A piece of interactive fiction vs. role-playing game, where you get to suggest the next move and influence how the story progresses.
#14. A box of tricks
Friday, September 30, 2005 You stare at the keypad, a series of digits and a plain small lit square.You chuckle as you realise how simple this might be, and press your finger against the panel, and the soft glow increases in its intensity. Fingerprint scanner. Easy.
As you're smiling smugly, the square turns red, suggesting an incorrect scan. You try again, but still the square turns red. Three strikes and you're out, you imagine. Try a final time, and as cliched as you like, an alarm bell starts to ring down the corridor alerting them to your failure in accessing the safety deposit box.
Thinking quickly, as seems to be your forte recently, you pull out the finger from your pocket, unwrap it and stick it to the panel. The glow intensifies once more and then turns green, silencing the alarm bells, but not early enough to stop a couple of men running towards you. You quickly stuff the finger back in your pocket.
"Is there a problem here sir?" one of the guards asks
"Sorry, my finger.. I er... wasn't concentrating" you respond
"Okay, if you need some training with regards to use of your fingers sir, we'll be happy to oblige" the other guard smirks.
"Yeah. Thanks." and the two wander off in the direction the came from, leaving you alone with the open box.
You pull the door open further, to reveal its contents.
A manilla envelope
A CD
You pull out the envelope and open it up. Inside, it contains a number of photographs, a map, a slip of paper with some digits and letters on it, a newspaper clipping, and a mobile phone SIM card.
You put the items all back into the envelope, along with the CD, and close the box.
#13. Unlucky for you.
Thursday, September 29, 2005 You respond to the doorman, "Horses"."Okay, let me just check that against the computer. You know we have to change it each time you come down here, so we have to look at the database. One moment".
The doorman disappears into the building and you stand around waiting for a matter of seconds before he returns, holding a printout.
"Okay that seems to be okay Mr... oh damn it, the printer is on the blink again. Sorry sir, anyway, you're good to go. You know where you're going?"
You nod your head, to say anything else may give it away, and he opens a door which you walk through, and meet a second man who ushers you through to a series of corridors and doorways. The feeling that a massive superstructure lies infront of you starts a chill to run through your body, but somewhere in there, is a box with some answers.
You follow the signs for some ten minutes until you reach a wall with about two hundred safety deposit boxes, each numbered. 12038, 12039, 12040 - your box. With a security keypad.
"Gah!" you sigh, every step forward is another hurdle, almost like someone is playing a game with your life. You rub your temples and think for a moment.
suggests...Tap in 5, 3, 6, 2. Those are the numbers corresponding to L, E, N, A on a telephone keypad.
suggests...Go home and have a kip. You must be shattered and it's all so very confusing. A power nap should sort you out.....
suggests...Well it's clearly "42" isn't it, right Doug?
suggests...Who says the keypad is numeric and who says the keypad is a keypad? Check to see if it hinges to reveal a finger print scanner, for which you have a spare on in your pocket.
#12. Taking a step back.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005 You pick yourself up from the pavement, still feeling queezy from vomiting. You've managed to leave the finger on the bar when you got dragged out of the bar, and if you don't get it back soon, the barman, already a big fan of yours for redecorating his establishment, will pick it up, call the police, and they'll be on your tail.Its already too confusing to understand why you're holding someone's digital ransom note, yet alone to have to explain it to the police. You take a deep breath, and sneak back into the bar.
You can see across the room, the paper package still half wrapped on the bar next to a pile of the contents of, until recently, your stomach. The barman, standing in a corner reaching for a mop, muttering to himself. You pick up an empty bottle of beer from the table next to you and throw it at the opposite corner of the bar, smashing into the wall. The barman immediatly looks up at the noise, and walks over to the other side of the room. You nip to the bar, grab the package, and run back out.
Panting heavily, you're back in the same position you were hours ago, mysterious package, with its contents now known to you, but still a mystery. You pull out your wallet and check for cash, enough for a cab trip. Fold's bank is probably a missing piece of the puzzle. Someone is putting something there, and possibly related to the supposed kidnapping.
Some minutes later you arrive outside the bank.
"Sir, can I help you?" the doorman asks
"I'm here to get to a safety deposit. Number 12040"
"Of course, and the passphrase is..."
You hesitate.
suggests...Sorry for the delay today. Was trapped in Switzerland.
suggests...For a person who can't remember anything, including your name, who you are and why you're holding Lena to ransom you must have a very good sense of direction to find the bank unaided... However, that aside the password is: "A SIXTH TEEPEE, NORM!" say it to the man and find that box.
suggests...I reckon it's a toss-up between "Lena", "Horses" and "Saturday 9pm". Since the doorman asked for a passphrase, not a password, I'm plumping for "Saturday 9pm".
suggests..."The passphrase is.. of course, not necessary. There was no catchphrase. You won't catch me out that easily.."
suggests...Comments closed.
#11. Deja Vu
Tuesday, September 27, 2005 You walk back to the bar for a third time, sit down and order another drink."You sure you want another one?" asks the barman, "they're just going straight through you, drink, bathroom, drink, bathroom.. you got a hole in you or something?"
"Something like that. Just give me another whisky, lots of ice" you say and the barman pours you the drink muttering to himself.
You pull out the mobile phone and call the number, the area code seems strange, almost like a premium number. After a few rings an automated voice answers.
"Thankyou for using Automated Voice Services. Please hold, we are putting you through to your selected voicemail box." the computer generated lady says. You hold.
After a matter of moments, the silence ends, and you listen to the message.
"I'm not normally one for clichés, but we have your daughter and I'm sure you can work out what comes next. £2.5 million in non marked, unsequential used notes, deposited at Fold's Bank. I hope you enjoyed the little digit of sentimentality we sent you. Don't fuck around. There are nine left, and then we start on the rest of her. We'll call again with more instructions. Saturday night, 9pm."
Suddenly you feel pale and the blood once again drains from your face. You look up at the barman and nothing can stop what is about to happen next, as you vomit all over the bar. As the barman is swearing and shouting at you, walking around to throw you out of the place, the message is running around and around in your head....
...it was your voice on the voicemail message giving the ransom demand.
You have been thrown out of a bar, and are lying on the pavement. You have your mobile and wallet, but dropped the severed finger as you were carried out by the barman. It is starting to rain.
suggests...Hike a cab, drive to local pharmacy, get quick-fix drugs and find a dry quite place. Recheck mobilephone for leads.
suggests...Pick up finger. Go back to bar. Demand lift to local hospital off bar staff.
suggests...Pick up the finger. Get a cab to Fold's Bank. Have a look in safety deposit box number 12040, as per the voicemail you received earlier.
suggests...I'm with Slim, anyone who remembers that your voicemail had those digits in must be right. Get that finger, get down to that bank cos you need to find that fingerless girl.
suggests...While I'm on the subject of voicemail messages, you should phone 1471 soon, before you get called again, so you can find out who left the other message.
suggests...Tommorow's post will be slightly late, as i'm stuck in a pitch meeting all morning. sorry, but hopefully today's was a enough to keep you thinking for a while ;)
#10. A place to think
Monday, September 26, 2005 You drink the dregs of the whisky from the tumbler, and walk back to the toilets. You need some space to think and whilst a bar on a late late Friday night is great for those who need to drown some problems, your's need greater clarity of thought.You wander into a stall, close the door, sit down on the toilet with the seat lid lowered, and pull out the finger from your pocket. You slowly peel it from its now somewhat coagulated paper wrapping, and whilst taking a deep breath, lift up the finger.
It's slender, and whilst hacked like ground meat at one end, still has an air of something attractive to it. The nail is chipped, but painted. You catch a whiff of the flesh which has started to smell. You've no idea if its too late to put it on ice, in the hope that if you find the girl which this came from, its could be quite literally re-united with its former owner, but plan to do so anyway.
Turning the finger around in your hand, you catch some writing on the underside. Shocked, you move in closer to see what the glyphs say. Simple numbers. A phone number: 09997 108 108. You swallow. This is a ransom note. Suddenly things start falling into place. The voicemail about Lena with something about money, Lena not turning up for work, someone hanging around her work... Okay, maybe you're jumping to conclusions, but someone somewhere has a digit missing, and you need to find out why.
You are sitting in a bar toilet stall, holding a severed finger with a phonenumber on it. You have a wallet and mobile phone in your pocket. You ponder your next step.
suggests...Call the number dufus.
suggests...Who the hell gives you a premium-rate number for a ransom call?! Clearly they intend to get their money simply by shafting you via the call costs.
Anyway - see if that number's in your mobile phone. Then call it, you don't really have any other choice.
suggests...You should definitely check whether the number matches any of the names in your mobile phone's memory. Then it might be watching that TV in the bar that's just started showing the news.
suggests...Good Lord. Use the mobile and dial the number on the finger. Don't waste another second. Put the severed digit on ice till you are reunited with its owner.
suggests...Go back to the clearing
suggests...Order another drink to get a bit more dutch courage; evrything may seema bit clearer; maybe one of the more flamboyant cocktails on the menu. Use the ice from to cool the finger and dial the finger-number (stick 141 in front to remain unidentifyable just in case...).
suggests...Comments are now closed.
#9. I just called to say...
Friday, September 23, 2005 In your phone, on the voicemail, and quite possibly on that poster, "Lena" is rapidly becoming a name used with regular occurance. Maybe she'll be able to help you piece together who you are, and what you're doing with a severed finger in your pocket.Still in the back next to the phone, you load up the mobile phone's address book, scroll to Lena's number, and hit dial. It rings a few times before being picked up. Heavy dance music is playing in the background on the other end and you struggle to make out what the callee is saying.
"Hi, yeah.. is Lena there?"
"*thud thud thud* what?!"
"I said is Lena there, this is the Pink Kitten right?
"*thud thud thud* yeah.. Pink Kitten.. Lena? oh sure.. no, she's not here.. she didn't turn up last night, and she ain't here now.."
"Oh okay - do you know where I can get hold of her?"
"*thud thud thud* no man, i don't, but if i did - she'd regret it, the bitch let me down last night.. i've got customers who pay to see her every night, and she just skips turning up to work? That ain't good for business man.. she says she's gonna be here at 8, and then nada. Hey.. who is this anyway.. what you wanting to know all about my girls for, heh?"
"Just a friend, just calling to..."
"*thud thud thud* Lena don't got no friends, who the fuck is this? You that creep who's been hanging round here? Listen man, if I see you once more you freak, you aint' going to have the equipment to mess with yourself just thinking about my girls, yet alone anyone near them.. you hear me man?"
and the helpful customer support representative of the Pink Kitten slams down the phone.
Walking back to your whisky, you sit down and take a swig. A television over the bar starts to play the Friday nightime news, and a drunk falls off his chair in the corner of the room.
You're sitting in a bar, where you have a half drunk whisky, a wallet, mobile phone and severed finger.
suggests...The same build and height as the corpse? Do you remember what you look like? Perhaps the corpse-likeness goes beyond body, it may be worth checking a mirror if you don't remember, the corpse might be a little closer to you than you thought.
suggests...Go through the wallet, there may be some clues or a small indication who you are, what your name is, where to live, a donor card - anything in there.
suggests...You need to examine the finger again. Is it a woman's? Is it Lena's? Is she being held hostage somewhere? Is that what the mysterious voicemail was about?
#8. Talking to yourself
Thursday, September 22, 2005 You suddenly realise you've not yet worked out who you are. Sure, you know the basics - you're male, about the same height and build as dead guys in the back of a car, and currently on the run, but as far as name, age, parents, marital status - you're about as clued up as a 15 year old who thinks they have life experience."Hey, barkeep" you shout
The bartender just looks at you with a look which suggests barkeep wasn't an amusing and friendly term.
"Have you got a payphone in here?"
The bartender looks down at your hands, as you hold your mobile in your hand, and back up to your face, puzzled.
"Through the back next to the toilets" he throws back.
You wander over to the phone, pick up the receiver, go through your mobile menus until you reach 'My Numbers' where the mobile number is listed, and dial it in to the payphone. After a few short clicks, the mobile in your hand starts to vibrate, and you hit hangup. On the payphone, you are taken to your voicemail.
"I'm not here, you know what the beep is for" you hear yourself say.
"Dammit!"
You slam the receiver down, and wonder what to do next. Maybe the voicemail has a clue.
Holding down the number 1 key, it connects and begins to play your messages.
"You have 2 saved messages...
Message 1, sent yesterday at 2.32pm
'....crackle......not sure where you are......crackle.... can't find... bzzt.. might have more luck at.. ...bzzt... safety deposit box.... fssst... one two oh four oh.... the full amount... crackle... else lena ... crackle... Fold's Bank.. crackle.. breaking up'
end of message 1.
Message 2, sent yesterday at 7.49pm
'CLICK'
end of message 2.
end of your messages."
You hang up.
suggests...Apologies for the late post - out of the country today, and only just managed to get to an internet connection.
suggests...Lena has to be, or have, the answer, you've got no choice, find that Kitten Shack. (Also if you don't put that finger on ice soon it's gonna get stinky, perhaps your obliging 'barkeep' could help with that?)
suggests...The same build and height as the corpse? Do you remember what you look like? Perhaps the corpse-likeness goes beyond body, it may be worth checking a mirror if you don't remember, the corpse might be a little closer to you than you thought.
One other thing - dumping the car may not have been the best plan, when it could have contained myriad clues as to who the guys chasing you were, and what they wanted.
One other other thing - you're in the corpse's clothes. Did it have a wallet? Any kind of ID? Who did they kill, and is his name in your phone?
suggests...Comments closed for today's episode.
#7. A point in the right direction
Wednesday, September 21, 2005 You walk away from the car and body. It'll get found soon enough, and you don't want to be around when it does. Reaching once more into your pocket, you pull out the mobile phone and stare at it for a moment. First things first, store the number of the Pink Kitten. Any more dead bodies, severed fingers and gunshots, and you're unlikely to remember the number. You enter the digits and enter the name, hit 'Save Entry', but the phone responds "Overwrite 'Lena'?". There must already be an entry for that same number, but who is Lena?You keep on walking and stumble across a bar. A stiff drink would make things feel somewhat better right now, so you go into the place and order a whisky. Sitting against the bar, you pull out the phone once more and start flicking through the phonebook, which is mostly empty but for a few numbers:
Al's
Flat
Greg
Horses
Lena
Sat9pm
TomKaty
Voicemail
You knock back the whisky and order another.
You are sitting in a smoky bar. You have a whisky and mobile phone infront of you. You have a severed finger and wallet in your pocket.
suggests...I think you need to find out your own name. You can't exactly phone the Pink Kitten and ask for Lena; what do you say when they ask who's calling?
Get the mobile phone to tell you what its number is, then find a payphone and dial that number. Hopefully, when it switches to voicemail, you'll hear your own voice telling you your name.
Then try calling the voicemail from the mobile itself. If someone has left a message, they might say your name on it, and they might also have left some other clues.
suggests...I too think Slim's in the way to go, call yourself that's brilliant.
suggests...Suggestions now closed.
#6. A change is as good as a holiday.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005 You decide to slow the pace a little. If you're going to get picked up by police it will be due to erratic driving alerting the police to your presence, so you drop back into lane and chill out on your Duke brothers driving style.It gives you a little time to think, sitting in traffic. You realise that this car will probably soon be the target of a hunt, and decide it is best to ditch it. After driving for some 15 minutes, you come across a quieter section of the city, and roll into an alleyway, not too dissimilar to where all the trouble started, and pull over. You turn the ignition off, and sit staring forwards into the darkness for a little while - just trying to calm yourself.
Reaching into your pocket you pull out the package which you haven't yet had a chance to check, and slowly unravel the paper wadding. Your stomach clenches and you reveal yet another piece of the nightmare which is unfolding at each step you take. A finger, bloody at one end where severed from its owner, and pointing directly at your torso, almost accusatory in its position. The blood drains from your face, but relative to this evening's events so far, this is simply another in a long chain of questions raised.
You sigh, but as you inhale, you catch the putrid whiff of your clothing. If you're ever going to get to the bottom of this, you need to look half decent. A morbid thought passes through your mind, and you turn around to the cadaver behind you.
Moments pass and before you realise what you've done, the body is dressed in your dishevelled rags, and you're suited and booted.
You're standing in an alleyway beside a car with a body dressed in your old clothing. You are carrying your wallet, a severed finger and your mobile phone.
suggests...If you've got a wallet maybe you've got some money, see how much cash there is and if there's enough for a drink maybe find a bar, somewhere dark and ominous feeling and in a dodgy back street of course, so you can sit, think, review the events so far, check all your fingers are still there and see if there's anything handy in your mobile phone.
suggests...Ew! Can we go back in time and not look at the mystery package?
I reckon the Pink Kitten has some answers, and we've got lots of questions. TIme to give them a call.
suggests...Comments are now closed. New episode posted later today.
#5. The Long Drive.
Sunday, September 18, 2005 You slam your foot on the accelerator before even closing the door, which swings shut as the forward motion pushes you back into the seat. A deafening crack behind you sounds as the rear window explodes from a bullet passing through the glass and planting itself into the rear seat behind you.Flicking your head around involuntarily, you see the shattered glass strewn over the parcel shelf, leather seats and the dead man, tightly seat belted in. You turn back around and it isn't for a moment that you realise what you've seen, and check in your rear view mirror to confirm your fears.
"Oh crap" you mutter as you pull the car screeching out of the alley way on to a busier road, cutting through the traffic, dodging people crossing the road disregarding traffic lights. Not that you're upholding the safest mode of driving, but when a recently deceased is sitting just centimetres behind you and the goons, who no doubt put him in that state, just minutes behind you - road manners are not item number one on the menu.
You keep speeding forward not really sure where to go or what to do next, but you realise the first step is to get as far away from the trigger happy twins before you become the next bullet point on their list, figuratively and literally. However, swerving a stolen car with a smashed rear windscreen at these speeds is like neon to the police, and it won't be long until you're in their hands. Things are starting to get crazy, and you know that you're involved in some thing way over your head, but just don't have a clue as to what.
You're in a car driving south towards the city limits through busy streets. You have a dead body in the rear seat, and are conspicious. You have are carrying a wallet, mobile phone, mysterious package, and covered in stinking food waste. What do you do next?
suggests...The answers will lie with the contents of your pockets and don't forget the memory stirred by the Pink Kitten's poster, you should drive far away but then dump the car and continue on foot, not forgetting to wipe your prints from the car (oh yes I've watched CSI!)
suggests...Get the car into a dark alley where you can abandon it. Check the dead guy's pockets and the glove compartment for any interesting or useful items, then get the heck outta there.
suggests...Comments are now closed. Please check back soon for the next episode.
#4. The Great Escape.
Friday, September 16, 2005 Just a matter of feet above, you can hear the sound of the two men rattling up the fire escape, managing to traverse the missing rule which caused your quite literal downfall, and searching in vain for you. Turning your head, you look up and squint in the darkness to try and make out their movements, but all you can really take in is your malodourous bedding of burst refuse bags.Suddenly, a scream rings out - someone in the building no doubt shocked at seeing two burlies clambering around outside her window. Screaming and screaming, the lady keeps crying out as if the men were horrific fantasy creatures intent on eating her kidneys in a 80s sci-fi TV movie, but then strange "thwup" and the scream stops.
The lack of screaming brings you a little closer to lucidity, in time to hear another two "thwups". You've seen enough films to recognise the sound as a silenced gun of some sort, and usually a scream which ends in a "thwup" means the girl isn't going to ever scream again. The blood drains from your face. If this was the Wild West, he'd have three bullets left in there, but frankly you haven't a clue which side of the compass you're on, and have an inkling that modern magazines probably carry a few more than six.
Staying here waiting for two men who use somewhat heavy handed tactics to stop someone simply making a loud noise doesn't seem the most pleasant of options, so you start to pull yourself up and crawl towards the car. There's a chance that you can get in, and pull away before the men notice.
Pulling yourself through the garbage, you inch closer the car as quietly as possible, and see the door open, the car left humming. Suddenly footsteps on the metal above signify movement of your gun weilding friends, and you throw caution to the wind and throw yourself into the driver's seat.
You are in a car facing South. The engine is running. Two gunmen are on the fire escape above you, standing near a dead woman. You are carrying the mobile phone, wallet and a package of unknown content. You momentarily pause to consider your next action.
suggests...Drive drive drive, get out of there and somewhere safe to examine the ever mysterious contents of your pockets.
suggests...Floor it! Drive like Minnie Driver at a driving range whilst listening to 'Drive' by The Cars.
Then pull over (when it is safe to do so) and open the package, open the package OPEN THE PACKAGE! Please.
suggests...First, check there's nobody in the back seat.
Second, see if there's a gun in the glove compartment. If so, shoot the goons with it. If not, examine the unknown package.
suggests...Comments are closed on this episode now. Sorry for the delay in getting the next episode up, but I think weekends are probably non episode days. I'll try and write a 'cliffhanger' for Fridays to make things more interesting.
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#3. A fall from grace.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005 The lights' vehicle continue to bear down on you and as the source of the light starts drawing nearer and nearer, your gut tells you you're in danger. Grasping the package, you stumble over your own feet and fall fowards, your heart skipping a beat and you pull yourself back up and scramble towards the fire escape ladder.Its a few feet above your head and and you jump up and reach for the bottom rung, a cat startles from the approaching car and runs across in front of you. You jump up again and grab the ladder, your weight pulling it down as you try and climb up, as if you're moving nowhere.
The ladder moves faster downwards than you do up, and you crash on the floor landing on your knees. The jarring crunch of your bones into the tarmac shakes you through, but you're running on adrenaline, and the potentially rational fear of the car still rolling towards your escape route propels you up the wrought iron steps.
Hand over hand over hand over hand, your legs don't seem to be able to keep pace with how fast you're scrabbling upwards, but your mind doesn't seem to care, and you pull yourself upwards. You've no doubt that whoever is driving the car saw you dive for the fire escape, but thinking clearly isn't something you're trying to do right now, and you just know deep within you that up is the only way on.
Hand over hand over hand over air... you hesitate, usually the cold feel of the ladder's rung would be pressing into your palm as you climbed, but you realise you've swiped and grabbed hold of nothing - toppling forwards in the process. Bending double over the ladder you inadvertantly kick with your feet as they are still carrying up and onwards, but it has the effect of simply propelling you forwards through the gap were the rung should have been and you fall further forwards until your centre of gravity is past the point of no return, leaving gravity itself to pull you back down to the road below. You don't have a moment's thought to realise you're dropping before hitting a sack of bin bags filled with food and household waste which burst underneath your weight, but don't provide enough padding to completely break your fall, and you wheeze as the wind is knocked out of you.
You lie staring face upwards, wedged between the wall and the wheely bin, half covered in rubbish, half unconscious. You're just aware enough to sense the car pulling up beside you, two men get out and start to climb the ladder.
"They're climbing the ladder. Christ, they're climbing the ladder, they can't have seen me fall" your mind screams, but your body isn't in any state to respond. You lie perfectly still, unable to do little else.
You are lying behind a wheelie bin, under cover of darkness. Two men are directly above you looking around. A car sits with its engine running next to you. Whilst you wait for your body to come back to use, your mind starts to plot the next step.
suggests...Steal the car.
suggests...Stay exactly where you are and watch the movements of those around you trying to glean more information about who you are, who they are and why they're trying to get you.
suggests...Walk towards the car, check out their reaction. If they go nutzoid, jump in, start the car and run them over. I know it seems extreme, but two people together screams hitmen. And you ain't going out like that. No way, g.
suggests...As you lie there in the refuse, nausea steadily mounts. The smell of rancid meat, mere inches from your face, is making your head swim, but you struggle to remain silent.
Next to you the car purrs quietly, while the men climbing the ladder breathe heavily as they ascend. You're tempted to steal it if you can get a chance, the thought of escape from them is the only thing stopping you from vomiting due to the smell. The problem is, is the car empty? Were those two men the only occupants?
Ruby's mum suggests...Just within arms reach you spot a half filled can of Tennants Extra. You stretch for it, without disturbing any of the rubbish, grab the can, open it up and take an almighty swig. Whatever they might do to you now, at least it won't hurt as much.
webponce suggests...Comments are now closed (a little later than usual). Next episode coming shortly.
#2. The Pink Kitten.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005 After less than a few moments passing, you take another cursary glance at the poster. Something arouses within you. Not within your pants, but something a little deeper - almost like a memory being evoked from the dark but as yet unavailable recesses of your mind.You walk over to the poster and take a closer look. "Pink Kittens".
Hmm.. you think.. it is ringing a bell, but nothing so loud that you'd remember any of the kittens themselves.
You look at the girl on the poster. If anyone were watching, a dirt stained vagrant standing infront of a lifesize picture of a half naked girl, they'd probably think nothing of it - Pink Kittens was one of the city's most popular clubs, so the poster says, and the girl is certainly high class, not the sort of lady you'd have the chance to meet in your current state, and probably not the sort of girl who'd grace such an establishment either, but it worked for the advertisers, and it works for you.
You scan the rest of the detail of the poster. A phone number, an address and the name of the company who owned the Pink Kitten. Not sure whether the Kittens mean anything to you yet, you pull out your mobile to keep the number for later, but as you fumble around in your coat pocket to reach at the phone and pull it out, the other package falls out and lands with a squelch on the pavement beside you, and unrolls a little. As you stoop down to pick up the package, a noise startles you from behind, the rumble of a car engine revving at the end of the alley leading to the clearing from the North. You look up from your hunched position, and see the headlights flicker on, illuminating your surroundings clearly, but half blinding you in the process. You grasp at the package, and consider your options.
The clearing has exits N,S,W, and the fire escape leading upwards. You are carrying the mobile phone, wallet and unknown package. You're desperatly trying to remember the details you saw on the poster, whilst waiting for your mind to suggest the next move.
suggests...Examine the unknown package.
It's either that or go up the fire escape to avoid the car, but (a) I'd really like to know what the package is and ensure it doesn't get left behind and/or run over, and (b) it's unlikely that the protagonist will get killed this early in the story, so I'm willing to risk a bit of danger.
suggests...Get yourself into a safer location to fully examine the package and check the mobile phone for any 'useful in emergency situation' numbers, which could be very handy. Go up the ladder.
webponce suggests...Comments are now closed for this episode.
#1. You are standing in a clearing.
You are standing in a clearing.I say clearing, it hasn't been cleaned nor clear for years. There are empty soup cans, coke cans, french moulin rouge dancers and south american birds, six letters, begins with T, lying strewn around, and berlinner sized newspapers flit around in the light southwesterly breeze, which also carries with it the heady odour of cat piss.
You can hear a radio playing what some would call music, and somewhere a TV has been left on casting the blueish glow of night time programming on the building opposite.
You stand facing a wheely bin infront of a poster for a "gentlemans' entertainment venue", peeling at the edges, and showcasing a girl who probably never was, nor never shall be an exotic dancer, but you purr at the thought of it anyway.
The clearing has exits running N,S,W and one of those american fire exit ladders which you only see in films, and you feel looks strangely out of place here, but oddly compelling. You pad down your pockets, and can feel your wallet, a mobile phone, some keys and a package of which you're not sure of its contents.
The only thing you can remember about arriving here is the phrase "A SIXTH TEEPEE, NORM!", which you immediatly recognise as an anagram - but frankly can't be bothered to solve.
You stand awaiting your mind's next suggestion to act upon.
suggests...Drink tea
suggests...More closely examine the contents of your pockets discovering what the unknown package contains
Ruby's mum suggests...Phone a friend
suggests...Take your mobile phone out and check the messages in it in an attempt to identify who you are and what you're doing there. If that doesn't help, try looking in the recent call logs.
suggests...A sixth teepee Norm = Examine the poster
suggests...Comments are closed now. Please check back for the next part of the adventure tommorow.
Firstly you have to take the contents and get outta there in case somebody's hot on your tail. I'd find somewhere safe (and perhaps ominously dark and errie) to take a closer look at the photos and map but I would start by putting the sim card into your phone and checking out what's on it - maybe another message leading you onto your next puzzle?
I think next time take the money rather than open the box!
Seeing as you've done that, examine the items to discover what they're a picture of and what the newspaper article is about.
I can't do any better than these two excellent suggestions which precede mine. Get out of the bank, and then settle down for a nice read. Perhaps a cup of tea too.