everyone get in the flivver or this trip's for biscuits, see??
PROBLEM SLEUTH END CREDITS Animation: Andrew Level Design: Andrew Character Design: Andrew 3-d Rendering: Andrew Production Manager: Andrew Art Direction: Andrew Finance Consultant: Andrew Audio Designer: Andrew STORY: YOU
RUMP BAF BAF Gent: ? !
Weasel: ? !
olf tyme Guild of Dystinguished Gentlemen
EGRESS -USTACHE WAX
Weasel: !! Hog: ? ? ? Hog: !
SLAP SLAP SLAP SLAP SNEAK SNEAK
PIE SNOUT FRIENDSHIP
A dapper young captain sets foot 'pon his aero-trolley's personcarriage.
"It's time to bust this coney y'all. In a hot second, I'll be hittin' them switches and gettin' this bitch pumpin' and jumpin'. So screw your shit on tight and enjoy the flight."
BUSTS R US: !
Death is nowhere to be seen. You take the opportunity once again to sneak out of Death's door.
YOU'RE A LOSER! POF
Phone RING RING
Another balmy summer evening. The city rolls these nights like loaded dice.
It's tough for a flatfoot to make it in a town like this. Some towns are built loose and a stiff breeze of upset blows through, but these bricks are tight-knit. Built like a damn Chippewa birchbark canoe. Not much daylight seeps through, see? A gumshoe asks questions and questions upset. It's like some shawlless dame frostbit in winter, too proud to take your coat for some damn reason. You know how dames are. The city turns her cold shoulder to a type a fella and that's all there is to it.
But a steak dinner don't pay for itself if you catch my drift.
The streets won't bang on your office glass and ask for placation. The streets ease themselves, but a type of fella knows better than to just step aside. A man finds space between the city's greased wheels of upkeep and when the time spins along it sees, yeah, it sees there were feet filling shoes on just that slab of rock. A man waits and listens. Every place, a placation. The alleyway spike of a bottle breaking - some tipsy beggar tithes to gravity, razor jewels shimmering on oilslick asphalt. The wail of a baby three floors up - ink is blotted before pact of appeasement sealed, hot formula dabbed on mother's wrist. And the shrill complaint of a phone...
Ain't no one can say a man wasn't filling shoes here.
You pick up the phone and to no surprise it is some dame yacking about something.
It's always the same with dames. Always roped in a fix to some john with busy meat hooks and a spell of bad habits. Makes a man reach for his flask just thinkin' about it.
Miss, if you'll just settle down I'll...
Toots, listen. I can barely understand a word you're...
Sweatheart, I can't make heads or tails of...
The woman was clearly hysterical.
It doesn't matter what she had to say though. A hard boiled lug like you has seen enough weepy lamps and spoiled makeup jobs to know what the matter is. What the matter is there's a problem. And you'll be damned if you aren't gonna be the fellas to sleuth it.
There's only one thing left to do now.