Normality чит-файл №2

My name is Kent Knudsen, and I'm being held captive in my own apartment
basically for having a mind of my own. I've never been accused of that
before. I just got out of the Blue Pens, where they made me listen to
elevator music for a week straight. It was bogus, but at least it wasn't
Manilow. Anyway, I've just been locked in my pad with a Norm Trouper on
patrol outside my door. This is NOT bitchen. I always believed there was
something wrong with Neutropolis, and now after doing hard time listening
to soft music, I'm totally sure of it.

While I was in the Pen I received a note from someone who was on my wave
length, someone who wants to change how we live, and I'm all for it.
People before me who have decided to go against the grain have been thrown
into the Pens never to return, but it's a chance a brave dude such as
myself has decided to take. If you can't blast Brian Deluge on your stereo
and disturb your neighbors, what good is living anyway?

So, I'm am keeping this record of my journey just in case I fail and I'm
tortured, like forced to part my hair or something. Excuse me for not
being overly detailed, but if this were to fall into the wrong hands, the
revolution would be crushed.

DAY 1
MY PAD
Well, here I am locked in my own pad. If I'm going to get anything done, I
can't do it from here! I must get out of here, but how? There's a Norm
Trouper right outside, and he says I must watch my TV 24 hours a day. I
must make him believe I'm still here, even when I'm not. I could just
leave my TV on, but it's a bigger piece of junk than my stereo and keeps
turning off every few minutes.

Looking around, I'm thinking I need supplies. I'm also thinking I need a
bath, but that's another story. You can't have too many supplies, so I
start shoving things into my backpack.

Now, where to start? The note on the floor and the ad on TV gave me the
answer. Unfortunately, to get a job at this location requires me to be
extra large, when I'm extra medium. All I can say, wardrobe says
everything. Maybe if I wear something that says "fat", I'll be perceived
as such. I'll check my duds.

Bogus! The TV went off again! I can't get far if I have to kick it back on
every two minutes. I know that remote's around somewhere. I left it under
something, but where?

What am I, mental? Big deal if I have the remote, the TV will still keep
going off. I need to find a way to keep pushing the "on" button. Duh, it's
been right in my face, something that never tires of doing a repeated
task. Bingo! Instant permanently on TV!

Brain freeze! I almost forgot something, like cold hard cash. Every
revolution needs a budget. Without a government grant, I need to dig up
some of my own. Let's see, where am I always finding loose change in this
apartment? Of course, digging here always provides some serious cashage.
This provided a few surprises, include a funky little thingamajig. I
should take it.

There's also a few things in the bathroom I could use. It couldn't hurt to
have a weapon. However in this case it did hurt, my eyes are burning.
Major smellage! Better go back into the restroom and grab something to
wipe my eyes. It also could be handy later.

Now I think I can get out of here, but the door isn't the answer. That
leaves one of two ways, and I'm not squeezing out of that dungy, smelly
old vent. Not after what happened last time.

WINDOW WASHER CRADLE
Super cool, I'm out! But how do I get down? I'll talk to this cat in the
yellow suit, maybe he'll do me a favor. His name's Dai, and he has a lot
of cool info you should listen to. However, like most people, he'll do a
favor only for a favor in return. Seems he want's coffee, and milky coffee
at that. Well, back to the apartment.

BACK IN MY PAD
Bogus mania, not a coffee bean in sight. I had an old can a couple weeks
ago, but it was a cockroach blend and wasn't too appetising so I threw it
out. I boiled some water while I looked around for a coffee substitute. I
found something that looks milky, but dare I? Why not, it's better than a
cockroach lattщ. I did a little brewing and brought the concoction out to
Dai. Old people loose their taste buds anyway, right? OUTSIDE Bad taste
buds an all, Dai kept his word and lowered me to the street. Cool dude,
just has a major wardrobe problem.

Now I can start my quest, and all clues point to the Plush Rest factory as
a quest starting point. I hop on the bus and trek down to the old factory.

PLUSH REST FACTORY
Spooky looking place, why would anyone want to work here? Before going
inside, I snooped around a bit. One thing of interest, other than the
river that looks like the inside of my nose on a cold day in autumn, is
the chute above the dumpster. Take a look. The note I was given when I was
in the Pen said something about a dumpster. Due to the amount of
footprints around this one, I could tell it was a hotbed of activity.
Maybe if I could find a way into these dumpsters.

Before I go inside, I should dress for the occasion of a job interview.
Maybe something to convince people I'm not as small as I seem.

Once inside, I was able to outwit the secretary and I was in the
Hospitality Center checking the scene. Since coffee has been such a large
part of my day, I was totally craving a cup of Joe. Every Hospitality
Center has a coffee machine, and this particular one was a piece of art.

After a carefully planned mishap, I found myself face to gut with Mr.
Brinkler, furniture testing boss man. He had some interesting things to
say, so listen carefully, and try to tune out the opera playing in his
office. I was then allowed to roam about the factory, most likely due to
my honest face.
                               
I needed to find the source that was dumping trash into the dumpsters. In
the waste room, I found a Norm Trouper guarding a control panel. I tried
to use the panel, but was rudely interrupted. By taking to this looser, I
learned how to get into the dumpsters, but unless I wanted to be chopped
liver I needed to make a few smooth moves.

To get this Norm dude to leave his post I needed some debris, and by
talking to a tester in the groaty locker room I found exactly where to get
some. Only problem is, it's protected well.

By looking at the overly protected debris, looking up gives me the answer.
Now, just how do I get up there. What specific room needs an air vent more
than any other, to expel many unpleasant smells?

Funny, when I started my day I never figured I'd be crawling around in a
smelly air duct, but here I am. As long as I'm here, I might as well
collect whatever I find. I'm not even going to ask what a belt is doing up
here. The thought sickens me, gross me out! Eventually I found the exit I
was looking for and walla, instant debris. Seems like a lot of work to get
my hands on garbage.

Sometimes I amaze even myself with my brilliantness. Not to give things
away in case I'm caught and this book is used against me in a court of
lopsided Norm law, I will be cleverly subtle. I needed to get the waste
engineer from the control panel long enough to turn off the grinders, so I
could take a E-ticket ride into the dumpsters. Hmmm, more work to wind up
IN garbage. I'm sensing a theme here. Anyway, my brilliant plan involved
bed repair, garbage, and a few Z's. You can find a way to POWER that brain
of yours and be the RECEIVER of a brilliant idea, with me being the
SENDER. One added bonus, I stopped that groaty opera music from playing.

Now with that annoying Norm off in La La Land, I'm able to turn off those
pesky grinders. I jumped on, and off I went. What a ride!