whenever you're ready

You stand at the door for Dimes. [[Enter|enter]] (set: $askedJob to false) (set: $hasKey to false) (set: $application to false)

Composing [[yourself]], you take stock of the situation. It is [[today]]. You approach the [[bar]].

Your name is Hobby Bubard. You are a 32-year-old software engineer at a cryptocurrency exchange called Protein Monster. You live in New York City, where you own a condo downtown after a recent windfall from selling your startup, a dating app that only allows men over 6'0". [[You are indifferent about being alive.|enter]]

Here are the guys: Doug, Bug, and Cooter. They are dear friends. You would trust each of them with your life. [[Talk to Doug|doug]] [[Talk to Bug|bug]] [[Talk to Cooter|cooter]] [[Return to bar|bar]]

[[Well, it's just another Saturday night.|enter]]

"Today I buried my grandmother. Her name was Eliza. Every Sunday we would go to the Pancake Palace, and get a big stack of pancakes. You ever see a Bigfoot?" [[Yes.|bigfoot]] [[No.|bigfoot]]

"Almost everyone will agree that we live in a deeply troubled society. One of the most widespread manifestations of the craziness of our world is leftism, so a discussion of the psychology of leftism can serve as an introduction to the discussion of the problems of modern society in general." [[OK|regulars]]

"Howdy fella! How's your day goin'?" [[Oh, you know - it's going.|going]] [[I've been better.|better]] [[Not well.|well]]

"Right on." [[...|regulars]]

"Thanks!" [[OK|regulars]]

"Sorry that you're going through that. Check this out!" <img src="https://protein.monster/folio/puppy.jpeg"> [[Wow|regulars]]

//"You will die of dehydration on February 20, 2063."// [[OK|regulars]]

There's no denying it: this place is a real shithole. Unsavory characters mill about. A [[trough]] of mysterious liquid sits in the corner. At the bar are the [[regulars]], and the [[bartender]]. In the back, a [[door]].

Gerald the bartender is busy wiping down the bar with a wet rag, when he registers you approaching. He looks up, and the slightest of grimaces forms for just a second. He is disappointed to see you again. "Hey Hobby. What'll it be?" [[Jim Beam double neat|bottle]] [[Water, please|bottle]] (if: $sawDoor is true)[[[Can I work here?|work]]]

(if: $askedJob)[OK, if you insist. Here's a ground-level trough about two feet wide and two inches deep. There's a layer of liquid that's clearish and brownish, with a soapy chromatic sheen on the surface. It is surprisingly odorless, but even looking at it gives you goosebumps. [[Reach in|reach]]](else:)[No, we're not looking at this. ] [[Return|bar]]

"Here kid, take the whole bottle." [[Thanks|bar]]

A regular-looking door with a sign that says: "STAFF ONLY". A knob with a triangular-shaped keyhole below it. Gerald the bartender bellows: "Hey kid, that door is only for employees. If you want to enter, you'll have to work here." [[OK|bar]] (if: $hasKey)[[[Use key|dream]]] (set: $sawDoor to true)

"Sure, kid. All you have to do is fill out a job application. There's one lying around here, but I'm not sure where I put it..." (if: $application)[[[Here it is|apply]]] (else:)[[[OK|bar]]] (set: $askedJob to true)

Really? [[Yes|paper]] [[No|bar]]

Fine. This liquid is slightly more viscous than you'd like it to be. Feeling around in the bottom, you touch what feels like slip of paper... [[Pull it out|pull]] [[That's enough|bar]]

You pull out the paper and let some of the stuff drip off of it. Upon closer inspection, this is a job application for the bar. [[Fill it out|fill]] [[No thanks|bar]]

Name <input type="text"> Date of Birth <input type="text"> Current Occupation <input type="text"> Gender <input type="text"> Race <input type="text"> Sexual Orientation <input type="text"> Why do you want to work here? <input type="text"> Are you who you say you are? <input type="text"> Do you have a secret you are afraid I'll find out? <input type="text"> Is this a form of punishment? <input type="text"> [[Done|done]]

You take your wet job application and head back to the [[bar|bar]]. (set: $application to true)

You hand Gerald the soggy application. "Lets see... everything seems to be in order. You're hired, kid. Here's your key to the staff room." He places on the bar an unusual blue key - in the place of the typical notched blade is a triangular prism with some dots on the side. "First shift is tomorrow at 11AM." [[Thanks|bar]] (set: $hasKey to true)

You insert the key into the notch. Before you can turn the knob, your vision starts to blur. It feels like some imperceptible thing has come loose, or like the world is becoming unstable... [[Wake up|wake]]

It's the crack of dawn. You sit up and begin to regain your bearings. Here you are, set up at camp in the Oregon wilderness. You are a Bigfoot tracker named Gerald Bean. [[Eat rations|rations]] [[Check map|map]] [[Track Bigfoot|track]]

Delicious rations. [[Finish|wake]]

Hearing the snap of a twig just beyond the brush nearby your camp, you leap into action. Approaching the sound now, you happen upon a trail of large, foot-shaped prints on the ground. [[Oh yeah|cave]]

Silently, you spend an hour follow the maze of prints through the trees, around a swamp, and finally up to the mouth of a cave. [[Enter cave|hollow]]

Despite your expertise at tracking Bigfoots, you are a terrible navigator. You lost your position on this thing weeks ago. [[Dang it|wake]]

Entering the hollow, you hear heavy breathing from a distance. Approaching the breathing you finally catch a glimpse: here, sleeping, is an enormous hairy creature. [[Jackpot|jackpot]]

In the trickle of light that's reaching here from the mouth of the cave, you can make out some features. This thing must be around eight feet tall, and has a huge pig-like snout for a nose. Searching around you see the glint of something in it's hand. Is that some kind of... blue key? It also has a ten inch shlong. [[Reach for key|darkness]] [[Reach for the other thing|okay]]

Suddenly, darkness. A flurry of disconnected images in your vision. Two tiny old people run out of a shoe, hands waving. The vast ocean. An even tinier man does a little dance. Your birth, and your death. Who are you again? [[Struggle|struggle]]

Are you... sure? [[Yes|darkness]]

You stuggle in the only place you can feel: the back of your neck. It's vibrating now. Are you reaching for consciousness? [[Wake up|end]]

Not yet. (link: "When will it end?")[(goto-url:"https://protein.monster/liminal")]