You push the button.

Ding.

The table is gone. I think I’m developing a friendship with that table. It’s a very nice table, wouldn’t you agree?

…Well there’s no need to be rude about it. Sheesh.

Anyways, there’s a piano in the room now.

Ehhhh not that one.

Yeah, there we go. Much better. Much cheaper. Weird that neither of these picures have backgrounds, most do... Oh well.

There’s a little bench and everything for you to sit on while you play!

Do you know how to play piano?

As a matter of fact, you do not. It was not one of the skills your parents thought important for you to have.

You sit down and look at the keys. Sure, you have a vague knowledge of how it works and what they do. You press the key, which. Makes a little wooden thing hit a string, and the string makes a sound. Easy.

You press down on the key that’s farthest right and run your finger all the way up to the last key to the left.

Lovely. You’ve just discovered that this piano is, in fact, properly tuned.

You run your finger back down the other way, making the same sound but backwards.

Amazing.

Then you… You just sort of play around a bit, hitting a few keys, making a tune of sorts. You try to play the song that’s been stuck in your head all day, but you can’t seem to figure out what key to start with.

After a couple minutes you get bored. You look around the room, and focus on the light.

Moving the bench to the middle of the room, you climb up and carefully unscrew the light casing from the ceiling, using the shark tooth as a screwdriver. Soon the casing is loose, hanging off the ceiling, being held up by the strength of three yellow wing nuts.

You look at where it was. It’s just concrete. There’s a blue electrical box where the wires come out of the ceiling, but you can barely even fit your finger into the hole with the wires. The wires are connected to the wires on the light (with the wing nuts) and end there, but where the wires start will always be a mystery to you.

You hop back down, leaving the light hanging in the middle of the room. No real point in tearing it all the way down. That would just make the room dark.

After brushing off the shark tooth, you shove it back into your mouth.

Well done, I guess?

Long, long ago your parents thought that you should take music lessons. So they sent you off to a piano teacher, who taught you Ode to Joy and Chopsticks. Aaaand that was about it.

Or perhaps you know how to play some other musical instrument, and thus know more or less how to play a piano by default. Scales are the same, and music notes are the same. It’s just a matter of knowing where to put your fingers.

But in any case, while you certainly aren’t an expert, you can plonk out a tune.

You sit down on the bench, push a key or two to get a feel for it, and try to play the basic tune of Hall of the Mountain King. It’s not the hardest tune in the world to play, pretty repetitive really, the trick is to figure out what order to push the keys in and then just do it faster and faster without messing up.

You make a few mistakes at first, as we all do, but you quickly figure out the tune. Then you try doing it faster. And faster. And faster yet.

You start to enjoy yourself, getting sucked into the music. I enjoy it, too.

Eventually you get as fast as you can get, and have to stop. You can’t hear it, but I’m applauding. That was very well done.

You do! You enjoy playing the piano.

You sit down and try a few keys. The piano seems to be well tuned, and the foot pedals work properly.

After debating for a few seconds, you decide to play one of your songs. You put your hands on the keys, close your eyes, and play.

It… it’s beautiful. I’m nearly moved to tears.

You truly are a master pianist. Not one finger slips out of place, not one note is held too long. What you do in this room is pure art.

Only a few short minutes after you start, your song reaches its end. Your eyes open, and you look pleased with yourself. I wipe a tear away from my own eye.

Having accomplished that, you use a single hand to play Ode to Joy. After getting halfway through, you get bored and switch to Au Claire de la Lune.

You do a very good job, but it’s clear that you’re just playing for the fun of it. You aren’t seriously playing. Isn’t it interesting how emotion can come through inanimate objects?

You play a couple more songs. Playing the piano is truly something you enjoy, and you haven’t had practice for a couple days, due in no small part to being here.

Eventually, though, you get bored. You sigh, aimlessly pressing keys, and turn away.

Overall, I give you ten out of ten for a good performance.

Having enjoyed the piano for all it’s worth (to the best of your ability), you decide it is time to move on. You look at the button and…

Odd, this one smells like “Clean Linen” instead of “Crisp Waters”. I wonder why that is.

Eh, they probably just ran out of the Crisp Waters cans and used whatever else they had on hand. I still don’t know how to describe Clean Linen, so meh.

Anyways. What will you do?

DO YOU PRESS THE BUTTON? Yes No To: Testing Room Beta From: IT Desk 3 Subject: Reboot Hey, as soon as the subject leaves we’re going to do a system reboot to kick out a few bugs. Just a head’s up. To: IT Desk 3 From: Testing Room Beta Subject: Re: Reboot Ok, just make sure I’ve had time to back up the transcripts first. To: Testing Room Beta From: IT Desk 3 Subject: Re: Re: Reboot Duh. You’re getting pretty close to the end, yeah? To: IT Desk 3 From: Testing Room Beta Subject: Re: Re: Re: Reboot Pretty close. Should I send them anywhere specific first? To: Testing Room Beta From: IT Desk 3 Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Reboot Being evil, I say the taxes room. To: IT Desk 3 From: Testing Room Beta Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Reboot

Oh that is evil.

It shall be done