<!--
	Title: Gnusto Ozmoo
	Author: Randi Hacker
	Source: Computer Fun, v1(1)
	Date: April 1984
	Transcription by Steve Derby
-->

<blockquote class="larger"><em>Infocom games are not instruments of the
devil. No, they</em> want <em>you to solve them. Really
they do. It's all a matter of knowing what to look for.</em>
</blockquote>

<img class="float-right-half" src="/public/img/articles/computer-fun-gnusto-ozmoo/infocom-collage.jpg" alt="A collage of illustrations of objects from Infocom games">

***T***he following conversation took place in a bank in New York City:

First Woman: So tell me what happened after I went home.

Second Woman: Well, we discovered a gold goblet and a silver goblet in two
rooms just off the barge room. Oh, and on the barge we found a papyrus scroll
with some cuneiform message about the queen on it. Later, we practically
tripped over the dessicated skeletal remains of some poor slob who was not
as fortunate in his explorations as we were. We know we've got to do
something with the bricks in order to find the Queen's burial chamber but
we're not sure what yet. Also, we found a vast underground chamber where we
had to break a priceless statue and haul it around in order to get into the inner
sancti of Isis, Nepthys, Neutrogena, Curly and Moe, the ancient Egyptian
gods.

Third Woman (and a very puzzled woman whe was, too): I hate to intrude
but I couldn't help overhearing. Where were you?

Second Woman: East 81st St.

This was, at least, partially true. But, while we may have physically been on
81st St., we were, spiritually, sporting pith helmets, carrying backpacks and exploring
a pyramid that had been lost in the Egyptian desert sometime in the
1920's. Before you get cute and ask who could possibly be careless enough to
misplace something as large, heavy and ancient as a pyramid let us inform you
that this is a game. Not *just* a game, though. This is Infocom's *Infidel* and the
whole story was just a means of illustrating how carried away you can
get playing of these fine text adventures.

Not only can you take trips to exotic lands, you can also add colorful phrases
to your drab vocabulary. Phrases such as "Gnusto ozmoo," for example, which
in *Enchanter*anto means, "Enter the ozmoo spell in my spell book." What is
the ozmoo spell? We can say no more about that, I'm afraid. Many valuable
playing hints will be revealed in this story. What the ozmoo spell does isn't
one of them.

<figure class="float-left">
<figcaption>Text of skill<br>
<strong>One of the best things about Infocom games is
the support material that comes with them.
This items range in lunacy from Ebullion tablets
(the murder weapon?) to post cards from outer space.
</strong></figcaption>
<img src="/public/img/articles/computer-fun-gnusto-ozmoo/planetfall-packaging.jpg" alt="Planetfall packaging">
</figure>

Unlike other text adventures, Infocom games have no pictures. On screen, that
is. This makes them something like the old radio shows. (You remember radio.)
Radio shows could take place anywhere without the building of elaborate sets.
All that was needed was a few timely sound effects and one minute you could
find yourself on the frozen tundra of the Northwest Territory and, a split second
later, you'd be basking in the sun of a Carribean island, birds of paradise
chirping in the background and the sound of some attractive person slurping
a pina colada on the beach. In addition, the appearance of any character or
location was all up to you. No producer or director was able to impose his or her
idea of what someone looked like on your own -- and certainly more accurate --
idea. And this served to make horror broadcasts more horrible. Your own
monstrous creations and embodiments of evil were far more hideous than
anyone else's idea of what would scare you.

Similarly, in Infocom games, the action all takes place wherever you
choose, all the characters look the way you know they ought to and no one's
characters look like anyone else's even if you're playing the game with a partner.
In this way, Infocom games become *your* games. You feel a certain possessiveness
about them. And you become really, really involved in their intricate plots.

But just because you feel a certain personal attachment to them -- a feeling
that they're closer to you than even  your immediate family -- doesn't necessarily
mean that you can force them to bend to your will the way you can with younger
siblings. It also doesn't mean that they're easy to solve. Quite the contrary, in fact.
They can be very frustrating and no amount of threats or blackmail will
make them more accommodating, either. Of course, the more Infocom games you
play, the more familiar you become with certain standard little tricks that the
authors slip into each one. And while each game creates its own world and
denizens, there are several useful things which apply across the board and
which, if you know to look for them in advance, can help you get out of a tight
spot without resorting to ripping the diskette out of the drive and using it as a
hi-tech cocktail coaster.

<img class="float-right" src="/public/img/articles/computer-fun-gnusto-ozmoo/suspended-packaging.jpg" alt="Suspended packaging">

But first a few words about some of the Infocom plots. While each game
spins its own intricate plot, you can generalize safely when you say that in
each game you, incredibly innocent person with a mission, are dropped into
a situation which needs resolving. How you resolve it is the key issue here.

Just because Infocom games are all text doesn't mean they lack excitement.
Here are a few examples of the sorts of things you'll encounter when the disk
hits the drive:

In *Planetfall* you are a lowly Ensign Seventh Class on the doomed space ship
Feinstein. You have to explore a deserted space complex in order to find
out what your task is. You are armed only with a towel, some colored goo and
a can of spam. In *Deadline* you are an intrepid, if clumsy, detective trying to
gather evidence to incriminate someone (Ms. Dunbar, the loyal but shifty
amanuensis? Mrs. Robner, the unfaithful wife? George, the dissolute son
with the odd taste in music?) in the murder of Mr. Robner, business tycoon
and philanthropist. In *Enchanter* you are the most ineffectual of sorcerors sent on
a mission to destroy Krill, the evil warlock whose spell of darkness keeps
an entire elvish country in an oppressed state and where you meet a bunch of
hunched and hairy shapes who want nothing more than to sacrifice you to
their bloodthirsty god. And, finally, *Infidel* in which you must find the lost
pyramid of an obscure but filthy rich Egyptian queen despite the fact that
you've managed to offend everyone from your benefactress down to your Arab
work crew and have been abandoned in the desert with nothing but beef jerky,
an empty canteen and your wits, such as they are, to rely on.

<img style="max-width: 100%;" src="/public/img/articles/computer-fun-gnusto-ozmoo/infidel-packaging.jpg" alt="Infidel packaging">

Each Infocom text adventure operates in exactly the same way. You're given a
lengthy description of where you are, what objects you can see and what
exits, if any, are available to you. It generally appears in this format:

"Entrance to the Mine

This is the entrance to a mine. It's dimly lit by torches. Rotten wood plants support
the tons of earth on top of you. They don't look too solid. In fact, they
look as if they might collapse any minute. A miner's cap is on the ground
and a pick axe is stuck into a vein of coal. A half-eaten lunch suggests that
the occupant fled in some haste.

There is a pair of pantyhose here."

Once you've visited a room, however, descriptions are more abbreviated, so if
you re-enter, you're likely to get only "Mine Entrance" or "Jayne Mansfield's
Living Room" and no further description. Unless. And here we've deftly
segued into the first general rule which is: **Important things are often highlighted in
some way in the description of where you are. For example:**

<img class="float-left" src="/public/img/articles/computer-fun-gnusto-ozmoo/deadline-packaging.jpg" alt="Deadline packaging">

"Saks' Fitting Room

Your senses reel and you suddenly find yourself in the midst of a throng of at least
25 screaming matrons all in various states of undress. Mirrors line one wall. A row of
benches surrounds the room. A sallow, sour saleswoman eyes you viciously.
Clothes are strewn about the area.

On the floor is a curious slip of paper that appears to have writing on it."

The fact that the slip of paper has a paragraph all its own -- like the pantyhose
did in the previous example -- indicates that it is probably worth
examining. Sometimes it will turn out to be nothing more than a self-congratulatory
advertisement for Infocom games. More often, however, it
will be significant.

<blockquote class="float-right" style="border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;">
<em><strong>You've been abandoned in the desert with nothing
but beef jerky and your wits, such as they are,
to rely on.</strong></em>
</blockquote>

Not all clues and salient facts are that clearly set off, though. This is why the
second general rule is to **read the descriptions carefully**. Clues are often
hidden in the body of the text so your Evelyn Woods speed reading/skimming
course will do you no good here. Bear in mind, however, that sometimes the
important facts don't surface until after you've performed an action more than
once. Be alert for cues from the computer that will, in some way, suggest
that you try what you've done again. For example, say you find yourself trapped
in a Safeway after closing. Your only exit is being blocked by a mutant
cashier. You've tried chucking frozen orange juice cans at her three times.
Each time, she has backed off somewhat but hasn't fled. Try it again. Something
like this might happen on your fourth attempt:

<blockquote class="float-left" style="border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;">
<em><strong>Yes, friends, you can enlist the computer
as an unwitting accomplice in your search for the
ultimate solution.</strong></em>
</blockquote>

"Safeway

As you raise your hand to toss the last can of frozen orange juice in your
possession, you notice that the head mutant cashier is eyeing it with interest. It
has no price on it."

What you might try to do, then, is offer the can to her. This could create a
temporary diversion during which time she will ask Anthony for a price on this
item and you can make your escape. The clue is there. You've got to look.

While we're on the subject of gleaning clues from the text, you should be aware
that the computer can be used to your advantage. Yes, friends, you can enlist
the computer as an unwitting accomplice in your search for the ultimate
solution. Let's say, for example, that while touring the castle, you meet a
dwarf and you type in "Use scalpel on dwarf." Infocom games are sticklers for
details. This means that the computer will often want a clarification of your
command. It might, therefore, come back with something like "Which dwarf do
you mean? The dwarf with the inflamed appendix or the dwarf with the enchanted
contact lenses?" You may not have known that there was, in fact, a
dwarf hanging around who had in his possession magical contact lenses but
now you do and armed with this information, your search becomes all the
more purposeful. This sort of strategy is useful when it comes to doors, windows,
gardens and all sorts of elements.
<figure class="float-left-half">
<img src="/public/img/articles/computer-fun-gnusto-ozmoo/starcross-packaging.jpg" alt="Starcross packaging">
<figcaption>

## <em>Ten General Tips</em>

You say the story was too vague? You say you want
something more to the point and jucier? Here you
go, then. These are tips for specific Infocom games.
Never mind which ones. You've got to do something
for yourselves.

<ol style="padding-left: 1em; border-bottom: 1px solid;">
<li>Dying can be productive as long as you do it
correctly.</li>
<li>Close the cover before striking.</li>
<li>Opening personal mail is not a federal
	offense. It is, in fact, a good idea.</li>
<li>Freud was right. Dreams do have hidden
	meanings.</li>
<li>Don't eat the celery.</li>
<li>Don't sleep on the cot in the infirmary.</li>
<li>No matter how corny it may seem, the cleesh
	spell is not a joke.</li>
<li>Don't ask Stiles about Virginia.</li>
<li>Keeping up with current events is always a
	smart thing to do.</li>
<li>Wave at the plane. It's lonely at 36,000 feet.</li>
</ol>

</figcaption>
</figure>

There's something else important about the description of your
surroundings. As mentioned before, the computer will only give you a detailed
description the first time you enter a place. From thereon in, it will simply tell
you where you are. For example, "Laundry Room." However, if there's
something there that's important or if you've left an item or moved something,
that will be repeated. So, if you're not sure about the value of a certain object,
leave the room and then return. If something is present, it will be described
again.

Not everything is pertinent, however. Infocom always throws in a lot or red
herrings and it's your job to weed these out. There's no one way to figure out
what's going to be necessary and what's not but you ought to be aware that red
herrings are going to be planted. In fact, in *Deadline*, one of the characters actually
sits down to a meal of red herrings while in *Witness*, the Oriental houseman
is, at times, found opening a can of worms.

**Look**. Whenever you're stuck, ask for a description of the area you're in. Not
only does this give you a chance to search for some clue you may have
overlooked previously, but, if you've done something in that room, you may
find that the description has altered in some way and that change may give you
a whole new direction in which to go. For example, let's say you're carrying in
your inventory a mechanical pencil, a matchbook, a saucer, a rope and a
three-year-old-child. You go south and end up in a playground. It's your
average elementary school playground with swings, monkey bars and a seesaw.
On the seesaw is another three-year-old that "seems to be the same weight" as
the child you're carting around with you. The words "seems to be the same
weight" are in themselves a clue. Put your child on the other end of the
seesaw and then Look. What may happen is that the seesaw will balance
perfectly and a secret entrance leading to the Chemistry Lab will suddenly
appear in the middle of the kickball diamond.

The general rule about objects is that, **if objects are going to be any use
whatsoever, they will have one specific purpose.** Knowing this in advance
enables you to look at other things you find with an eye toward how they can be
used with what you already have found. For example, in your hapless meanderings,
you've come upon a perfectly good pair of pants. You already have a
pair of pants on but you suspect that eventually you're going to find a good
use for the second pair. You take them with you and, by golly, the next room you
enter houses an old man who hasn't been able to leave his room for milennia
because he hasn't got any pants. Give the pants to him. This will not only
lighten your load but will probably make the man one of your most ardent admirers
and no doubt he'll lead you to a room you otherwise couldn't have found
by yourself.

<figure class="float-right">
<img src="/public/img/articles/computer-fun-gnusto-ozmoo/witness-packaging.jpg" alt="The Witness packaging">
<figcaption>Adventure capital<br>
<strong>You may not find out just what your purpose
is in any one of these games until you're half-way
through but the means are often more fun than
the end.</strong>
</figcaption>
</figure>

Generally, once you've used something, you won't need it again.
Discard it. You can't carry everything you find and you've got to leave yourself
with some hands to carry other important things you'll find on the way. So,
once you've used the scalpel to remove the inflamed appendix of the powerful
but short dwarf, thus making him your friend, leave it somewhere. Chances are
you won't find anyone else who needs emergency surgery.

Another comment on the usefulness of what you're carrying with you: If you
find yourself in a situation for which there seems to be no solution, look at
your inventory and try to figure out what, among the things you're carrying
you (a) haven't used yet and (b) could possibly be used to extricate yourself or
open up an enchanted door or talk to a recalcitrant toad or whatever. But don't
reach for a solution. If you have to go through too much convoluted deduction,
then you're probably barking up the wrong object. While the solution doesn't
scream at you blatantly, too much over-reasoning is dangerous. The use of
objects is rarely contrived. So, for example, you will almost never have to
use the saw as a musical instrument on which to play lullabies which will put the
vicious and rabid dogs guarding the entrance to the enchanted supermarket
to sleep. The use of the saw will be more pedestrian than that.

**You can't cut corners.** In other words, if you've played *Deadline* before and
have discovered something about the murder that happens at, say, two in the
afternoon, you can't re-boot and use that information to arrest the suspect at 11
a.m. This is frowned upon by the School of Better Detectiving and besides, it's
just not done. You can't know something in advance.

Similarly, you can't know something without having proof that you know
something. So, if you confront Mrs. Robner about Steven, she'll play dumb
unless you can prove that you know that she knows about Steven. She won't talk
unless she knows that you know about Steven. You must have
something to show her that is concrete evidence that Steven exists. Then she'll
spill her guts.

In each game, certain things will tell you whether or not you're on the right
track. Either the game will say in no uncertain terms that you're really going
the wrong way, buddy, or it will be just a little more subtle. All the characters
move at a frenzied pace if you do something right. If you're not doing
something right, well, then nothing will happen. Everyone will simply sit around
knitting or reading, the stars will twinkle, the sun will rise and set,
Pinkerton will not return and you'll simply wear out your shoes and get
hoarse trying to get them to confess. If things get dull, re-boot. Things should
not get dull.
