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#37 (+240/-27)
<khmer> holy shit
<khmer> adventure party
<khmer> You are standing in a living room. To the north lies the kitchen. There is an intense aroma coming from there.
<khmer> To the west lies the front door. Coats and shoes are piled all around.
<khmer> To the east lies a patio.
<khmer> To the south lies a hallway; over the arch is a hand-lettered sign 'BATHROOM ON RIGHT.'\
<khmer> There is a smorgasbord here.
<khmer> >
<vector40> > sex
<khmer> You don't have a sex.
<khmer> >
<vector40> east
<khmer> You stride confidently out to the patio and crash loudly through the closed sliding-glass door. Shards of glass litter the deck.
<khmer> >
<vector40> look
<khmer> You are standing on a patio with several dozen people, all of them looking at you.
<vector40> say 'Smashing!'
<khmer> 'Celebration' by Kool and the Gang is playing on recessed outdoor speakers.
<khmer> You say 'Smashing!'
<khmer> The barbecue remains locked.
<khmer> >
<vector40> look people
<khmer> 'Look, people,' you say, 'What's up with airport bathrooms?'
<khmer> >
* relsqui laughs.
* vector40 knees relsqui
<vector40> drop pants
<khmer> You don't have any pants to drop.
<vector40> !
<mewyn> o.o
<vector40> status
<khmer> You are at a cocktail party, more specifically a Scots wake for a fallen comrade. Dr. McCoy is holding forth loudly in the corner.
<khmer> Your knee is injured.
<khmer> You have:
<khmer> - a glass of chablis
<khmer> - less and less interest in the seared ahi
<khmer> >
<vector40> find girl
<mewyn> throw chablis into the next person's face I see and storm out.
<khmer> Lieutenant Saavik is animatedly conversing with your son David. She appears to be quite involved in the conversation.
<vector40> give saavik chablis
<khmer> Several female crewmen are awkwardly piling caprese salads and replicated haggis on trays, pretending they are enjoying themselves.
<vector40> (I think I've actually been at this party)
<khmer> Saavik declines your offer of wine, saying it has 'an unfortunate effect on Romulan physiology'.
<algorhythm> Set phazer to stun. Up hold the Prime Directive.
<khmer> >
<vector40> listen to conversation
<khmer> Christopher Lloyd appears halfway out of makeup. He hits you with a script revision and you die.
<vector40> what's my score
<khmer> You advanced to the rank of Deposed Admiral. You scored 0 out of a possible 15 Oscars.
<vector40> brilliant
<vector40> this has a future
<khmer> i'm kind of really disgusted with myself that i manage to turn every cocktail party joke into a star trek 3 reference
<vector40> I won't lie, it's a little concerning.