Let's Play: Violet

ABOUT

All you have to do is write a thousand words

a thousand words

The fuck did I win?

Look

I am confused.

OPEN DRAWER

UNDO!!! UNDOOOOO!!!

Seriously though, how about we realize we’re not actually going to write anything without some motivation and
EXAMINE CABINET.

Hmm- no one’s starring anything, so does anyone have an opinion on how to select what happens next? (Otherwise, I guess I could run all the commands from oldest to newest).

>Write
You're standing.  You've been pacing most of the morning, stewing about our fight last night.

I don't myself see why one can't type just as easily standing up as sitting down, but you are adamant that you can only focus enough to write seriously if you are seated.

>open drawer
You open the drawer and there's a shiny little key and your notebook.

Although you write on your computer, you still like to keep a pen and notebook handy because it sometimes helps to work out more complicated sentences in longhand before typing them in.  You've several pens in your bag.

Hey, budgie: where's your bag?

>EXAMINE CABINET
It's University Drab, about a metre high with a silly fake wood front.  It's closed and locked.

On top of the cabinet is the opposite of drab: a spectacularly intricate origami trophy.

Ugh.  You were so distracted this morning that you left your bag back at our apartment.  I am a gentle girlfriend and will refrain from marvelling at how it's past noon and you are only realising this now.

You cannot go get your bag.  You know you are doomed to an afternoon of meandering distraction if you leave this office.

You guys really don’t want to check starting inventory? Thats like the first thing to do in any adventure game.

MAKE COFFEE

Okay, as per @joelmw’s suggestion last night, we’ll use @starblind’s method: all commands will go in these response threads, and star your choice(s).
How long do you want this to go on for? Running one or two commands a day will extend the game a fair amount, and three or more will likely shorten the playthrough time.
Tonight, I’ll do the top 3 choices by votes from earlier; in the event of a tie, I’ll go with the earliest one. If you’d like this changed, speak up.

examine me
You look tired, which is understandable given the length of our "discussion" last night.

You're carrying nothing.

You've a tattoo on the back of your hand.

>make coffee
I didn't understand that sentence.

(Sorry @joelmw !)

>get key
Yours, wallaroo.

Somebody is coming up the stairs.  I thought you said no one ever comes in on the weekend?

Let’s continue on.
@KDemo, @Starblind, and @JazzyJosh submitted commands this time.

    >open cabinet with key
You unlock the cabinet.

(for @joelmw)

>examine tattoo
"Tattoo" isn't right.  You scrawled "TYVTWD" on the back of your hand before leaving this morning.  It stands for Take Your Violet To Work Day.  This is your plan: you are going to get through today by pretending I'm here with you.

Just so we're clear: you are actually alone, and presumably I am back at our apartment, packing and crying.


>sit
Okay.  You are seated at your desk and ready to go.  Just write!

Two voices in the hallway: a man and Julia.  Julia hasn't been in her office in weeks.  She shows up on a Saturday?


>write
Unfortunately, with all the pacing about and ruminating, you've been here over two hours but haven't actually opened your word processor yet.

I also saved the game.
Hope you are enjoying this so far!

Here we go!
(Thanks @KDemo & @brhfl!)
Let’s examine that cabinet and maybe find out something about Julia and the guy with her.

>inspect cabinet
You're going to have to use a different verb for me to understand what you mean.

>inspect contents of cabinet
Sorry for being confused, dundeecake, but you're going to have to use a different verb for me to follow you.

Even when you get things wrong, you get a nice description.

>open cabinet
Last night, near the very end:
"I want you to have your birthday present regardless."
"Violet, I'll write the thousand words."
"I planned a treasure hunt for you.  I wrote clues!  It was going to end in your office."
"I am going to write tomorrow.  I promise."
"Look in that cabinet you never use.  You'll like how I wrapped it."

(standing up first)
You open the cabinet, revealing a very odd balloon and a plastic bottle filled with a fluorescent pink liquid.

The trophy!

>examine trophy
You trained for months and had to run the entire race in the rain.  A chintzy little medal after all that?  You deserve better!  So afterwards I took the big sign I'd held up for you and spent two days folding it into a proper trophy.

>listen
Julia and someone else.  This cannot be good.

Maybe open the door so we can see who the mystery guy is?

>open door
That's what Julia wants you to do.  You go outside, and the two of you will have some long argument that's a combination of her fighting and throwing herself at you.  Then you sit here the rest of the afternoon stewing and unable to focus enough to write.  You have to ignore her.

Julia is here to sabotage you.  I'm sure of it.  She's in her office across the hall now, talking loudly with her door open.

Thanks @KDemo & @brhfl for sticking around.

(Browser crash from earlier, so I examined the cabinet).

The dude with Julia sounds like the one she was flirting with at Lucy's party.  Remember?  He was scrawny and said his parents owned a hotel in Milwaukee called "The Historic Pfister."

Let’s check that balloon!
>examine balloon
It’s about 25 centimetres across, milky white rubber decorated with purple ink swirls. A strange furry thing is inside, its three long legs pressing against the sides. At the bottom of the balloon is a bright yellow tab on which I’ve written “Pull me!”

What could the bottle be?
>examine bottle
The bottle is dusty. Is this even yours, or is it left over from Marty?

The label has several large characters of what looks like a cross of Chinese, Cyrillic, and cuneiform.  Small type beneath says  "Divine Soda Mega Energy". The label also has a drawing of a devil poking a man in the [bother]* with an electrified pitchfork.  The man's eyes bulge and his mouth rounds into a scream.

The bottle is filled with a fluorescent pink liquid.

(BTW: I've decided I'm just going to "*" whenever I have an aside. ASIDE or * and I'll tell you.)

Making a change here- I’ll run any ideas you two have when I’m here at night, and all of your ideas from the daytime or overnight (unless you want to continue at the current pace).

Sorry for the delay- let’s get to all your commands and see what happens.

First, checking our inventory (which I swore we did before, but doesn’t hurt to remind ourselves):

>inventory
You're carrying a rubber square, the platyPod and a shiny little key. In the rubber square's "pouch" is a small chip.

Changing our perspective here:

>female
Welcome to the sisterhood.  Of course, this makes citizenship questions more complicated if we end up deciding to get married.

Let’s charge up the platyPod:

>Charge platypod
You plug in the platyPod.  It will beep when it is fully charged.

You look out the window for a moment, at the wonderfully serene park across the street.  We could be frolicking right now.  We could be canoodling in the shrubbery.  Please just write.

Doesn’t look promising for actually using the platyPod yet, so we’ll wait a bit.

Let’s try writing a bit.

>write
(first sitting on chair)
You need to open your word processor if you are going to write.

Finally, that catcus does deserve a look, so let’s examine it.

>examine cactus
(standing up first)
Supposedly the cactus belonged to a business school professor who left Madison for another university in a snit.  An accidental transposition of numbers on a form caused it to be moved in here instead of University Botanical Disposal, and your department won't pay to move it again so it's been here for years.

Obtrusive, sure, but at least it hides that ugly pipe leading up to the sprinkler on your wall.  Plus plants are cheery.  I'm glad the pot is too heavy for you to be able to move it yourself.

Thanks @KDemo & @brhfl for sticking around, and @FruityFraug for piping up!

A fair amount of things happening this time.

Let’s try writing again.

>open word processor
Open.  Chapter 3 of your dissertation awaits.  You can do it!

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP!  The platyPod is fully charged.  You retrieve it and return to what you were doing.

Oooh! The Platypod is ready- we can finally try to play it!

>scrunch your brow
You furrow your brow.  Nothing happens.  I think maybe you have to be wearing the platyPod for it to work.

>wear platypod
The platyPod fits nicely in your ears and against your forehead.  It is switched off.

You are distracted by Julia laughing inauthentically and telling Historic Pfister "You are so clever."

>scrunch brow
My voice: "Look, it even lets you record a start-up message!  How the platyPod works: You cycle through the different playlists by RAISING your left or right eyebrow.   NOD to skip to the next track.  JIGGLE your head clockwise to turn the volume up, and jiggle it anticlockwise to turn it down."

The platyPod turns on.  A mechanical Aussie voice announces, "Now playing 'MC Dingo: Straight Outta Down Under'" You groan, because you are like every other parochial American who refuses to give Australian hip-hop a proper chance.

The volume is low.  You can still sometimes hear Julia and Historic Pfister across the hall.

Let’s try to write.

>write
(first sitting on chair)
You start thinking again about the first sentence.  "Previous scholarship has typically conceptualized..."  Six seconds later you check your e-mail.  You switch back to your word processor for a bit, but then you start reading some blogs.  You check your e-mail again.  Then back to blogs.

I suspect this is much of how the past several months in your office have gone.

EXAMINE BOOK
EXAMINE SNOW GLOBE
Continue to ignore Julia and her sneeze-inducing aroma cloud.
Oh, also EXAMINE CHIP in rubber pouch. Is it chocolate? Potato? Paint? Probably electronic.

SIT on chair, FOCUS on writing.

And we’re back!.
Examining all the things here:

>examine book
(standing up first)
This is the latest "last book you really must read before you are able to write your dissertation without a nagging feeling that there is one more book you really must read."  If you start reading it now, hours will go by, and you won't write your thousand words.

MC Dingo boasts of his sexual prowess over a sample of "Waltzing Matilda."

>examine snowglobe
It's a glass globe with a plain wooden bottom.  Inside is a happy winter scene, with a paunchy, smiling figurine in a white outfit and snow up to his ankles.  His hands look like they are covered with chocolate.

>examine chip
You can't get a good look at the chip while it's still in the pouch.

>take chip from pouch
Yours, muttonplum.

(The rubber is really strong and stretchy for how thin it is, isn't it?  I got it from a company that makes weapons-grade slingshots.)

You look toward the door: the perfume again.  I agree that it's really appealing.  But, still, this is Julia!*

(Just a note, the * means Violet has an ASIDE about the starred item if you’d like her to tell it).

>examine chip
It's like one of those chips in a musical greeting card, with a tiny plum-coloured "V." painted on it.  When you squeeze it you hear me shout "Happy birthday!" and then a cheery kazoo toot.

GIVE TEA TO VIOLET

We find out a bit about how we and Violet met, and a bit about Julia (that you totally saw coming) in one of the asides (it looks like we missed the very first aside, so speak up if you want to see them when they show up).
Also, we try @EarlGrey’s suggestion of tea.

>aside
Remember when you first asked me out?  I said, "You already have a girlfriend."
"I wouldn't if I had known I was going to meet you."
"How charming.  Will you say the same thing to the woman you dump me for?"
"Julia and I aren't serious.  She doesn't even care about me.  I'm the respectable diversion after the mess with the emeritus history professor leaving her husband.  The only reason she'd be upset is she's proud of her streak where no one has ever broken up with her."

>aside
Of course I always adore your eagerness to hear my asides, but I already told you the last one.

>give tea to violet
I don't see what you are talking about.

Violet confronts Julia

Really sorry I haven’t gotten back to you all sooner!
Let’s look at some things, and then try to talk to Julia to get rid of her.
If you’d like some general hints here, I can tell you a little as I have played this before.

>examine pouch
The rubber square's "pouch" is empty.

>examine stool
(standing up first)
Remember?  Me, looking triumphant as I haul the flimsy stool into our apartment:
"Look what I found in the dumpster!  Just what you need!"
"Do you think it will collapse if I stand on it?"
"Not immediately.  Just be careful."
"I can't believe the secretary said I was 'undeserving' when I asked if I could have a stool."
"This stool is better, anyway.  Maybe I'll paint it!"

You are thinking about your bag.  Sure, it's unfortunate, but there's nothing you can do.  So just forget about it.

>look under desk
Underneath your desk you see the amethyst-encrusted Sword Of Dissertator Melancholia.

>open door
That's what Julia wants you to do.  You go outside, and the two of you will have some long argument that's a combination of her fighting and throwing herself at you.  Then you sit here the rest of the afternoon stewing and unable to focus enough to write.  You have to ignore her.

@brhfl had a great idea to get the cable away from us:

>get cable
Done, weet-bix.  You're now holding the ethernet cable.

>put cable on bookshelf
The bookcase is too tall for you to put anything on top of it unless you are standing on the stool.

>stand on stool
(standing up first)
The stool creaks as you climb onto it.

MC Dingo tells how he once convinced a Yank that turntables spin anticlockwise south of the equator.

>put cable on bookshelf
I don't see the point.  The cable is so long and unwieldy that you can't really put it up there without part of it dangling over the side.  So it'll be easy to retrieve from here, or you could even jump up and get it if you needed to.

Sadly, it didn’t work out the way we hoped it would.
I think you’re onto something though.

I have tried all of your commands, and some of them turned out funny. Thanks @KDemo & @FroodyFrog!
Added a couple of minor things here as well.

>use stool to break window
I only understood you as far as wanting to use the charming stool.

>break window
(first getting off the stool)
It's hard for me to see what purpose breaking your window would serve.  More importantly, someone would almost certainly see and call campus security, and that will introduce new hassles to your afternoon and prevent you from getting any writing done.

>order zom-b-gone
You're going to have to use a different verb for me to understand what you mean.

>throw cable out window
None of the graduate student offices in this building have windows that open.

>bury cable in pot
You're going to have to use a different verb for me to understand what you mean.

>put cable in pot
I'm not sure if you're serious.  Anyway, the cactus is plenty for the pot.

MC Dingo wants you to know the woman he was with last night was hotter than January.

>hint
[more hints available] You have to put the cable where you can't get to it.

>look cabinet
I only understood you as far as wanting to look.

>examine cabinet
In the cabinet is an empty plastic bottle.

On top of the cabinet is a fabulously intricate origami trophy.

>get bottle
Yours, fruit cup.

@KDemo had a brilliant idea which I tried out.

>put cable in cabinet
You put the blue ethernet cable into the cabinet.

Your eyes go all dreamy again as the latest waft of Julia's perfume induces another galling little reverie.  Ugh.  You have to snap out of this.

>lock cabinet
You close the cabinet and lock it.  Clever little wallaroo.

>swallow key
It looks so easy in movies!   You put it in your mouth and will yourself to swallow hard.  But when the key is at the top of your throat, some primordial terror reflex kicks in and you cough the key back into your hand.

So close everyone!

>unlock cabinet
You unlock the cabinet.

You're looking out the window again.  A second zombie enters the park from the east, holding a sign.  The first zombie looks relieved.

>examine cabinet
It's University Drab, about a metre high with a silly fake wood front.  It's closed.

On top of the cabinet is still a spectacularly intricate origami trophy.

>open cabinet
You open the cabinet, revealing a blue ethernet cable.

>examine cabinet
In the cabinet is a blue ethernet cable.

On top of the cabinet is a fabulously intricate origami trophy.

You are thinking about your bag again.  "Why am I always so forgetful?" you say aloud.  "Why am always I so disorganized?"  Budgie, dwelling on it won't help. "I know!" you exclaim.  "Why do I always dwell on everything?"

>lock cabinet
You close the cabinet and lock it. 

>put key on cabinet
Okay, spongemuffin.  Note that the cabinet isn't especially tall, so putting the key on top of the cabinet doesn't put it out of reach.

>break stool
Why would you do that?  Besides my having painted the stool so lovely for you, you wouldn't be able to get to anything on top of the bookcase anymore.

A member of MC Dingo's posse assures you it's a good thing he's stuck in Perth with no money, as otherwise he would fly over here and kick your wowser arse.

Good job everyone! (Especially @KDemo!)
@brhfl @mikibell @FroodyFrog

>stand on stool
The stool creaks again as you climb onto it.

>put key atop bookcase
I didn't understand that sentence.

>put key on bookcase
(first retrieving the key)
Curious, mintchip.  Done.

You're looking out the window again.  The sign held by the zombie says "Zombies Was People Too".  Another pair of people dressed up as zombies enter the park.  One holds a sign saying "Undead and Proud!"

>smash stool
(first getting off the stool)
Gently, but irreparably, you break the stool.

Ugh.  I know it was practically broken already, but I loved that stool.  I realise you are desperate because you don't want me to leave.  You can do this.  I am cheering for you.

>write
(first sitting on chair)
You try again.  Within a few seconds you start wondering what the fear of writing is called.  Scribophobia?  Graphophobia?  You go to look it up online.  You can't.  You itch to check your e-mail.  You can't.

So you start thinking about Chapter 3 again.  Woo-woo!   The train of ideas is finally pulling into keyboard station.  I can see the first sentence now.

But the music is so loud that it spoils your concentration and everything derails.  Ugh.  It's like trying to write while sitting next to the amps at a hip-hop concert.   I didn't think I could possibly hate Julia any worse than after she posted my cell phone # on those marsupial fetish listservs.  You cannot let her win.

Let’s keep going.

>jiggle head anticlockwise
You move your head in adorable little anticlockwise circles. The volume is not loud.  You can still sometimes hear Julia and Historic Pfister across the hall.  (Hopefully the platyPod 2.0 will allow more precise volume control.)

MC Dingo asserts he's "got more rhymes / Than an echidna's got spines."

>examine window
(standing up first)
Your window is immediately behind your desk, about two metres high and one wide.  It has an old grey blind, which is raised.

On the sill I am a bit surprised to see a lighter.

You look out the window.  There are maybe a dozen zombies in the park now, lurching and milling about.  Two unfurl a blood-spattered banner that says, "What do we want?  Brains!  When do we want them?  Brains!"

>write
(first sitting on chair)
You're ready to write.  Except now you are looking at the door.  True, you can still sometimes hear Julia and Historic Pfister across the hall.  The noise not loud enough as to normally be a distraction, but I can understand that your ex-girlfriend and some dork hooking up is not "normally."

Thanks so much for your continued interest in this folks!
I’m glad to be sharing this with you (including our name changing amphibian).
Some of your suggestions turned out really well- we got the lighter, and as you’ll see, there’s a pretty clear idea on what to do with the window blinds.
I also went ahead and had Violet tell us another aside.
Please enjoy!

>inventory
You're carrying a stupendously intricate origami trophy, an empty plastic bottle, a small chip and a rubber square, and you're wearing the platyPod.

>lower blind
You pull the cord and nothing happens.  You complained to me about this weeks ago and I explained what the problem likely was and how to fix it.  Remember?

You're looking out the window again.  A wood-panelled van pulls up on the street in front of the park.  "Wood-panelled" doesn't perhaps describe it right, as it's more like someone put wood veneer around the entire frame of the van, to make it look like a ship or something.

>pull blinds
(presuming you want to pull the cord)
You pull the cord again and nothing happens.  I think you'll have to get on your desk and look at the blind to figure out what's wrong.

>look at blind
I wish the blind was more colourful.  It's raised.  There's a cord.

I don't think you're going to be able to figure out what the problem is with the blind from down here.  You'll have to get onto the desk.

You are distracted by Julia saying especially loudly "...You could use mine to calculate pi..."*

>*
Remember the story about how when Julia was in college, she told two math guys she'd hook up with whichever one memorised pi to the most places?  She made them stand on chairs at a party, alternating digits until one of them missed.  She claims it went on for two hours.

Then she didn't even go home with the winner!  Instead there was a Russian computer scientist who claimed he could spontaneously generate truly random digits.  She said, "Prove it!"  He said, "Four!"  And she swooned and pulled him into a bathroom.

I cannot believe she told you that story and you continued dating her.

>get lighter
Yours, sticky pudding.  It's hard for me to be enthusiastic about lighters as a woman who owns her own blowtorch.

Let’s finally tackle those silly blinds!

>burn blinds
If it was a paper blind, that would be completely awesome, even as it would end any hope of you getting any writing done and so also our relationship.  It's plastic, though.

You are thinking about your bag again.  Honestly, you probably don't even really need a pen, except now you're obsessing about how you'd have a pen if only you hadn't forgotten your bag.

>stand on desk
You climb onto your desk.  Be careful, chocolate crackle.

>pull blinds
(presuming you want to pull the cord)
You pull the cord again and nothing happens.  You're going to have to look at the blind to see what's wrong.

MC Dingo declares "I'm not braggin' but I been to bed / With every Brisbane girl from a to zed."

>look at blinds
You can see what's wrong with the blind now.  The little whatever is stuck.*  This is easy: you can just FIX it.

>*
Actual-Me of course knows precisely what the whatever is called.  I used the right term when I explained the workings of your blind to you at length on that napkin at WinkyDog.  Imaginary-Me is using "whatever" because you don't remember.

>fix blinds
You squint at the whatever for awhile and fiddle.  Squint, fiddle, still stuck.  I think when I said you could easily fix it what I really meant was that, if I were there, I could easily fix it.

Squint, fiddle, SNAP.  You did it!  Or, wait, maybe you broke it.

Looking closer, you've definitely broken the whatever.  Perhaps you've also fixed it.  I can't tell.

You look over at the book and fret.  Lorikeet, you've had the book for at least two weeks, and it's only today, when you really must write, that you start feeling it's urgent for you to read.

>write
(first sitting on chair)
(getting off the desk first)
You can still sometimes hear Julia and Historic Pfister.  You are not going to write as long as there's any noise across the hall that you can hear.

>hint
[more hints available] The rubber square tells you how to turn the platyPod on.

>hint
After you WEAR THE PLATYPOD and SCRUNCH YOUR BROW, you'll get instructions on how to turn up the volume (JIGGLE HEAD CLOCKWISE).

Ooops! I accidentally tripped a bad ending. Don’t worry, we can undo it.

>jiggle head counterclockwise
You move your head in endearing little anticlockwise circles. The volume is not loud.  You can still sometimes hear Julia and Historic Pfister across the hall.

>scrunch brow
The platyPod bleats once and turns off.

You are distracted by Julia going on loudly about how you get a discount if you get both tongue piercings at the same time.

>get book
(getting off the desk first)
Why did you pick up the book?  If you start reading it, you won't stop, and holding it in your hands is just going to make you want to read it even more.

>tear page from book
I'm not sure what that would accomplish, cuttlefish.

I see the way you are looking down at the book.  You want to read it.  You need to resist.

>put book in front of door
Putting things on your door would achieve nothing.

You fiddle with the cover of the book.  You're thinking that you could just read the Table of Contents.  And maybe the Acknowledgements.

>block window with book
(putting the book on the sill)
Are you trying to block the distraction from outside?  The book isn't nearly large enough for that.

You lightly caress the book's cover.  You are titillated by the possibility of it having separate indices for authors and topics.

>i
You're carrying a book, a lighter, a stupendously intricate origami trophy, an empty plastic bottle, a small chip and a rubber square, and you're wearing the platyPod.

Your index finger strokes the a particularly ecstatic blurb on the book's lower back.  You bite your lip.  This is weird.

>put trophy in window
That isn't a container, chunky rabbit.  Unless I'm misunderstanding what you are trying to do.

You run the back of your hand along the book's spine.   If you don't get the book out of your hands, you will give in and start reading.

>break spine
I don't see what you are talking about.

>rip book in half
I only understood you as far as wanting to rip the book.

>rip book
I feel a bit like you are just trying random things as a way of procrastinating.

Temptation finally wins: you start reading.  Each page you know you should stop.  You quit only when it's absolutely certain that if you don't start writing immediately you won't get your thousand words done.  But then you are tired and cannot focus.  By the time you reach the first comma you are thinking instead about how you've squandered the day and put yourself in a hopeless position.  Finally you just set your head down on your keyboard and start crying.

I'm sorry.  I can't do this anymore.



    *** Our relationship is over ***



We don't have to end this way.  You can UNDO the last turn.  You can also RESTART or RESTORE a saved game.  If you'd rather finish breaking my heart, then by all means, QUIT.

Let’s undo that:

> undo
I'm doing jazz hands right now.

[Previous turn undone.]

>drop book
You put the book back on the shelf.

You have another incredibly annoying swoony moment because of Julia's perfume.

I seem to remember something from a Bradbury novel suggesting that books are flammable. Maybe we should BURN BOOK.

One of your suggestions worked out really well- the other… not so much.

>stretch rubber square over nose
I only understood you as far as wanting to stretch the rubber square.

>put rubber square on nose
There's no reason to do that.

>burn book
Gee, budgie.  Far be it from me to be the moral conscience when fire is involved, but that's a library book.  There's bound to be a hefty fine.  And it seems a little insane.  If you really want to, we can, but it shouldn't be a rash decision.

You're looking out the window again.  The zombies and pirates stop and point toward the sky to the west.

>burn book
(first taking the book)
I was secretly hoping you would.  You light the book on fire and it burns magnificently!  Yay!  That was epic to watch, and now we don't have to deal with you being tempted anymore to read.

The coughing and light smoke damage are well worth it.   I'll go halfsies on the library fine.

As for the sprinkler: nothing.  Not one drop.  Don't even pretend to be surprised to learn that the University gives graduate students offices in a death-trap.

>stick square in nose
After that stunt at Lucy's party last fall, I don't want you in the emergency room with another "adenoid incident."  So please don't try putting random objects into your nose.

Okay- I looked up a few things here, and did a few extra commands here that may help you come up with an idea or two, because it does feel like we are getting stuck a little.

>unfold origami trophy
What?  I spent two full days making that.  I can't see any reason why you'd want to unfold it.

>unfold origami trophy
What?  I spent two full days making that.  I can't see any reason why you'd want to unfold it.

>open trophy
That's not something you can open.

Your attention wanders as you start admonishing yourself again for forgetting your bag.  Oh, banana squizzle.  Your gaze upward in self-loathing, whereupon you are suddenly distracted by something odd about the sprinkler in the corner above the cactus.

>write
I appreciate the attempt, but you're not going to be able to write as long as you have to listen to Julia and Historic Pfister across the hall.

>examine trophy
It's exactly the same shape as the trophy they give to the winner of Sydney's Marathon.  Bright fuchsia lines curl in and out of the folds.

>rip trophy
Why would you want to tear something so beautiful that was made for you?

You are distracted by Julia saying especially loudly, "Impressive, huh?  When I was in high school my guidance counsellor recommended that I become a contortionist."

>cover window with trophy
(standing up first)
(putting the miraculously intricate origami trophy on the sill)
I don't see what the point of trying to put the fabulously intricate origami trophy on the sill would be.

>hint
After you WEAR THE PLATYPOD and SCRUNCH YOUR BROW, you'll get instructions on how to turn up the volume (JIGGLE HEAD CLOCKWISE).

>hint
After you WEAR THE PLATYPOD and SCRUNCH YOUR BROW, you'll get instructions on how to turn up the volume (JIGGLE HEAD CLOCKWISE).

>x me
You also look dishevelled, especially since you haven't washed your hair in a week.

You're carrying a lighter, a miraculously intricate origami trophy, an empty plastic bottle, a small chip and a rubber square, and you're wearing the platyPod.

>x chip
It's like one of those chips in a musical greeting card, with a tiny plum-coloured "V." painted on it.  When you squeeze it you hear me shout "Happy birthday!" and then a cheery kazoo toot.

You're looking out the window again.  Holy [bother].  Somebody built a dirigible for this.  The outside appears to be covered in aluminium foil, so it's good it just missed the power lines as it descends into the park.

>save
Ok.

>Ok.

>look
Bear in mind that, meanwhile, I'm using the walk-in closet of our apartment as a "studio."

You've a quite large desk in front of a window, a resplendent yellow chair, a cabinet in one corner, an absurdly large cactus in another, and a tall bookcase on the back wall with a sadly broken stool.  The door is west.

The bookcase contains a smartly-done snowglobe. 

>look window
I only understood you as far as wanting to look.

>x window
Your window is immediately behind your desk, about two metres high and one wide.  It has an old grey blind, which is raised.

The window sill is just below the back edge of your desk.

You look out the window.  The zombies and pirates have regained their composure and are lurching and marauding (respectively) toward the landed aircraft.  The hatch at the bottom opens with strange green smoke billowing out.

>x blind
As I've already said, I wish the blind was more colourful.  It's raised.  There's a cord.

You are distracted by Julia saying especially loudly, "It's not so much that I'm double jointed as just very determined."

Sadly, none of your suggestions have panned out here (except for the blinds one), but there are some items we haven’t looked at yet, so maybe we’ll get lucky here.

>move desk near cactus
I don't see what you are talking about.

>climb on desk
You climb onto your desk.  Be careful, nutter butter.

>inspect sprinkler
You're going to have to use a different verb for me to understand what you mean.

>x sprinkler
(getting off the desk first)
Remember?  Last October:
"Hey, wallaroo, why is there a pen between the sprinkler and the ceiling?"
"It's been there since I moved in."
"How could somebody even wedge a pen up in there like that?"
"It's even more mysterious considering that the previous occupant of this office was a dwarf."
"Molly! She was hilarious! Remember the prank with the disappearing ink toner cartridge?"
"That was mostly you, dear.  All Molly did was slip it in Julia's printer before her big presentation."

>close blind
You pull the cord and the blind lowers halfway, then stops.

Julia's stupid perfume again.  Remember when she was all excited to meet Lucy's brother after she heard he was a pheromone scientist?

>close blind
The blind is already lowered as far as it is going to go now that you've broken the whatever.

(BTW: you know full well that Molly is not a dwarf.  She isn't even especially short.*)

>*
It's interesting how your mind consistently malforms women who have crushes on me.  Camilla has three tiny birthmarks on her cheek and you call her "Splotchy Girl."

>put chip in platypod
It's just a customised version of one of those chips that are in musical greeting cards.  You don't have to worry about trying to find something to put it into.

>play chip
You're going to have to use a different verb for me to understand what you mean.

>listen to chip
You can hear Julia and Historic Pfister across the hall.

>jiggle head clockwise
Nothing happens besides your neck feeling a little looser.  (You know the platyPod is off, right?  SCRUNCH YOUR BROW if you mean for it to be on.)

You're looking out the window again.  Two aliens step through the hatch, green skin and giant foreheads.  Eight other aliens jump out of the bushes and start attacking the pirates and zombies with these silver sticks that have a chartreuse coil wrapped around them.

>put platypod in ears
There's no reason to do that.

>scrunch your brow
My voice: "Look, it even lets you record a start-up message!  How the platyPod works: You cycle through the different playlists by RAISING your left or right eyebrow.   NOD to skip to the next track.  JIGGLE your head clockwise to turn the volume up, and jiggle it anticlockwise to turn it down."

The platyPod turns on.  The platyPod clicks and Warren is kicking [bother] on his accordion again.

The volume is low.  You can still sometimes hear Julia and Historic Pfister across the hall.

>jiggle head clockwise
You move your head in little clockwise circles.  The volume is now so loud that you cannot hear Julia and Historic Pfister at all.

You tug your hair anguishedly and say out loud, "The pen is emblematic of what a [bother]-up I am."  Please, jellysquish.  It's just a pen.  Don't start down one of your spirals about it.

>write
(first sitting on chair)
The volume on the platyPod is too loud for you to concentrate.

>jiggle head counterclockwise
You move your head in little anticlockwise circles. The volume is not loud.  You can still sometimes hear Julia and Historic Pfister across the hall.

Warren Tim Harried is playing "Please Don't (My Grandma Gave Me That)" from Runt with an Accordion, recorded when he was fourteen years old.

>write
You can still sometimes hear Julia and Historic Pfister.  You are not going to write as long as there's any noise across the hall that you can hear.

>hint
After you WEAR THE PLATYPOD and SCRUNCH YOUR BROW, you'll get instructions on how to turn up the volume (JIGGLE HEAD CLOCKWISE).

>hint
After you WEAR THE PLATYPOD and SCRUNCH YOUR BROW, you'll get instructions on how to turn up the volume (JIGGLE HEAD CLOCKWISE).

>l
There was a professor at uni in Melbourne who was sacked for living in an office smaller than this.  He had a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock, as my mum would say.

You've a big desk in front of a window, a gorgeous yellow chair, a cabinet in one corner, a giant cactus in another, and a tall bookcase on the back wall with a sadly broken stool.  The door is west.

The bookcase holds a smartly-done snowglobe. 

>x desk
Of course the big oak desk is unusually posh for a graduate student office.  It belonged to a professor who had a stroke at his computer and none of the other faculty wanted a desk on which once rested the head of a dead colleague.

On top of the desk are your computer, my itinerary, a framed darling and a pile you cannot even contemplate right now.

Inside the desk's drawer is a notebook.  A wastebasket is to the left of the desk.

You are distracted by Julia saying especially loudly, "Sure, she's cute.  If you can get past the mole."

Hey!  Watch it, Julia.

We’re taking a break from trying to try to write, and taking in the majesty of our office and the many things in it.
Hopefully, one or more of the things we looked at will come in handy here!

>x door
(standing up first)
It's a plain white wooden door.  On the other side is distraction and ruin.  Abandon hope, all ye who exit.

On the wall beside the door is the lightswitch.  Above the door is a vent.

>x walls
Remember how Molly hung a couple of her paintings when this was her office?  I wish you'd put up at least a couple posters.  Your walls are so dreary and bare.  Not anything to worry about today, of course.

The lightswitch is on the wall by the door.

You're looking out the window again.  Zombies, pirates, and aliens are all in the park now, mock-fighting.

>x floor
It's drab and would look much better if we found a rug that matched the chair.  (I'm not sure why I am so preoccupied with your office decor when what I want is for you to finish so we can get out of Madison.)

The floor slopes alarmingly downward over in the corner by the cactus, like that whole part of the room may be about to collapse.

On your floor is a wastebasket.

>look under desk
OK.  I'm done with this.  There's actually nothing under your desk.

Warren is playing "Someday They'll Go Too Far," which became a hit on local pirate radio stations after being discovered by school authorities and played on the evening news.

>inspect chair
You're going to have to use a different verb for me to understand what you mean.

>x chair
It was just some dreary old office chair that they dragged up from the basement for you, but then I came up one weekend with this amazing yellow veloury-pleatherish fabric and upholstered it.

>x notebook
It's a smallish notebook, about 10x15 centimetres.  The cover is lenticular. From this angle, it's a drawing of the comic book hero Professor Detective telling one of his graduate students, "You carry the heaviest of all burdens: POTENTIAL."

Several pages inside the notebook have writing on them.

>read itinerary
A printout of an airline receipt for a certain Ms. Violet C., for a flight from Madison to Chicago to Los Angeles to Auckland to Melbourne.  One-way, refundable.  Departing early tomorrow morning.

I hate that I've given you an ultimatum.  But I don't feel like I've any choice.

You are distracted by Julia saying "She makes things that look like summer camp crafts and tries to convince people they're art."

I wonder if I'd get away with it if I killed her right before my flight leaves tomorrow morning.

>climb on desk
You climb onto your desk.  Be careful, rockmelon.

>get pen
It's on the other side of the room, in the corner above the cactus.

Warren is playing "No Normal Boy Would Write That Song," recorded during a weekend furlough from a private psychiatric facility for troubled adolescent boys.

>x framed darling
(getting off the desk first)
Why you chose this photo of me, I don't know.  It's from a party last summer.  I've an enormous foam lobster on my head and whipped cream all over my right cheek.  I'm smiling manically and look like I may be so tipsy that I don't know what continent I'm on.

Permit me two moments of immodesty:

1.  Even in a picture where I'm not at my best, I am still clearly worth a thousand words.

2.  The frame itself is very cleverly done.

>x pile
It's detritus from teaching, a couple unfinished side projects, and the earlier dissertation topic that you asked We Never Speak Of Again.  It's been accumulating and now makes you feel too overwhelmed even to contemplate.

Except today, when you absolutely must write, you are feeling an overwhelming urge to tidy it.

>x wastebasket
It's the standard issue University Dreary--sullen cousin of University Drab--metal wastebasket.

Inside the wastebasket are some charred remains.

A wad of gum is stuck to the wastebasket's rim.

You have got to get over Julia's perfume.  I am being indulgent with you here.

Would it be wrong to try starting a fire on the door for the room which has Julia in it? Not so much to kill her, but to get her out of the building.

@KDemo had some good ideas, so we’re trying them here.

>x picture frame
I only understood you as far as wanting to examine the cleverly framed picture.

>x picture
The photograph is me drunk, with a giant foam lobster on my head.  The frame itself is smartly done.

>read notebook
The first page with writing has a sentence ending with the word "gaps."  You've crossed this out and rewritten it with "lacunae" instead.  That you crossed out and tried "interstices."  You crossed that out in favour of "interstitial lacunae," but then that has several lines through it and a little drawing of me saying "Quit being pretentious."

You're looking out the window again.  One of the aliens is using his silver stick to vanquish a pirate that I'm pretty sure works at Starbucks.  The alien tries to step forward but something appears to be holding his left foot in place.

>take chewed gum
I don't see what you are talking about.

>take gum
You pull the gum off the wastebasket's rim.  Ick.

>move pile to wastebasket
That would require gathering up the pile, when it makes you feel like a busted, hopeless human being just to try to contemplate it.

Nonetheless, you do feel a very strong desire to tidy it.

You are distracted by Julia loudly saying "I bet when they first hooked up, she was like, 'Would you like to see my didgeridoo?'"  (That has to be the most gallingly inept fake Australian accent I have ever heard.  She sounds like a Norwegian parakeet.)

>climb on desk
You climb onto your desk.  Be careful, crunchie.

>fix blings with gum
I don't see what you are talking about.

>use gum with blinds
I only understood you as far as wanting to use the piece of Two Bob Slobber bubble gum.

>fix blinds with gum
I only understood you as far as wanting to fix the blind.

>fix the blind
You've broken the whatever.  You aren't going to be able to "fix" it any further.

You look up at the ceiling.  "Camilla wouldn't have forgotten her bag." you say ruefully.  "Camilla would never be without a pen."  Please, teacake.  This is not a helpful line of thinking.

>move desk to cactus
The desk is too heavy to move by yourself.

We made some progress, and so I didn’t ask for a hint this time, because we don’t need it right now.
Also, I think I can officially say that the blind is broken now and is down as far as it will go.
Yay @KDemo!

>
Just because you are imagining me doesn't mean I'm a mindreader.

>tidy pile
(getting off the desk first)
You pick up one thing, then put it back down.  You pick up another then put that down.  You start thinking that what you really need is comprehensive office-straightening solution.  You're thinking about making a diagram, maybe a spreadsheet.

STOP.  This is not what you should be doing today.

Out of the pile, however, you do pick up a potato gem.

>lower the blind
The blind is already lowered as far as it is going to go now that you've broken the whatever.

Warren is playing "My Lonesome Pain is Not A Polka" from We Paid You For Happy, the artistic breakthrough composed while he supported himself with gigs at family reunions and retirement centres.

>lower blind
The blind is already lowered as far as it is going to go now that you've broken the whatever.

>divide gum in half
You're going to have to use a different verb for me to understand what you mean.

>put gum in ears
You can't put anything in your ears so long as you are wearing the platyPod.

>remove platypod
The platyPod automatically turns off when you remove it.

You are distracted by Julia laughing and mock-shrieking "Or maybe, 'Touch my kiwi!  Touch my kiwi!'"  Ugh.  How can someone almost have her Ph.D. and not know that kiwis are New Zealand, not Australia?

>put gum in ears
Ick.  And yet, maybe ingenious.  But the gum is all dried.  It's not going to stick in your ears like that.

>examine picture frame
I only understood you as far as wanting to examine the cleverly framed picture.

>x frame
I took the concert flier from our first "date" and made it into a hard plastic laminate--you know, like a Shrinky Dink.  I made a clear plastic sheet the same size to go over the front of the photograph.  Then I fused a sturdy binder clip to the two pieces to hold everything in place.

>x potato gem
(I always forget they aren't called potato gems here.  Just like I can never remember that it's "cotton candy" instead of "fairy floss.")

I think you brought tater tots for your lunch a fortnight ago.  I hope it's not older than that.

You're looking out the window again.  The alien is sinking into his ground.  A zombie surgeon is trying to save him.  Holes are opening up in several other places in the park.

Here we go!
Lots of things happened here, thanks to your mostly spot-on suggestions.
Would you like me to change the style of the output at all, or is it easy enough to read and figure out what happened and the important stuff?

>lick gum
You're going to have to use a different verb for me to understand what you mean.

>chew gum
When I made you try it before, you said that it tastes sort of like American bubble gum, only if one added soy sauce, pieces of pickled meat, and a bit of blood. 
And add to that now a strong mildew taste.  Yuck.  You gag and spit the gum back out.
>put gum in ears
You are marvellous.  The gum does not block out all sound, but some.   You can still hear Julia and Historic Pfister when they are being especially loud.

>wear platypod
The platyPod still fits well, as the earpieces nestle nicely into the gum.  The platyPod is switched off.

You are distracted by Julia saying especially loudly, "You've been exercising more.  I've noticed."

Oh no.

>rotate head clockwise
Nothing happens besides your neck feeling a little looser.  (You know the platyPod is off, right?  SCRUNCH YOUR BROW if you mean for it to be on.)

>scrunch brow
My voice: "Look, it even lets you record a start-up message!  How the platyPod works: You cycle through the different playlists by RAISING your left or right eyebrow.   NOD to skip to the next track.  JIGGLE your head clockwise to turn the volume up, and jiggle it anticlockwise to turn it down."

The platyPod turns on.  The platyPod clicks and Warren is taking no prisoners on his accordion again.

The volume is on low, and it's even lower with the gum in your ears.  Nonetheless, you can still sometimes faintly hear Julia and Historic Pfister across the hall.

>rotate head clockwise
You move your head in little clockwise circles.  The volume is still not that loud given the gum in your ears, but you can no longer hear Julia and Historic Pfister at all.  Hee.  Take that, Julia!

Warren is playing from Drumsticks, the bootleg album recorded during a performance at a family fried chicken restaurant.

>break picture frame
I only understood you as far as wanting to break the cleverly framed picture.

>break frame
You try to break the frame gently.  I fused the binder clip well, however, so you end up having to pull and twist to get it apart.  When you do, the front and back each break into several pieces, and so what is now on the desk along with the binder clip and photograph are some pitiful little plastic shards.

Obviously I won't be able to repair it.

I loved that frame.  I'm not sure what you are expecting me to say.  Hooray?

Remember when I handed you the itinerary last night?  Your response: "So I have tomorrow.  What do I need to do?"

"Please," I told you, "I don't want yet another promise."
"I will write tomorrow. I will write every day until it is done."
"You won't.  You'll have reasons, excuses.  Maybe more lies.  I can't believe you've been lying--"
"Violet, I will write one thousand words tomorrow.  I will bring the pages to you as proof.  I will do this every day."

Then I covered my face with my hands because otherwise I wouldn't have been able to say it:
"You won't.  I know you believe that you will.  But you won't actually do it."
"Of course I will, Violet.  I have to."
"And yet you won't.  That's how we're stuck.  I can't keep waiting and pretending. Every day? Budgie, you won't even do it tomorrow."
"I will.  One thousand words.  Nothing will stop me."

I need for you to write today.  I wish you could just sit and type.  I realise you can't.  Of course it hurts to watch you destroy things I spent days making for you.  But do whatever you must.  I don't want to leave you.

>take binder clip
Yours, plucky wombat.

>use clip on nose
I only understood you as far as wanting to use the binder clip.

>put clip on nose
You've put the binder clip on your nose.

>fling potato gem at pen
You're going to have to use a different verb for me to understand what you mean.

>fling gem at pen
You're going to have to use a different verb for me to understand what you mean.

>flick gem at pen
I only understood you as far as wanting to flick the tater tot.

>flick gem at sprinkler
I only understood you as far as wanting to flick the tater tot.

>write
(first sitting on chair)
You try again.  But then you start doing air accordion to Warren Tim Harried.  I'm not sure how easy it is going to be able for you to write while the most compelling musician ever is playing.

You're looking out the window again.  Brown things are emerging from the holes.  Mole people!  The alien is free now and is standing back, applauding.

Do we still have the book from the bookcase which we insisted on reading?

Also, that sign/trophy is bugging me, and it’s the only thing which can block the window due to its size.

So…

Unfold trophy
Block window

If Violet objects, then obviously she’d rather have an origami trophy than have a me, in which case, her materialistic needs are pathetic.

Awesome job by both @KDemo & @TickledLizard here- we’re making great progress.

>raise left eyebrow
A mechanical Oz voice announces, "Now playing Primrose Meanwell." She's the friend from uni I was telling you about.   Absolutely the shyest person--then last week I get an e-mail announcing she's recorded an album!

>look desk
I only understood you as far as wanting to look.

>x desk
It's an enviable desk, even if someone did die on it.  On top are some pitiful little plastic shards, a photograph, your computer, my itinerary and a pile you cannot even contemplate.

Inside the desk's drawer is a notebook.  A wastebasket is to the left of the desk.

>unfold trophy
You take the trophy I made for you and methodically unfold it.  I cannot decide whether to be exasperated or moved by how you are so careful not to tear it.  You're now holding a crumply sign, about a metre square.

Unbelievable.  Un-be-[bother]ing-lievable.

Remember?  That night sitting on the swings, shortly after we started dating?  I was emphatic that we had to end this before we got serious.
"But, Violet," you said, "I'm already serious."
"Coming to Wisconsin was supposed to be a great adventure.  I didn't know it was so cold.  I thought Madison was bigger.  I miss my family.  My friends are all leaving when they finish their MFAs.  Mine is already done.  We only have a future if I stay.  And if I stay, I would just be waiting."

We had that conversation the day after you turned 28, because I was determined to break up with you and thought only a cretin would dump someone on their birthday.

You convinced me to stay.  You said you would be done in a year, a year and a half at the most.   Instead: two years now.  Two years.  And this is what you need to do because you can't just sit your [bother] down and write?

I know you aren't doing this to hurt me.  I'll try go back to being Your Upbeat Aussie Girlfriend.  But, honestly: what am I supposed to think here?  How am I supposed to feel?

>block window
You'd have to tell me what to block it with.

>block window with sign
(standing up first)
(putting the crumply sign on the sill)
You put the sign on the sill.  The sign and the blind together now block the view out your window entirely.

>write
(first sitting on chair)
You type a sentence, just like that.  Then another!  But the third sentence is tricky; it includes a semicolon.  Now you are just shuffling words around with cut and paste.

I know, this is why you like having a pen and paper when you write, to work out the phrasing of tougher sentences.  You try tracing your finger on the desk but it doesn't help.

>toss gem at pen
You're going to have to use a different verb for me to understand what you mean.

Is this a semantic issue? PUT GEM IN POUCH

Good news/bad news:
We made a slingshot, but we missed.

>put gem in pouch
As strong and stretchy as the rubber is, you basically have a slingshot now that something is in the pouch.  You could SHOOT SOMETHING.  If I'm going to patent this, I should think about whether this unanticipated functionality exposes me to any legal risk.

>shoot pen
You're a very good shot.  I guess you were serious about that spooky bowhunting uncle.  The tater tot misses the pen by less than half an inch and hits the wall, where it shatters.

I think you've the right idea, though.  One more shot and I bet you'll hit it.

>shoot pen
Hmm.  While I didn't have this in mind when I made it, the rubber square could be used like a slingshot if you put a suitable object in the little pouch.

A bonus round before tonight:

>take cap off bottle
I don't see what you are talking about.

>open water bottle
I don't see what you are talking about.

>put chip in pouch
You put the small chip into the rubber square's "pouch".

>shoot pen
The chip isn't really a good shape for this.  It flies in a odd arc and misses several feet to the right.

Warren is playing the title track from Francine.  (Actually, all 37 songs on the album are officially titled "Francine.")

>x bottle
The only part of the label in English says "Divine Soda Mega Energy."  The bottle is empty.

Your suggestions have mostly worked out (except if you actually wanted to hit that pen).
Hopefully you don’t mind that I did something you didn’t ask for to save you a little time.

>throw bottle at pen
The bottle is difficult to throw hard now that it's empty. When you do, you've no control and either hit the ceiling or miss wide by a foot or more.

It's too bad you don't have a bow and arrow, as then maybe all those summer visits to your spooky bowhunting uncle would pay off.

>take chip out of pouch
I only understood you as far as wanting to take the small chip.

>get chip
Yours, toaster strudel.

>put lighter in pouch
The lighter is a bit too long to fit in the pouch.

>x pile
The pile is such a reminder of the problems you've had being scattered that you cannot even contemplate it without feeling defeated.

Warren is playing the song unofficially titled "Parking Garage," following the convention of identifying tracks on Francine by the location of the tryst the liner notes say inspired them.

>tidy pile
After the earlier try, you've realised that tidying the mess is not a good use of your time today.

>x snow globe
It's a glass globe with a plain wooden bottom.  Inside is a happy winter scene, with a paunchy, smiling figurine in a white outfit and snow up to his ankles.  His hands look like they are covered with chocolate.

>hint
You need to find something else that you can shoot at the pen.

>hint
[more hints available] Have you examined--and, lo, it pains me to say this--the snowglobe?

>x snowglobe
It's a glass globe with a plain wooden bottom.  Inside is a happy winter scene, with a paunchy, smiling figurine in a white outfit and snow up to his ankles.  His hands look like they are covered with chocolate.

>put snowglobe in pouch
The snowglobe is too big to fit in the pouch.

>throw snowglobe at pen
(first taking the smartly-done snowglobe)
I love that globe.  I let you have it because you kept saying it was brilliant.

I understand that it is probably the object here you can throw most accurately.  But, of course it's going to shatter.  If you really think you need that pen in order to write today--ugh.  Just don't miss, okay?

>throw snowglobe at pen
You aim carefully and throw.  The globe hits the side of the sprinkler and shatters.  That wasn't even especially close.  I guess your crazy stories of gym class trauma weren't exaggerations.

At least the figurine looks undamaged.  And you recognise now that the wooden base of the snowglobe was just a coaster of yours that I stole.

>look
I'm surprised you don't have any pictures from home up, but I can be especially sentimental since home for me involves crossing both the equator and International Date Line.

You've a great big desk in front of a window, a resplendent yellow chair, a cabinet in one corner, a giant cactus in another, and a tall bookcase on the back wall with a sadly broken stool.  The door is west.

On the desk are some pitiful little plastic shards, a photograph, your computer, my itinerary and a pile you cannot even contemplate.  In addition, on the floor are a coaster, a figurine, fake snow, broken glass and a wastebasket. 

You look once more to the ceiling.  "Camilla is never without office supplies.  Camilla never mispronounces 'Aussie' like it rhymes with 'bossy'."

>get coaster
Yours, wonkabar.

>get figurine
Yours, chutney.  Be careful with it.

>get snow
Yours, lemon squidgie.

>get glass
You'll cut your hand.  You can worry about cleaning it up later.

Interesting things are happening now. Also, @KDemo is on fire with suggestions!

>put figurine in pouch
Done.  I'm not sure I like this.

Warren is playing "Booth Seven at Steak'n'Shake," the track on Francine that got him tour dates opening for ironic death metal icon Jimmy Catkicker.

>shoot pen
The figurine sails through the air and hits the pen headfirst, knocking it loose.  The pen falls to the floor. The figurine careens ahead into the wall and shatters.

I spent thirty-seven hours straight working on that figurine.  I know I said to do "whatever you must."  It still hurts to watch what that "must" is taking from us.

Ultimately, yes, I understand.  Then again, I'm speaking just as your imaginary rendition of me.  Actual-Me was already fed up enough to buy a plane ticket; I'm not sure how you expect to explain this.

>get pen
Yours, berry smush.

>write
(first switching platyPod back to Primrose)
(then sitting on chair)
You are ready.  But when you take the cap off the pen, purple gunk sprays out and all over your clothes. 

Molly!  I don't know how she rigged that.  I also don't know why women conclude that the best way of expressing anguish over me is through some display of mechanical cleverness.  Remember Camilla and the 50-foot aluminium peacock?

The pen itself actually works.  Of course, your clothes are ruined.  Worse, you are starting to itch.

So close folks!!!
We actually wrote a couple of sentences, and then something happened.

>look me
I only understood you as far as wanting to look.

>look self
I only understood you as far as wanting to look.

>x self
I wouldn't say slovenly, necessarily, but we'd have to clean you up before we showed you to my mum.  (Not to mention how she is still getting used to me liking girls.)

You're carrying a cap, a pen, fake snow, a coaster, a small chip, a lighter, an empty plastic bottle and a rubber square, and you're wearing the platyPod.

You also have gum in your ears and a binder clip on your nose.

You are itchy.

>strip clothes
I only understood you as far as wanting to strip.

>strip
(first standing up)
You place your clothes neatly next to the cactus.

So now you're standing in your office naked, with a red binder clip on your nose and what looks like a furry three-legged space creature on your head.  You also have a rancid-meaty bubble-gummy taste in your mouth, some smoke damage to your walls, and a lot to explain to Actual-Me.

You are ready to write now.  I can feel it.

>write
(first sitting on chair)
You write two more sentences.  I can tell you're feeling more confident.  I knew you could do this.  You conclude the first paragraph with an especially provocative participle.  Then you hit enter and realise:

You have to pee.

Unbelievable.  This must be an anxiety thing.  You are killing me.

@TickledLizard had a good idea for our bladder problem, but it’s not that easy as a lady:

>pee on cactus
(standing up first)
If you were a man, that'd be easy.  As it is, you aren't going to back up against a cactus and relieve yourself.

Primrose sings about how she likes to write in her journal. 

You have to pee.

Urm… READ… READ NOTE?

Here’s the next portion:

   Gone.  Sorry.

   Violet

You had to have known I was going to leave you anyway.  All the clues were there.

Oh no!!

"SURPRISE!" thirty people jump up and shout when you open the door.  Good thing you were covering your [bother] with the pages you wrote.

One hour and three drinks later, you aren't even that embarrassed.  I pull you into the kitchen and kiss you.

"You said you wanted something twisted for your birthday."
"I was thinking more along the lines of you in peculiar lingerie."
"I spent much of today hyperventilating thinking it was too cruel."
"I figured out some important things today.  So, at worst, it was an extremely instructive cruel."
"I'll still understand if you're angry."
"You're the one who's going to be angry.  I have to tell you something about the snowglobe.  And the origami trophy.  And--"

I put my hand on your arm to stop you.  "I've a confession that supersedes yours."

Paging @mikibell, @KDemo, @metaphore to the thread!
Please catch up if you’re interested, and then add your theory to my question above.

We’ve made it- here’s what Violet’s confession to us is:

I open up my laptop and show you.  On my screen is your office, as seen from the vent above the door.

Of course you're bewildered.  I explain: "When I was hiding your birthday present, I rigged a camera up there.  Not to spy!  Or, not to spy like that. I needed to know when you were coming home for the party.  I thought it would just be you at your computer.  I didn't know you'd end up naked and peeing in a wastebasket."

"I spent the entire day imagining that you were watching me," you say.  "Maybe it only worked because you actually were."
"Watching you break everything was maddening," I tell you, "but I'm still here.  I understand, even.  Sort of.  So long as you understand that you're only getting store-bought presents for a while."

We've reached the hard part.  "I'm committed to this, budgie.  But I don't know what we're going to do with you."

"No, Violet.  What are we going to do with you?  My turn is done.  It's the only fair thing."
"You've been miserable.  You'll be happier this way."
"I'm already happier.  Today made it so clear.  This is not what I'm meant to be doing with my life.  I know, I've spent six years in graduate school, I should be crying right now.  Instead I feel wonderful.  I love you so much."

Me too, wallaroo.

Three weeks later we are holding hands in the supereconomy section of a flight to Australia.  My brother is lending me money to open a curiosities shop.  He's found you a job at a comic book shop until you decide what's next.

Congratulations @KDemo on successfully getting one last piece right!

One or two final posts to wrap this up.

Here’s the last bit from the game:

* * *

I know it's not precisely Plan A, but we are happy and unstuck.  This is winning.  What now?  I understand if you just want to QUIT now that the merry glow of victory is upon us.  But you can also UNDO the last turn, RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, or (bonus!) view some of the so-called AMUSING things you might've missed.

Thanks so much for the brave souls who stuck with me to the end of this journey, and to everyone who joined in, even if only for a turn. Took a little while to figure out a good rhythm here, but I think we finally settled on something good.
Hope you enjoyed this, and I would love to hear feedback on what you liked, didn’t like, and things you’d like to see changed for future playthroughs.