You close the door behind you in your new apartment. Your housewarming is in one week. It is pitch black.
TURN ON LIGHTS
You cannot see the light switch.
GROPE FOR SWITCH
You walk along the wall with your hands. Fortunately, there is nothing to trip over in your empty apartment. You find a switch.
FLIP SWITCH
Nothing happens. Have you an account with Pacific Gas & Electric?
CALL PG&E
You have no phone service. Have you an account with AT&T?
EXIT APARTMENT
You are outside the building. Have you your keys?
YES DAMNIT
Just asking.
WALK TO CORNER STORE
You just moved to the neighborhood, so you don’t know where the corner store is.
WALK DOWNHILL
You walk two blocks and discover a light commercial neighborhood. There is a sign for “Last Chance Sundries”
ENTER STORE
You are in a cluttered little corner store. Cartons of surplus dog biscuits are stacked along one wall. The proprietor is a small but formidable troll woman.
ASK FOR CHANGE
The troll glares at you and says nothing.
BUY DOG BISCUITS
You don’t have a dog.
BUY THEM ANYWAY.
You hand over $9.67 for a carton of expired dog biscuits. This leaves you with $0.33 in change.
USE PAYPHONE
The payphone costs $0.35.
FIND PENNIES
There are no pennies here. The drunken gnome sleeping on the sidewalk probably picked up all the loose change.
OFFER BISCUIT
You wave the mouldy dog biscuit under the gnome’s nose. He blinks unsteadily, then snatches it out of your hands and wolfs it down. There are now crumbs in his beard.
ASK FOR TWO CENTS
The gnome growls at you. I think he’s hungover.
GIVE HIM ALL THE DAMN BISCUITS. I KNOW HE’S GOT TWO CENTS.
You give him your last biscuit. He wolfs it down, and walks unsteadily away, apparently satisfied. Something falls from his beard.
LOOK
It’s two pennies, of course.
CALL AT&T
You feed the change into the payphone and dial the operator, who directs your call to AT&T’s Muzak department. After a long time, you speak to a surly dwarf who agrees to set up service at your new address, if you bring to him the Ring of Zardoz.
AHHH!
Screaming at him doesn’t help.
GO HOME
You walk back up the hill to your apartment building. You notice that your car has been towed. Have you an Area J parking permit?
FUCK!
You wish.
GET PERMIT
You don’t know where to get it.
GOOGLE DMV
I see no internet here.
GO HOME
You close the door behind you in your new apartment. It is pitch black. You are likely to be eaten by a grue.