Sugarcane

You walk back up to make your final point, but the door is locked. The museum is closed. \n\nThere’s a single sign that reads, "Museum Hours: 9:00am – 5:00pm. Tours Recommended."\n\nGuess you'll have to come back again later.

Your reply dances on your tongue when you notice a small door, right down the hallway – and you recognize it as one of the rear exits.\n\n[[Run out of the museum as fast as you can|11a]]\n[[Make your final point before leaving|11b]]

You continue walking. This was strange, but one visit was enough. \n\nThey probably don’t even change up the exhibits too much.

You continue walking. It’ll be open again tomorrow, you think to yourself. \n\nI can just come back and do this all over again the next day.

You race toward the door as fast as you can. Something about this guy gives you the creeps… \n\nYou clear the door and hit the brisk night air, drinking it in like water. It must be 11, 11:30… You turn behind you. The night watchman didn’t even take a single step to chase you. Weird. This whole museum is weird… but even still, you can’t help feeling like you want to tell him the final point you were just about to make.\n\nYou pause for a moment. You could go back and make your final point, you could come back tomorrow... or you could never come to this strange place ever again. \n\n[[Walk back to the museum and make your final point|11a1]]\n[[Go home for the night and come back tomorrow|11a2]]\n[[Leave and never come back to this place|11a3]]

<<if either(true, false)>>\nYou spin around, taking in the impossibly large space. “I see your point,” you say, only halfway understanding. \n\n“But my friend Ken told me about this museum, and he never saw anything like this. Imagine, the both of us having completely different experiences, in the same museum – [[doesn’t that seem worthwhile to you?"|7]]\n<<else>>\nYou look around, your eyes searching the far corners of the ceilings for some intangible answer. \n\n“But what if I came expecting to see something that wasn’t on the tour that day? I’ll give you an example – my friend Chris came here, and couldn’t shut up about the Golden Papillion room. I was wandering around this freaking place for three hours before I stopped to shut my eyes without finding it! Don’t you think that’s aggravating – and [[maybe even false advertising?”|7]]\n<<endif>>

<<if either(true, false)>>\n“You must’ve been passed out like that for hours.” He crosses his arms, shaking his head at you. “You really shouldn’t be here this late without the tour. This is no place for [[someone by themselves."|4]]\n<<else>>\nHe sighs. “I don’t know how I didn’t see you there, I guess it’s my fault… look, we shut the doors hours ago, so you have to come with me. It’s really not safe for you to be here [[without the tour.”|4]]\n<<endif>>

You turn to the man, ready to make one final point – when something heavy slams into the back of your skull and everything goes wobbly as you crumple to the floor. \n\nThen the sensation of being dragged, and the hard plastic of that blue chair as someone carefully drapes you into the seat. \n\n"...always have to argue," you hear someone mumble. [["Well, let's try it again."|Start]]

<<if either(true, false)>>\n"Hey – wake up!" You hear sounds out of the fog of sleepiness, but the words behind them don’t take shape – until something pokes you sharply in the sternum two times. \n\nYou grab your chest out of pure instinct, the momentum toppling you out of the blue plastic chair you apparently [[nodded off in.|2]]\n<<else>>\n“Excuse me – are you all right?” The words warble into your ear, but it’s the soft tap on the shoulder that rouses you. \n\n“I’m sorry, but the museum is closed.” You look around, blinking the nappy crust from your eyelashes. [[Your neck aches with stiffness.|2]]\n<<endif>>

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<<if either(true, false)>>\n“The museum is closed! How long have you been here?” The night watchman looks the surly sort – a gruff, stout fellow in an archaic policeman’s uniform, buttoned way too tight. Must be a themed costume for the museum, you think. \n\nYou blink the tired from your eyes and look around. Relics from old New York. Ancient subway posters, historic cobblestones – [[things like that.|3]]\n<<else>>\nYou unwrap your crossed arms over your thick wool coat, looking up to meet the gaze of your waker. You rub your eyes twice just to make sure, but you were right the first time – he’s a tall, skinny fellow, wrapped in what looks like a bedsheet that was hung out to dry in the middle of a paintball match. \n\nStrange, but appropriate enough for the museum. You take a look around and begin to remember - the surrealist landscapes, headless sculptures, stark paintings unidentifiable as art objects or empty frames. Things [[like that.|3]]\n<<endif>>

<<if either(true, false)>>\nHe chuckles, motioning for you to follow. “You sleepwalkers. You always say the same thing! You have no idea how museums work.” He leads you to a cavernous gallery, with magnificent granite columns reaching high to a breathtaking ceiling. \n\n“You see this?” he says, his voice dissolving into the rafters. “This is part of the tour. You know what isn’t? That,” he says, pointing to the neighboring room. You have to rub your tired eyes once more to see it properly, but from here it looks like a dimly-lit storage closet. \n\n“That’s the ‘Auxiliary Hallway Gallery.’ Usually you have to go through there to get here. If you weren’t on the tour, [[you’d have no idea this room existed."|6]]\n<<else>>\nHe smiles gently, and you recognize it as the smile of a patient schoolteacher. “It’s funny, you somnambulists always seem to… well, follow me.” \n\nYou follow him down a thin hallway drenched in dark red paint. You make a left, then another left, then a right – and then through another small hallway. He points to a massive rotunda through the small entrance. \n\n“Do you see that?” he says, his voice close in and cramped in the hallway, expanding to fill up the enormous space as you both step through. \n\n“This is the Grand Exhibition Hall. Usually, that hallway gallery is the only way to get into there. For solo wanderers like yourself, there’s [[no chance you would ever see it exploring by yourself.”|6]]\n<<endif>>

<<if either(true, false)>>\nYou yawn, unable to constrain yourself. "Why not? It’s just a museum. I can find my way out. Didn’t mean to cause trouble, just [[point me to the exit."|5]]\n<<else>>\nYou roll your shoulders, taking your time to stand up of your own accord. How long were you even asleep… finally, you remember the guard was saying something. \n\n“I… wait, what’s the big deal? I’m not an idiot, just [[show me where the door is.”|5]]\n<<endif>>

<<if either(true, false)>>\nHe shakes his head, motioning for you to follow him through a large red doorway at the opposite end of the room. \n\n“I’ll tell you one thing – people come on the tour, they see some things, they have a nice time, they leave – but there’s so much they don’t see. That they’d need to come back for.” You glance to the left. Black and white photos of past mayors, parades, the island of Manhattan, lush with hillsides… \n\n“Imagine how much more we could do if we didn’t have to worry about you sleepwalkers messing up the tour all the time. Instead, we have to worry about auxiliary hallways, and alternate galleries, and all of this other crap that most people don’t even see. [[Doesn’t that seem like wasted effort?"|8]]\n<<else>>\nHe looks off to the side deferentially before beckoning you with a finger to follow. You trail him through an archway marked by reflective hanging beads, spinning off brightness as they rotate in the thin fluorescent lighting. \n\n“Everything you see here was specially curated.” You pass a recessed pit filled with scattered glass balls, each coated in unique plaid patterns. Driftwood animals sculpted into perverse stances, right at eye level. \n\n“All of this here, everything you see, all the effort of hundreds of individuals.” He stops, losing himself in the thick blackness of an orb with a mountain carved out of the core. You stare at it for a moment before realizing it’s entirely made of layers of paper piled on top of each other. \n\n“All of this work… and so many people never even get a chance to see it. But, if we were able to focus on making a better tour – well, then everybody would see it. And nobody's hard work would go unnoticed. [[Do you understand?”|8]]\n<<endif>>

Ben Serviss

<<if either(true, false)>>\nHis fists tighten. Something you said must have made him upset somehow… \n\n“No – look, I’ve thought it over many, many times. The best way, the only way, is to find out what people want, what any given person’s most optimal experience would be, and find out how to give it to them. Either by directly asking, or by tailoring it somehow. Everything else is just [[groundless theory!"|10]]\n<<else>>\nHe nods, carefully considering your words. \n\n“Interesting… Though I wonder if you can do better. If you could, maybe, isolate exactly what somebody would get the most value out of, and find a way to present it to them… either up front, or sneakily in the background. [[Then you might really have something.”|10]]\n<<endif>>

Tour Guides and Wanderers: The Replayable Narrative Dilemma

<<if either(true, false)>>\nYou roll your eyes. “Sure, that’s nice. But I don’t like tours. And to be honest, I don’t care about talking to friends. [[I want to see something cool – for me."|9]]\n<<else>>\nYou take in the surrounding art, and glance back to the night watchman. \n\n“I think I see. So more people would be able to see everything… but on the other hand, if I have a different story to tell my friend, something I experienced that he missed, then that telling is something else we can share from this. [[Without having to have been there ourselves, even.”|9]]\n<<endif>>