Conversation · Trash Container

A cruel jest... there must be something...

All you see is a broken mug with a racist depiction of the yellow man frolicking in saffron.

I knew it. (Withdraw from the dumpster's cavernous depths.)

I am into hi-fi!

That's too bad, because none of those things are actually in there. There's just food waste and crisp wrappings.

Where?! I can't see it.

Never mind, look at that fat string of Archipelagoan pearls snaking amidst the banana peels!

"We're just in time." The lieutenant peers in. "This hasn't been emptied for over a week."

What's this?

Just a feeling. A warning from some part of you.

"Another time maybe." [Leave.]

"No-no. We need to investigate now." Just like that, he opens the lid.

Didn't I just have a premonition that there's something in there?

There is. But you won't like it. Sweat forms on your brow, your hand is still on the lid...

Yeah! Crack it open Hobocop -- this is your time to shine. Dive into that dumpster for extra content!

You force open the sealed metal lid with your goddamn bare hands. It is open now. It could not resist your supra-human strength.

No matter how strong you think you are, this is really not something you should be attempting to do with your bare hands.

Still not force time. You're just not getting there... the prybar is primed, but you lack the ability.

Force time isn't happening. You've jammed the prybar under the lid but it just isn't bending.

WHAT IS THIS? Your triceps ache for the metal to bend, but it resists... this calls for a potent curse to help break it's resistance. Utter the POWER WORDS!

Kick the container.

Unsatisfying. Hurtful. You hear a ringing sound, but not quite hollow. The can seems to be full...

Full of itself. Content, happy you failed. This snickering trash container is having a grand old time.

Give up.

"Cuno's gotta say, man, that was unimpressive. The fuck were you trying to do?"

Say nothing.

"Figures."

"Fuck you, Cuno."

"Yeah, I know but what were you trying to do pig?"

"I was trying to open the trash."

"No you weren't. If you were you'd stick that shitto..." He makes a move with his hands. "In that staple or some shit. That little ring that has the lock in it. Then twist that shit, it's the weak spot."

"What are you his fuckin' sidekick now, Cun'? Don't listen to him pig, you were good."

"That's it, I can't pry it open."

"The strange thing is -- we don't have to." He smiles. "We have the key remember. The manager gave you the key."

"No he don't! He fuckin' lost it! The ape's lost the key too."

"Unreal."

"We should find his gun and kill someone with it."

"But I wanted to use the prybar... I feel like I'm losing out on something not using the prybar."

"You are. The prybar is quite satisfying and handy." He nods, without the slightest hint of irony. "But you are just not good enough at prying. We should get the keys."

Let it go.

The dumpster is goading you. It thinks you're weak.

"Let's ask the manager for the key, this is clearly not working."

Hang from the prybar with all your weight.

There's a creaking sound as the prybar slips under the lid. You hang from it, like a moron, huffing and puffing. Clearly the technique is wrong -- but nothing else comes to mind.

"The FUCK kind of metal is this, this is fucking SHIT!"

"The quality of metal is not the problem. From what I see, it's sturdy enough."

He's enjoying your little failure. He finds it amusing, he's revelling in the sweaty rage on your face.

"Quit pushin' the blame on the metal piggo. Metal's fine. It's your arm that's shit."

Open the lid again.

Open the padlock with the key.

With a well-oiled crack the lock pops open. It should now be possible to simply raise the lid...

This trash container is locked. The sliding lid has a padlock that says "Whirling-in-Rags."

There's something in there. Not necessarily connected to the case -- but still...

The trash container has somehow been unlocked. It's all for you, Harry. The smell of rotten food rises up as you climb inside. This is where you belong...