{
  "name": "CH 5 — AFTERBURN!",
  "enter_text": "A carrier deck at permanent sunset. Every surface is orange, every jaw is set, and somewhere a saxophone is playing for no one.",
  "music": 4,
  "strokes": [
    {
      "Rect": {
        "x": 0,
        "y": 0,
        "w": 160,
        "h": 168,
        "color": 6,
        "meaning": "Floor"
      }
    },
    {
      "Rect": {
        "x": 0,
        "y": 0,
        "w": 160,
        "h": 50,
        "color": 12,
        "meaning": "None"
      }
    },
    {
      "Rect": {
        "x": 0,
        "y": 20,
        "w": 160,
        "h": 8,
        "color": 14,
        "meaning": "None"
      }
    },
    {
      "Rect": {
        "x": 0,
        "y": 48,
        "w": 160,
        "h": 3,
        "color": 0,
        "meaning": "None"
      }
    },
    {
      "Rect": {
        "x": 0,
        "y": 51,
        "w": 160,
        "h": 117,
        "color": 8,
        "meaning": "Floor"
      }
    },
    {
      "Rect": {
        "x": 0,
        "y": 90,
        "w": 160,
        "h": 2,
        "color": 14,
        "meaning": "None"
      }
    },
    {
      "Rect": {
        "x": 0,
        "y": 130,
        "w": 160,
        "h": 2,
        "color": 14,
        "meaning": "None"
      }
    },
    {
      "Rect": {
        "x": 0,
        "y": 164,
        "w": 160,
        "h": 4,
        "color": 0,
        "meaning": "Wall"
      }
    }
  ],
  "spawn": [
    18,
    146
  ],
  "exits": [
    null,
    3,
    null,
    1
  ],
  "exit_flags": [
    "",
    "landed_it",
    "",
    ""
  ],
  "exit_blocked": [
    "",
    "There is a jet on this deck that the channel insists cannot be landed, and it will not move on until somebody lands it.",
    "",
    ""
  ],
  "objects": [
    {
      "name": "admiral",
      "sprite": "admiral",
      "x": 36,
      "y": 118,
      "look": "The admiral. One eyepatch, forty ribbons, and a coffee mug he has been gripping since the seventies. He speaks entirely in barked fragments about the best he's ever seen and the biggest risk he's ever cleared.",
      "synonyms": "eyepatch navy commander brass",
      "use_text": "He assigns you all call signs, which the channel requires.  You are PAPERWORK. Your father is SINCERE. Your grandfather declines a call sign, flatly, once — and the channel's horizontal hold shudders, because a man without a call sign cannot be in this genre, and he is anyway, and the genre has to just live with it.",
      "dialogue": [
        {
          "says": "Admiral: DREBIN! Three generations of the worst flying I have never seen! One of you is going up in that bird and I don't care which!",
          "choices": [
            {
              "text": "None of us can fly, Admiral.",
              "goto": 1
            },
            {
              "text": "Volunteer for the beach volleyball montage instead.",
              "goto": 2,
              "kills": true
            }
          ]
        },
        {
          "says": "Admiral: CAN'T FLY!  He drinks the entire mug.  Admiral: Son, NOBODY in this picture can fly! That's what the MUSIC is for!",
          "choices": [
            {
              "text": "Then we'll do it by the checklist.",
              "goto": -1
            }
          ]
        },
        {
          "says": "You volunteer for the montage.  It is four minutes long. You are seventy-one years old. The channel provides slow motion, which helps nothing, and a saxophone, which helps less.  The coroner's channel lists the cause as 'lifestyle'."
        }
      ]
    },
    {
      "name": "dad",
      "sprite": "drebin82",
      "x": 118,
      "y": 124,
      "look": "Your father, whom the channel has decided is haunted by the legendary crash that killed HIS father.  His father is standing next to him, alive, holding a clipboard. The channel keeps cutting to flashbacks of the crash anyway. The flashbacks have no one in them. The channel does not know how to handle this and is beginning to sweat.",
      "synonyms": "father lieutenant trench haunted",
      "use_text": "The channel gives him a brooding close-up against the sunset.  He uses it to check, sincerely, whether you have eaten today. The close-up holds. It is the most emotionally healthy shot in this genre's history and the saxophone does not know what to play under it."
    },
    {
      "name": "grandpa",
      "sprite": "drebin58",
      "x": 96,
      "y": 132,
      "look": "Your grandfather has obtained the aircraft's flight manual and is reading it, in monochrome, in a deck chair, at the exact centre of a genre that has never once opened it.",
      "synonyms": "grandfather sergeant fedora manual",
      "use_text": "He looks up from the manual.  'Page forty-one. The emergency landing checklist is printed in the wrong order. Trigger before feed.'  He looks at you over the page, one beat, 1958 to 2025.  'They are always printed in the wrong order.'"
    },
    {
      "name": "jetdeck",
      "sprite": "jetdeck",
      "x": 76,
      "y": 108,
      "look": "The bird. The channel has established, in three separate barked briefings, that it cannot be landed: crosswind, night, no instruments, a storm the size of a country, and a saxophone.  Nobody in this genre has ever consulted the manual, because the manual does not brood.",
      "synonyms": "jet bird plane fighter aircraft deck",
      "points": 10,
      "sets_flag": "landed_it",
      "use_text": "You land the unlandable jet as a family.  Your grandfather reads the emergency checklist aloud in reverse order, which corrects it. Your father repeats each item back with total sincerity, which is what checklists are for. You do the things, in order, with your hands, because somebody in this family has to be the hands.  The jet lands. Softly. In the storm. To silence — the saxophone stops, mid-phrase, for the first time in this channel's history, because there is nothing to underscore. It was procedure. You cannot underscore procedure.  The admiral names a corridor after you and drinks to the manual, which he has decided he invented.  (+15)"
    }
  ]
}