Quotes I Like*
If you jump off a Paris bridge, you are in Seine.
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Walking on tip-toes and stretching your fingers to the max, you carefully examine the contents of the room. It is trash, all trash, smelly stinky trash.
Except... Hello, what have we here? Your eye is attracted to a glimmer underneath a... well, whatEVER that used to be, you brush it aside with your foot and triumphantly hold up a gleaming silver key, none the worse for the company it kept. You pocket the key and, unable to bear the stench further, stagger from the room using the only available passageway.
You are in a passageway running east and west (the ogre's lair is to the east). A stream flows by running north to south.
You have a key.