{
(set: $poop to 50)
(set: $sleep to 50)
(set: $food to 50)
(set: $mood to 50)
(set: $poop_times to 0)
(set: $sleep_times to 0)
(set: $food_times to 0)
(set: $mood_times to 0)
(set: $noise to "The crylump has needs. Needs you are fully prepared to meet.
You got this.")
(display: "main")
}
{
(if: $poop <=0 or $sleep <=0 or $food <=0 or $mood <=0)[(go-to: "honeybun")]
}
{
<table>
<tr>
<td id="verbs">[[FOOD THE CRYLUMP]]</td>
<td id="stats">FOOD
$food/100</td>
</tr>
<td id="verbs">[[MOOD THE CRYLUMP]]
<td id="stats">MOOD
$mood/100</td>
</tr>
<td id="verbs">[[SLEEP THE CRYLUMP]]
<td id="stats">SLEEP
$sleep/100</td>
</tr>
<td id="verbs">[[POOP THE CRYLUMP]]
<td id="stats">POOP
$poop/100</td>
</tr>
</table>
}
{
(set: $poop += 12 + (random: 3, 7))
(if: $poop >= 100)[(set: $poop = 100)]
(set: $sleep -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(set: $food -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(set: $mood -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(if: $poop_times is 0)[(goto: "poop0")]
(if: $poop_times is 1)[(goto: "poop1")]
(if: $poop_times is 2)[(goto: "poop2")]
(if: $poop_times is 3)[(goto: "poop3")]
(if: $poop_times is 4)[(goto: "tuttut")]
}
{
(set: $poop -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(set: $sleep += 12 + (random: 3, 7))
(if: $sleep >= 100)[(set: $sleep = 100)]
(set: $food -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(set: $mood -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(if: $sleep_times is 0)[(goto: "sleep0")]
(if: $sleep_times is 1)[(goto: "sleep1")]
(if: $sleep_times is 2)[(goto: "sleep2")]
(if: $sleep_times is 3)[(goto: "sleep3")]
(if: $sleep_times is 4)[(goto: "tuttut")]
}
{
(set: $poop -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(set: $sleep -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(set: $food += 12 + (random: 3, 7))
(if: $food >= 100)[(set: $food = 100)]
(set: $mood -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(if: $food_times is 0)[(goto: "food0")]
(if: $food_times is 1)[(goto: "food1")]
(if: $food_times is 2)[(goto: "food2")]
(if: $food_times is 3)[(goto: "food3")]
(if: $food_times is 4)[(goto: "tuttut")]
}
{
(set: $poop -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(set: $sleep -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(set: $food -= 5 + (random: 3, 7))
(set: $mood += 12 + (random: 3, 7))
(if: $mood >= 100)[(set: $mood = 100)]
(if: $mood_times is 0)[(goto: "mood0")]
(if: $mood_times is 1)[(goto: "mood1")]
(if: $mood_times is 2)[(goto: "mood2")]
(if: $mood_times is 3)[(goto: "mood3")]
(if: $mood_times is 4)[(goto: "tuttut")]
}
It's all over. You have failed. You have been swept away by the tides of the crylump's many needs.
You sit in a daze among the smouldering ruins of what used to be your dignity and self-esteem, when Honey Bun bursts through the wall, does a somersault off the coffee table and snatches the crylump from your arms. There are curling irons in her hair and death in her stare.
He is still alive, though, you point out.
That counts, right?
She hands you a beach ball swaddled in blankets. Wait, no, this is your son. You are a father. You remember.
I need you to perform fatherhood, she says. Yes, honey bun. Make sure he eats, she says. Yes, honey bun. You're holding him upside down, she says. Yes, honey bun. She sighs. Just... Just keep him alive while I'm gone. Please. You nod.
She departs and you stare at the crylump in your arms. This crylump has needs. Needs you are fully prepared to meet. You have read at least two books about this.
[[How hard can it be?|init]]
You poop the crylump, as is your parental right, and the poop comes easy. You unfold the diaper. There is roughly a gallon of xenomorph barf within. [[Your chest swells with pride.|main]]
(set: $poop_times += 1)
You poop the crylump. You have to spend fifteen minutes massaging that rotund baby tummy, but your efforts pay off. You are a champion poop coaxer. [[Your medal is a diaperful of poop.|main]]
(set: $poop_times += 1)
You poop the crylump, yet the crylump poops not. The situation is a source of tension for the both of you. Finally, you resort to the centrifuge method you've once glimpsed in Husbandry Monthly. As it turns out, it also doubles as a wall painting technique.
[[But at least the crylump has been pooped.|main]]
(set: $poop_times += 1)
You poop the crylump in vain. The Poopmaggedon is upon you. You pray to the Poop God yet he is silent. This a terrifying new post-poop world and you have to live in it. You are not sure you have the will to-
[[Oh, there we go.|main]]
(set: $poop_times += 1)
Your singlemindedness will be your doom. The crylump has multiple needs. [[You should have attended to them all.|honeybun]]
You live on a twenty four hour cycle. He, on a two hour one. Therefore so do you. You lay him down into his crib and whisper, desperation in your voice, please sleep.
[[For once, he takes pity on you.|main]]
(set: $sleep_times += 1)
You sleep the crylump. You rock him in your arms and sing him a lullaby, except you don't remember any lullabies, so you softly sing him The Lonely Island's viral R&B hit single Dick in a Box. [[The crylump is riveted right up to the point when he dozes off.|main]]
(set: $sleep_times += 1)
You sleep the crylump, yet the crylump remains unslept. There is no sleep anymore. Sleep is an expired concept. Now there is only crying. You double your efforts. So does he. You sleep him and sleep him and sleep him.
Finally, he slumps into a weary unconsciousness of an axe murderer who's had a busy day. [[You follow his suit.|main]]
(set: $sleep_times += 1)
You sleep the crylump, but he defiantly glares at you from his crib, alert and ornery. He has figured this sleep racket out and he will be having none of it. So much time is lost into the abyss when it could be spent on important things, like pooping and fooding and mooding. He will not sleep. He will never sleep.
[[Eventually, he sleeps.|main]]
(set: $sleep_times += 1)
You food the crylump. You rotate him to locate the appropriate orifice and insert the baby bottle. The happy gurgling confirms that today, you got it right on the first try.
[[You are both very relieved about this.|main]]
(set: $food_times += 1)
You food the crylump. You have been left a bottle of his mother's bodily fluids, a fatty emulsion still warm with the heat of the glands that produced it, which you supply to his mouth. He reluctantly accepts the rubber nipple, even though he would clearly rather be sucking on the real thing.
[[So would you.|main]]
(set: $food_times += 1)
You try to food the crylump, but he refuses the bottle. His face accuses: Where is the boob, Father? Why am I being denied the boob, the life gland, the source of my strength? Am I not your son? Am I not worthy?
In desperation, you trickle the milk onto your dadtit and offer it to the crylump. He reluctantly accepts.
You have read once that it is common for mothers to feel erotic arousal from the nipple stimulation during breast feeding. [[Just a random factoid.|main]]
(set: $food_times += 1)
You food the crylump. He sucks that bottle dry then smiles at you. You lean over to smile back, when he spits the milk back right into your eye and giggles.
Is that not funny, Father?
[[Is that not funny?|main]]
(set: $food_times += 1)
You mood the crylump. Will a raspberry to the tummy do the trick? You test the hypothesis. He gazes down on your efforts with the benevolent smile of a Roman patriarch. You may continue to pfffbbbffbbbt, Father, it says. [[The pffffbfffbbbtt is not displeasing to me.|main]]
(set: $mood_times += 1)
You mood the crylump as he bellows with rage. There is not a titty plugging his face and this is unacceptable. You attempt the cootchie-coo. Your cootchie-coo is rejected. You lean close and ask who's a good baby. Well, obviously not him.
Finally, the demon ire ceases through no deed of your own. [[Hurray?|main]]
(set: $mood_times += 1)
You mood the crylump. He observes your toesie-counting effort with a grim silence. Father, I have already gathered that your half of my genes is hardly first-rate, but this is superfluous. You have done this before. The number remains the same. And yes, the toesies are indeed mine.
Still mine.
[[Again, mine.|main]]
(set: $mood_times += 1)
You mood the crylump. It's not going well. He howls like a banshee and the death he heralds is probably yours. Why do these sounds come? Does he have the colics? Is it ebola? Should you summon the paramedics? Should you call the President? You clutch him close to your chest and rock like you've never rocked before, until he finally quiets down.
[[It probably wasn't ebola.|main]]
(set: $mood_times += 1)
This is something I wrote to (text-style: "strike")[shit into the very soul and spirit of] congratulate someone I know who recently became a father.
[[You're welcome, buddy.|crylump]]