Tidying is a game of diminishing returns. It pays for itself, at the rate in which you find change. Any area is suitably tidy once you no longer expect to find more money by tidying it further. I have been tidying for £6.71 and 31 seconds, and I think I'll tidy for another £2 before this room is completely tidy.
So what happened was we saved this old dude from some street buggerers. I mean, it wasn't really hero stuff per se, just bravado. This crusty old guy with his half-trenchcoat jacket was pretty grateful to the three of us and gave us each a hardcandypass. They are little gobstoppers, a bit smaller than a golf ball. They have a tough white exterior and a shiny glaze. Marbled across one side is the secret emblem, a bullseye target with a red dragon at the centre. These would allow us access to the central research library. "Once you eat them," he explained, "you won't be able to get in any more." And that was that.
Today I woke up with a belly pain that felt distinctly ovular. The logical conclusion is that I may have been impregnated by the beaksters and will soon lay some sort of laser-guarded egg which will hatch in to a beakéd robotic death contraption. It will have black eyes and like all beaksters will be granted the unnatural ability to fly and reign from above. The clock is ticking.
I was bored and my friends annoyed me so I started making a little piano playing game for all those of you with midi keyboards out there which is probably none of you.
Here's a screenshot or whatever.
I'll call it "piano in the ass" unless I find a better name.
Enough is enough! I've had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!1