I remember this conversation fondly whenever a reference is made to text-based adventure games... You know, the types of games that all the nerdy kids (whaddup!) played on their Apple IIe's and Apple IIgs's back in the 80s. These games typically place you in a labyrinth of some sort, with various diverging paths to choose from, objects to interact with, and puzzles to solve as you progressed toward some nebulously-defined goal. You progress through the game by typing various free-text commands, such as "go north" or "pick up axe" or "kill troll." (If I recall correctly, there was even an adult-themed one my friends and I stumbled upon once, in which "Fuck Trent" was a valid command that unceasingly produced the response "Trent takes no particular interest in it, but you feel satisfied.")
At any rate, this particular conversation took place across thousands of miles in the wee hours of the morning. She was sitting in an airport somewhere (my money's on SFO), waiting for her red-eye, and I was, as always, burning the midnight oil for no particular reason. It began with a cryptic remark, completely devoid of any context -- something I would later come to recognize as one of her hallmarks -- and went like this:
Her: we are at a crossroadsExcellent.
Me: oh sure
Her: and those crossroads are necessitated by one thing
Me: paths lead north, east, and south
Her: one pivotal fact
Me: there is a flask
Me: what will you do?
Her: er. can I kill the ogre?
Me: there is no ogre
Her: damn!
Her: I will drink!
Me: thou drinkest from ye flask
Me: thou hast died
Her: damn it
Her: do over!
Me: but thou hast been revived as in immortal
Her: hurrah! now, to the north!
Me: you go north, but you trip over ye flask
Her: damn it
