Gallery Gal's Architectural Adventure

You are Gallery Gal! Bane of evil-doers, scourge of n'er-do-wells... ...except, actually, nobody even knows you have superpowers. [[RECALL EPIC SUPERHERO ORIGIN STORY]] [[CONTINUE PRESENT-DAY STORYLINE]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|START GALLERY]]

Once upon a time, in an unassuming antiques shop, mild-mannered Gilda Garrison was examining a dusty old brass lamp. She gave it a gentle rub, and to her astonishment a genie popped out! "I shall grant you one wish," explained the genie, "and one wish alone." [[MAKE A WISH]] [[DON'T MAKE A WISH]] [[DEMAND TO KNOW WHY YOU AREN'T GETTING THREE WISHES]]

You, Gallery Gal (or rather, your mild-mannered alter ego Gilda Garrison), are sitting in a classy artisan coffee place waiting for a friend-of-a-friend you will, quote, "like, totally hit it off with!" You have the sneaking suspicion that this friend-of-a-friend is actually more of an acquaintance-of-a-friend and that Brenda may have been exaggerating about how totally you would hit it off. You feel bad about doubting Brenda's judgement, but that would be a very Brenda thing to do. Also, you're not really looking to meet anyone at the moment. If it happens, great, but you only recently got superpowers and that's been a bit of an upheaval. This feels like an awkward time to fit somebody new into your life. [[KEEP WAITING]] [[LEAVE THE CAFE]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|CAFE GALLERY]]

You, uh... You do that. Gallery Gal - non-superhero name "Gilda Garrison," not that you invited that little nugget of information - suddenly vanishes from existence. In her place (and actually for quite a considerable area around it), there appears an elegantly designed art gallery. Already furnished with a world-class selection of exhibits, it would be the envy of any city. Or it would if it hadn't appeared inside a classy artisan coffee place a fraction of its size. This aberration of physics is swiftly resolved with an explosion of masonry yielding the force of several atomic bombs. Several city blocks are vapourised in an instant. The gallery itself is pretty much pulverised by falling debris too, so it isn't the boon to the local arts scene that it might have been. It takes six weeks and a panel of experts to determine it even was an art gallery. Up until then everybody's dead certain that aliens did it. Anyway. The whole thing is an international tragedy and it's all your fault. If it's any consolation, though, there's absolutely no way anybody can ever work that out. THE END

This is a flashback. You don't get to pick stuff you didn't do the first time around. [[TRY AGAIN|RECALL EPIC SUPERHERO ORIGIN STORY]]

This is a flashback. You don't get to pick stuff you didn't do the first time around. But also that was an exceptionally boring option you just chose, so I won't waste my time giving you a do-over. THE END

"Why don't I get three wishes?" asked Gilda. "Budget cuts," the genie grunted. "Now do you want your wish or not?" One wish was better than nothing, Gilda supposed. And it wasn't hard to narrow down the options: she'd always wanted some kind of superpower. [[ASK SLOWLY AND CLEARLY FOR INVISIBILITY]] [[ASK SLOWLY AND CLEARLY FOR SUPER-SPEED]] [[SNEEZE BECAUSE OF THE LAMP DUST, SPRAYING SNOT EVERYWHERE WITH A NOISE THAT MIGHT CONCEIVABLY BE INTERPRETED AS A REQUEST FOR THE ABILITY TO TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY AT WILL, BUT ONLY ONE TIME, AND NOT BACK AGAIN]]

Haha! You wish. [[GUESS AGAIN|DEMAND TO KNOW WHY YOU AREN'T GETTING THREE WISHES]]

Nope. [[GUESS AGAIN|DEMAND TO KNOW WHY YOU AREN'T GETTING THREE WISHES]]

"Huh," said the genie. "Nobody's ever wished for that before." And in that moment, Gilda Garrison became the famed (but not really) and powerful (in a very niche, not-particularly-useful sort of way)... GALLERY GAL! Now that you're all caught up on the Gallery Gal franchise, you can... [[CONTINUE PRESENT-DAY STORYLINE]]

Brenda's friend/acquaintance still hasn't shown up. You've been sitting in here a while now even though you haven't actually bought anything. [[BUY A COFFEE BECAUSE THE BARISTA IS GIVING YOU EVILS|BUY A COFFEE]] [[DON'T BUY A COFFEE - GIVE THE BARISTA EVILS RIGHT BACK]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|CAFE GALLERY]]

Well, that was deeply futile. Classic Brenda! You try to decide what to do with the rest of your day. [[PICK UP SOME FOOD]] [[VISIT A MUSEUM]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|INDECISION GALLERY]]

Gilda Garrison suddenly vanishes from existence. In her place (and actually for quite a considerable area around it), there appears an elegantly designed art gallery. Already furnished with a world-class selection of exhibits, it would be the envy of any city. Or it would if it hadn't appeared inside a classy artisan coffee place a fraction of its size. This aberration of physics is swiftly resolved with an explosion of masonry yielding the force of several atomic bombs. Several city blocks are vapourised in an instant. The gallery itself is pretty much pulverised by falling debris too, so it isn't the boon to the local arts scene that it might have been. It takes six weeks and a panel of experts to determine it even was an art gallery. Up until then everybody's dead certain that aliens did it. Anyway. The whole thing is an international tragedy and it's all your fault. If it's any consolation, though, there's absolutely no way anybody can ever work that out. THE END

You buy a coffee but NOT a little muffin. You are a bastion of honour and justice and you won't be bullied into spending extra just by subtle social cues. Also the coffee is really expensive. What even is cold brew? You would have looked it up on your phone while you were waiting but there wasn't enough of a queue. You've just sat back down at your table when you hear the old-timey bell over the cafe door give an antiquated jingle. There's a guy in here, looking around in that way people do when they're looking for someone but they don't actually know what that someone looks like, so they're hoping that person will simply notice that they're looking for someone. That person is you. You've noticed it. [[WAVE POLITELY]] [[ASK "ARE YOU CLINT?"]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|CAFE GALLERY]]

Do kids these days even still use the idiom "giving you evils"? I don't know. I'm narrating a superhero story. I probably still say "egad." Anyway. The barista is giving you a funny look because you're taking up a table without having bought anything, so you give him a funny look because you're legitimately waiting for someone and you'll both probably get coffee //and// one of those little muffins once he gets here, but the funny look you're giving him must only vindicate the funny look he's giving you because suddenly he steps out from behind the counter and walks over to you. "I'm sorry," says the barista, "but if you aren't buying anything you're going to have to leave." [[BUY A COFFEE]] [[LEAVE THE CAFE]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|CAFE GALLERY]]

You wave. He does this little double-take of surprise - as if he weren't absolutely depending on you making yourself known to him in just such a way - and smiles. And wow, what a smile! Clint is //hot//. He's got a huge chin and this adorable little curl of hair in the middle of his forehead. You'd think he were a superhero, except he's got glasses, and you can't think of any superheroes who wear glasses. [[POINT OUT THAT HE'S LATE]] [[POLITELY IGNORE HIS LATENESS]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|DATE GALLERY]]

"Are you Clint?" you ask. "Clint Cark, that's right." He offers a hand to shake. "Charmed." You can't help but feel as though the introduction is sort of formal and businessy, but you also don't mind that much because Clint is //hot//. He's got a huge chin and this adorable little curl of hair in the middle of his forehead. You'd think he were a superhero, except he's got glasses, and you can't think of any superheroes who wear glasses. [[POINT OUT THAT HE'S LATE]] [[POLITELY IGNORE HIS LATENESS]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|DATE GALLERY]]

"You're late, Mr. Cark." You say it in a way that's obviously jokey, but the fact that you say it at all still makes it clear that you've been kept waiting. "Sorry," he says. "I'm a reporter, you see. There was some...breaking news." He says that in a way that's sort of jokey. Like it's a one-liner that hinges on the news being that he was breaking something. Wait...//is// Clint a superhero? [[ASK IF HE'S A SUPERHERO]] [[CONSIDER THAT YOU PROBABLY DON'T WANT TO RAISE THE POSSIBILITY OF PEOPLE IN THIS CAFE BEING SUPERHEROES]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|DATE GALLERY]]

You politely ignore his lateness, but he brings it up himself! What a guy. "Sorry I'm late," he says. "I'm a reporter, so occasionally I have to run off to attend to some...breaking news." He definitely says it with a dot dot dot. He doesn't literally say "dot dot dot," but it's apparent that if it were written in a speech bubble, there would be an ellipsis before "breaking news." It would be a meaningful ellipsis. An ellipsis that suggested he had been making the news rather than reporting it. Wait...//is// Clint a superhero? [[ASK IF HE'S A SUPERHERO]] [[CONSIDER THAT YOU PROBABLY DON'T WANT TO RAISE THE POSSIBILITY OF PEOPLE IN THIS CAFE BEING SUPERHEROES]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|DATE GALLERY]]

"Are you saying 'breaking news' like that because you're secretly a superhero and the news is that you were breaking, like, a doomsday device or something?" Clint Clark blinks at you. "It's cool if you are," you explain. "It's just that was an odd way to say the thing otherwise." Clint raises a hand to his forehead. "It's true!" he cries. "For years I've been living a double life! The toil! The pressure!" He pauses to strike another dramatic pose, appparently unaware that several cafe patrons are by now watching. "By day, I am the mild-mannered Clint Cark. By night..." (he takes his glasses off) "the noble Captain Caulk! I stop evil in its tracks with my grout of goodness, but the one crack I can't seal is that of my broken heart!" Wow. That's a lot to dump on you in the first minute after meeting him. But still, you definitely have a lot in common. [[REVEAL YOUR OWN SUPERHERO IDENTITY]] [[SAY "I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT'S LIKE" AND NERVOUSLY SIP YOUR COFFEE]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|DATE GALLERY]]

"That's fair enough," you say. "It hasn't been that long anyway." "That's a relief." He gives you a significant look. "I often have to attend to...breaking news." He's definitely adding in a dot dot dot when he says that. Either Clint Cark has a very specific sort of speech impediment, or he's secretly a superhero and wants to be not-so-secret about that. [[ASK IF HE'S A SUPERHERO]] [[CONTINUE NOT PULLING THREADS REGARDING SUPERHERO-RELATED TOPICS]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|DATE GALLERY]]

Clint Clark watches in horror as you suddenly vanish from existence. In your place (and actually for quite a considerable area around it), there appears an elegantly designed art gallery. Already furnished with a world-class selection of exhibits, it would be the envy of any city. Or it would if it hadn't appeared inside a classy artisan coffee place a fraction of its size. This aberration of physics is swiftly resolved with an explosion of masonry yielding the force of several atomic bombs. Needless to say, Clint does not survive. Several city blocks are vapourised in an instant. The gallery itself is pretty much pulverised by falling debris too, so it isn't the boon to the local arts scene that it might have been. It takes six weeks and a panel of experts to determine it even was an art gallery. Up until then everybody's dead certain that aliens did it. Anyway. The whole thing is an international tragedy and it's all your fault. If it's any consolation, though, there's absolutely no way anybody can ever work that out. THE END

"I feel the same way," you say. "No!" he cries, dramatically. "Nobody can understand my struggle." "No, seriously. I mean, it's not //exactly// the same, but a while ago I accidentally summoned this genie, and..." "Truly I am an island!" wails Clint Cark, a.k.a. Captain Caulk. "The hero the city deserves, but not the hero it needs." You know what? Clint may be hot but he's also an absolute douchebag. You no longer feel remotely bad about doubting Brenda's judgement. [[LEAVE THE CAFE]] [[EXPLAIN TO CLINT THAT YOU LITERALLY HAVE A SECRET SUPERPOWER AS WELL, YOU JUST DON'T GO ON MELODRAMATIC RANTS ABOUT IT (PARTLY BECAUSE IT'S SECRET)]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|CLINT GALLERY]]

"Of course not!" cries Clint. "Nobody can understand my struggle." "Uh-huh." You nod in a way that you hope expresses no interest whatsoever in learning more. "Truly I am an island!" wails Clint Cark, a.k.a. Captain Caulk. "The hero the city deserves, but not the hero it needs." You know what? Clint may be hot but he's also an absolute douchebag. You no longer feel remotely bad about doubting Brenda's judgement. [[LEAVE THE CAFE]] [[EXPLAIN TO CLINT THAT YOU LITERALLY HAVE A SECRET SUPERPOWER AS WELL, YOU JUST DON'T GO ON MELODRAMATIC RANTS ABOUT IT (PARTLY BECAUSE IT'S SECRET)]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|CLINT GALLERY]]

You stir your coffee with the little wooden stick they give you. "I suppose that's inevitable when you're a reporter." "You know," he says, squinting at you, "you seem awfully reluctant to raise the possibility that I'm saying 'breaking news' in a significant way because I'm secretly a superhero and the news is that I'm doing superhero things. Are //you// a superhero yourself?" "Wha--?" you splutter. You don't manage the "t" because you are so surprised that you SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY. THE END

"No, listen--" "No one else can carry this burden I have to bear!" Okay, you know what? Two things: One: This conversation is unsalvageable. It isn't even a conversation any more. It's just Clint whinging at you, and you have no interest in allowing it to continue it any further. Two: Does Captain Caulk even have superpowers? You've already heard of him, and you're pretty sure he's one of those superheroes with themed gadgets rather than one with actual supernatural abilities. With that in mind, your powers of one-off art gallery transformation mean you're in a better position to play the dramatic "My awesome gift is actually a curse" card than he is. [[LEAVE THE CAFE]] [[POUR SCALDING COFFEE ON CLINT'S CROTCH (THEN LEAVE THE CAFE)]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|CLINT GALLERY]]

Okay. So you have one chance to turn into an art gallery - one chance alone - and after that you are stuck that way. From then on, you are an art gallery forever. And you choose to use this power to avoid talking to some douchebag your friend Brenda set you up with? Actually, fair enough. You spontaneously transform into an art gallery. Clint is instantly obliterated, his very constituent atoms replaced by a remarkably down-to-earth selection of abstract art. Seriously, people still come in and say "What is this, even? My dog could paint this," but they're the ones who seem unreasonable because actually there is a clear rationale behind each piece and they're all unquestionably well executed. But unfortunately, far more of them say "My word, can you remember when this art gallery just appeared out of nowhere? How terrifying! All those poor people who were in the way..." But still you don't have to talk to Clint because you are that art gallery, so that's a win overall! THE END

You dump your (presumably ironically named) cold brew directly onto Clint's man-bulge. Nobody questions your decision, but you get the impression that one woman in the corner of the room may be live-tweeting the thing. You hope you don't become a meme. [[LEAVE THE CAFE]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|DATE GALLERY]]

You head over to the supermarket. You regret not getting a little muffin or something at the coffee place. It's a bad idea to go shopping on an empty stomach. You're going to end up buying steak or something ridiculous just because you haven't eaten yet and it looks good. Actually, you're just going to take a look at the steak because that sounds //sooooo good//. And actually, it's on offer! This was the smartest dumb idea you've ever had. You pick up a steak with a spectacularly good discount, then grab the other various bits and pieces you remember scribbling down on your shopping list back home. You don't have it with you, but you feel as though you can remember about 80% of it and the other stuff wasn't urgent. You scan everything through the self-checkout machine, whip out your card and...oh. Oh wow. That's more than you were expecting. It seems there's quite a discrepancy between the price of the steak on the system and the price of the steak on the shelf. It's possible you've picked up the wrong sort. [[PAY FOR YOUR SHOPPING]] [[PUT THE STEAK BACK]] [[SPONTANEOUSLY TRANSFORM INTO AN ART GALLERY|SUPERMARKET GALLERY]]

(display: "END")

Decisions are hard. Instead of picking between two things that make virtually no difference to anything in the grad scheme of things, you elect to spontaneously transform into an art gallery. The effect on the surrounding shops and businesses is //devastating//. The little artisan coffee place you just left is obliterated. The constituent atoms of everybody in a 500 metre radius are assimilated into a stylish venue for the work of contemporary cubist painter John Jackson. It's very confusing. Nobody is quite able to tell whether the paitnings on display (all of which are already on show at other galleries across the globe) should be considered exact duplicates of precisely equal value, or if they are merely extremely accurate forgeries. The more pressing question is whether the staff at the gallery - summoned into existence by your hideous transformation - are real human beings or merely soulless abominations compelled to guide school tours through the wings in a nightmarish parody of humankind. THE END

(display: "END")

"YAAAAAAAARGH!!!" you yell, eloquently articulating your dissatisfaction with this establishment and its opaque pricing system. Your flesh expands, brickifying into a fancy art deco exhibition space. In the confines of the supermarket, it's absolutely devastating but ultimately quite an improvement. THE END

''//Gallery Gal's Architectural Adventure// is a work in progress, and you have reached the end for now. Thank you for playing. [[Click here if you would like to restart the game.|Start]] Alternatively, you can use the back button in the sidebar to rewind through previous choices. Find more work by Damon L. Wakes at (link-reveal: "damonwakes.wordpress.com")[(open-url: "https://damonwakes.wordpress.com/")].''