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The Lady In The Purse: Chapter II

(continued from Chapter I)


>look

Front Entry

You are standing outside the front of a door.  On a table, nearby, sits a glass of clear liquid upon a golden saucer.  The Lady in the Purse is currently bathing in the cup, and she begins singing an annoying rendition of a Bee Gees song.  You are looking toward the west wall which is cheaply designed with gold plated crustaceans next to a painting of silver-plated glasses filled with what appears to be red wine!

>wait

You wait a few minutes, noticing some intricate rococo guild on the opposite wall that looks provincial, but not in a good-bad way which, upon thinking it over, you realize that makes it better-worse.

The Lady in the Purse calls out from behind you, “I am ready, darling.  Oh, I do feel much better, I’ll feel even better when I get out of here.  Yeah, I can’t get out of a cup, huh.  I took a bath in 8 ounces of water.  Well… I think it is water.  It is odorless, and it does have a specific weight of 1.  I remember that distinctly.  But, there is something about it.  An otherness, it has it.  Something I cannot put my finger on, well, I guess it’s no big deal.  Anyway, I jumped in okay, but I can’t lift my own weight, okay?  Is it a crime?  I’m a tiny person, you know.  Do you remember who I am?  Or did you forget that too along with your own name?  Janet, what a silly name for a silly girl.  Now, would you give me a finger without looking and then pull me out of here, please?  Then set me down?  Not the middle finger, dear, this is no time to be making jokes.”

Your eye balls have turned into marbles and your tongue is a freeze-dried Saharan mandrake root.

>help the Lady in the Purse climb out of the cup
You can’t climb that way from here.

>help the Lady in the Purse
[reaching blindly]
[done]

you reach behind your back and carefully lift the Lady in the Purse from out of the cup and place her on the table, upright.  She is very pleased with you until you carelessly tip the cup and it falls over, rolls off onto the floor, and breaks into several pieces sounding like a bomb exploded.

“Very good, dear,” the Lady in the Purse sneers, “very good, yes, indeed.  Wow.  You really did what you always do this time again, wow.  Janet.  Woah.  I tell you, don’t I?  I say, be careful darling.  I say, go easy, dear heart.  I always warn you to be mindful, always very politely, is it not the case?  Would you express doubt what I have nothing but your best interest in mind, and add habitual lying to your list of chronic failings?  My, my, my, my, look at what you’ve done.  You’ve destroyed a perfectly good glass.  That was my bathtub!  For once, let it sink in, darling, learn from the experience.  My poor, poor, poor little child!  You poor thing!  I cannot imagine what it is like for you to wake up every morning.  You have a pretty face but you are as listless as a hen with the clumsy gate of a drunken turkey thief!  Please take a look at your life, and analyze it, do the analysis, and turn over a new leaf.  It happens, people can change.  You can change yourself, if you listen to me.  You won’t do it, but you could do it.  That is what I say.  I’m trying to help you but what do you do?  You insult me.  You put me down, you force me to live in your purse.  Well, do you think I want to live there?  My, no.  I know you talk about me when I’m not around.  Very clever, darling.  You’re a clever one, but I listen to your phone calls when you call customer service and you profile the customer service representative by voice, and if you imagine that they are African-American, you speak a little more casually than you normally are known to do.  I noticed it.  That is overt racism you filthy bigot!  Haven’t African dash Americans suffered enough already having been slaves and weren’t there already enough lynchings for you white nationalist dogs to sleep by!  My family taught me to treat all people equally, I don’t know about yours.  Your people, those heathens (were they perhaps from the sticks?) with them, the way they must be, goodness only knows, with your Obama name dropping like you’re a martyr for being a Democrat...  All black people don’t know each other, dear, try to remember that.  You once asked a dignified African-American woman if she knew what time the bus would arrive.  As if, as if, assuming, that she must know, because of the color of her skin.  In your mind, black people just ride the bus around all day long, what, looking for dance practice, which tends to take them on every route?  So they must know every bus schedule, right?  You probably think Rosa Parks was being a diva.  Is that what you make up in your twisted view on things?  I’m offended!!  What a miserable person you must be on the inside, how tortured you must be, being the way you are.  It makes me…  I wonder… about… Heavens, I’ve lost my place… Yes, I remember, you made an unforgivable mess again and don’t know what to do next.  As long as the road is typical, I can navigate the oncoming traffic.  Well, go on, clean it up dear, it isn’t going to bite you now, what are you waiting for?”

>clean up broken glass

You reach down to pick up the pieces, one by one, and as you locate the last one, you notice a floor tile that looks different from the others, it has a slight indentation and it seems, oddly, like a different shade.  You place the broken shards back on the table.  The Lady in the Purse looks out at you from the purse, now the zipper is opened just enough to allow her head to pop out.  She just looks at you and repeats “mmmm mmm mmm mmm mm” several times and shakes her head and her finger at you before you see her face descending slowly before you she zips herself in.  The Bee Gees are playing from inside the purse, but you don’t know how that could be.

Your brain cells could be harvested by the petrified museum if you do not take a drink very soon.  We feel we are not getting through to you, but you need to find something to drink and then drink it as fast as possible because water is an essential ingredient of earth-bound organisms, if that is what you are.

>step on the odd-colored tile
I don’t know what that is.

>step on the tile

You step on the odd-colored tile, and press down a little, but it is not enough pressure to move it so you stand on the tile and you jump up and down.  Feeling ready to give up, you decide to give it one last try.  Meanwhile, the Lady in the Purse peaks out to investigate the racket you’re making.  You jump very high this time, and land dead-center upon the tile.  Nothing happens.

“Well, she’s finally gone completely mad, I see,” the Lady mutters making it clear she is speaking directly to you as if to herself and goes back inside, now playing Elton John’s I’m Still Standing.

Feeling ready to just quit, you hear a sudden click, and just then the wall to the east spins around and reveals a chest of drawers beneath a mantle upon which leans a framed photograph of a man seated near a flag you do not recognize along with various other bric-a-brac that for all you know are unimportant to your adventure.

Once everything stops moving, as you begin to process what just happened, a tiny drawer pops open on the upper left hand side.

Your skin has been declared raw denim that has been laying in Sargon’s tomb all this time mysteriously.

>look in drawer
Which drawer do you mean, the small drawer, the extra-large drawer, the yellow drawer, or the ancient drawer?

>the ancient drawer
You do not see THAT here.

>the small drawer
[look in the small drawer]

You look inside the small drawer and discover that the small drawer you are inspecting contains nothing whatever and so your search yields the same magnitude of answers for all points on the space-time continuum: zero or negative zero times the square root of negative one.

“Figures,” says the Lady in the Purse, “it figures.  With the way you’ve handled things thus far, it quite figures.  I am not surprised.  Look at me, and notice that my look is not a look that would indicate surprise or even mild suspense.  It is all very intuitive when it comes to you: always the same.  If my arm wasn’t so tiny, I could set my watch to your antics and I wager I wouldn’t be off by more than 15 seconds either way.  I am very accurate with numbers, Janet.  I know you try to deny it, but the truth is the truth, plain and simple: I’m very proficient in mathematics.  I can measure things in my head and simplify complex numbers with ease.  My calculus professor used to...”

As she is talking, you notice that she has become nearly twice as tall as she was before, and she is now sitting on the edge of the table, about a foot in height.  She does not seem to notice as she meanders through to the next subject.

“I mean, let’s do the math,” she starts again with a finger waving head flip, now standing almost two feet tall, “consider it, if you would.  It couldn’t hurt you.  You get lost, you don’t know where you are, you don’t even know who you are, where you came from, or where you are headed for bleeps sake, you have not made headway into this puzzle, which must be some riddle, by the looks of it, perhaps it is an Infocom endgame revenge ploy, I don’t know.  I heard there were a lot of coders who felt they weren’t paid what they were owed when it all crashed.  Think on it.  You jump on a tile here, you pull a lever there, this is all very basic.  A grue is going to be next.  A grue.  Is that what you want?  I don’t like it if it has grues in store.  Have you seen a grue?  They are not to be contended with, from what I’ve heard in your purse.”

“You came ill prepared,” the Lady continued, “you brought your checkbook, which makes a very nice sort of futon. Do you remember futons, dear?  They used to be in a lot of places, now not so much.  Anyway, you have a glasses case, that you haven’t used since before social media, darling, I want to pause here to remind you that you do not have to have the exact same purse for ten years, honey.  You are allowed to get a new one, of course.  Of course you are, please dear, please do it soon.  I’ve seen a very charming Mansur Gavriel with gold flakes and silk lining… but we’ll talk about that another time... I rather like the fung shei of its phone pocket, which would make for a nice patio I could open the flap when its warm out to let some air in here.  As I was saying, you have three band-aids left in your purse, but you know what you do not have?  A sandwich, a glass of tea.  How about it?  Were you a girl scout or did you quit after the first batch of cookies came out soggie from your little tears, aye loved-one?  I’m asking for a friend, dear, don’t attack me again.  Now, this, you are here, starving, your knuckles look as if they are knots tied in a piece of rope with maladjusted and straining sinews.  Look at them!  Maladjusted and straining they are.  Well, look at you!  You’re slowing turning into a smoked turkey.”

When the Lady in the Purse finishes, she is now of an average size for a human being.  She is still sitting on the table, and the realization of what has happened has not hit her just yet.

“Janet, you silly bitch,” she began to speak in an altogether different tone, “did you notice me?  Poor thing, you barely notice anything.  Look at me!  Why didn’t you tell me I’d grown?  You could have stopped me when I was talking!  But no, I suppose I shouldn’t expect it as you have never been a proactive girl.  Anyway, it is me!  Vivian.  I’m the right size again.  I’ve made it.  That bath must have had something…  Well, I knew it, didn’t I say it had some quality to it, well, look it here!  I am an adult size.  My, my, you must be doubly depressed now that you cannot keep me locked in your filthy bag all this time.  Is that really a fossil?  Dear, I can tell by your checkbook that you could afford something less crass, not that it would suit you, I am sure that is why you carry on…  Why do I care anymore?  Oh, listen to me, darling, I can’t feel upset at you now.  I will be leaving you very shortly, once I find the exit.  I guess I have no use for you anymore since I cannot fit in your purse.  Oh!  The purse, my home, I’ll miss it for sure!”

Vivian reaches into your bag, digging carefully around the inner linings, and pulls out a bag full of about 30 or 40 diamonds.

“I got them when you weren’t looking.  My lawyers, when I get them, will be in contact.  By the way, can I borrow your coat I’m afraid I’ve outgrown my wardrobe of bubble gum wrappers,” she announces, then sits down in contemplation.

>take diamonds
[from Vivian]

You reach out to grab the diamonds from Vivian’s hands, and she swipes them from you before you can reach them.

“You would stoop that far?” Vivian said, shocked, “perhaps you have learned something from me after all.  I will give you the diamonds, Janet, I will just give them to you.  You earned it.  You showed me that you can be brave when you need to be.  That is all I ever wanted, dear.  That is all I ever wanted to see from you, is you being brave and showing initiative.”

Vivian reaches out with the diamonds in her hands.

>take diamonds
[from Vivian’s hands]

As you reach for the diamonds, Vivian pulls them back and then produces a crowbar from behind her back.

“Didn’t think I had that, did ya?”

She swings the crowbar and it slips from her hand, hitting the picture on the mantle that opens up a door to the east.  Vivian runs through it and slams the door behind her, then you hear laughing and her locking 22 locks.

Water begins to run down the rococo.

>drink water
[from the rococo]

you reach in and take a swift drink.  The decanting process stops.  The cracks in your skin start to diminish until you’re fully hydrated.  Way To Go!

You score: 1 point.
You now have a total of: 1 points.

>look

Front Entry

You are standing outside the front of a door.  There is a table nearby with a golden saucer.  To the east, a mantle juts out over a chest-of-drawers.  Upon the mantle is an old picture of an old person in a gaudy frame along with bric-a-brac that may or may not be used for other purposes to help you in your adventure.  A small empty drawer is wide open with absolutely nothing inside of it.  On the south wall a silver crustacean sits near a gold engraving depicting red wine.

>save

overwrite?
>y

[state saved]


(to be continued)

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