Back on Track: Level 2 of the Least Playable Video Game
Museum of You | Chapter 6 | Dave plays a new game in the same game, with hopefully a new ending.
You know, I’ve been thinking. I think we lost the plot a bit back there. This isn’t a crazy multi-media performance art. It shouldn’t have tie-ins to an unrelated horror fiction writing site. It shouldn’t include instagram comments or reddit posts as part of the work that requires the reader to open fifteen tabs to even have a chance at keeping up with a narrative that has no payoff for its sprawling format. This is a video game.
The game begins with a story of a you named Dave, who works in a large company as Employee 222. This large company was responsible for auditing the locations of a multi-national corporation that deals in art galleries. Sometimes, one of their galleries develops a fault of some sort, and it is Dave’s job to identify those. Dave is not particularly important or influential at this company, but they do have a degree of popularity due to the good fortune of having an employee badge with three of the same number - even more impressive that it is the number “2”, given the game level this company exists on and is well aware of. This does not affect their career prospects significantly, but it greatly improves their working experience - which Dave believes is a deeply underrated aspect of employee compensation.
Dave is currently looking at a black screen. They just completed their first audit of a gallery that had a very cruel disembodied voice coming from invisible speakers, a table full of cassette tapes, and paintings/photos of wildlife on the walls. They didn’t like the experience very much, but they greatly enjoyed the art itself, with its comforting nostalgia and gentle music. All of it felt like a response to the pretentiousness of other art, without containing an ounce of judgement or disdain for other exhibits or trends. It made Dave feel at home in this world, in a way art hadn’t made them feel in many years. However, the strange voice ruined it. Dave was unsure if the voice was part of the exhibit, part of the game, part of the book, or part of an ongoing psychotic break. They hope it was just a coincidence.
To this point, Dave had still been looking at a black screen. Now, in lowercase text and a friendly-yet-generic font, “hi dave” fades in. No voice accompanies it.
A voice comes in. Different from before, maybe. The voice is much softer, vaguely feminine, but retains many of the same qualities. A new quality that seems to be present is uncertainty, possibly regret. This comforts you. It comforts Dave. The voice says the following:
i feel we got off on the wrong foot. i was so excited to emulate a piece of art that inspired me that i became a really distorted version of myself. i was so excited to give you the profound experience that i had playing the beginner’s game that i forgot a key part of that experience: earning your trust first. now that i’ve done things backwards, i think i’m going to abandon that concept. there’s no need anyway - davey did a great job with that one. this game isn’t going to be directly about obsession or hurting other through artistic projection or anything like that anymore. it’s about connection. it’s about appreciation. and it’s about being seen, without being judged. and hopefully about seeing without destroying. is that okay with you?
You think about this. Dave thinks about this. Dave comes to the conclusion that the past couple hours wasn’t so bad, in retrospect, if this is where it’s going for the rest of the experience. You may not be so sure, but I hope you decide to continue with us. Consider this game element choice. Would you like to continue?
Yes.
No.
These aren’t really gameplay elements in any sort of useful way, they just are a couple songs from a band the author is in that, to some degree, exists within the game / book as well. Either choice is fine. I thought about making them clickable to different Substack articles, but I think that is a bit too on-the-nose when it comes to making this a “game”. Maybe later on we’ll make use of that, in the meantime we have a different game to play, one that is increasingly more real with each chapter, but also increasingly less about you as it becomes more tangible.
Whichever Dave chose, the narrator thanks them for their honesty and continues on as the level fades into view.
now that you’ve completed the first level, you’ll have the chance to try again and play the game in a more real sense. the first level ends the same way regardless of your choices. this level will be at the same gallery, but your choices will affect the outcome after you complete the task inside the exhibit. some combinations of choices will lead to an immediate ending - of which there are many and that are varied in content and tone. many choice sets lead to an additional levels within this playthrough before eventually concluding in a unique ending. a few endings result in the game shutting down and being rendered un-launchable. forever. if you reach an ending of some sort on this playthrough, your next playthrough will most likely start in a different gallery, exhibit, or setting as a whole. i hope you enjoy the experience.
Toward the end of this prelude, the narrator’s voice became faint - almost as if ascending away, gaining a distinct angelic quality. Dave began walking toward the white marble block of a museum. They were not afraid.
Upon entering, Dave saw the same elements as before: twenty-two art pieces, as well as twenty-two cassettes on a table. However, something new had appeared. In the exact center of the room was a small pillar, about waist-high, with a pal-sized button perched on top. Above the button hung words suspended in the air, gently rotating, as if projected by hologram.
press to create meaning
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
so, dave. i know you chose no at the end of the last level, and that i said if you did you’d be brought back here with no gameplay changes. at the time, that was true. but i couldn’t bear to let you make that mistake. please reconsider and press the button.
Dave takes this in and stares at the button. If they were a real person, I’d imagine they’d have some complex emotions, given the stressful nature of the previous playthrough. If they were the person outside the game - who had read all previous chapters, chapter three especially - they would also likely have some complicated emotions. As it stands, Dave is employee 222 of [insert imaginary multinational video game / art gallery auditing group], and they are here to work. Dave chooses to be productive, and press the button.
A typewriter rises from the ground on a slightly larger pedestal, right next to the button. It stops at the most comfortable height for Dave to write at.
so, as i’m sure you can imagine, this typewriter is part of the game. i wish i could be more specific about exactly how it is, but unfortunately my sympathy can only take me so far at this stage. please type “skip button”
Dave did as they were told, and a button appeared in their hand a few seconds after completing the prompt.
there are one thousand, three hundred, and fifteen buttons you may request. there are hundreds of other effects that typing different commands and prompts can trigger. capitalization does not matter. spacing does. punctuation usually does not. enjoy creating.
With that, a whole new world opened up, and Dave began creating their video game.