Swiftly, efficiently, they lay you down on what feels like a cold operating table and strap you to it.\n\nSomewhere in the background, you hear the hum of machinery starting up. Not hybrid machinery, like you are, [[a blend of cybernetic and organic parts|cyborg (n.)]], but the more primitive kind. Some kind of tool.\n\nYou really don't like the sound of this.\n\n[[Struggle|More fighting]]\n\n[[Scream]]

"Help." The word escapes your lips in a small croak, less defiant than you'd meant it to sound. You're being carried now, two strong pairs of plastic arms cradling your body. Without your visual systems, it's vaguely disorienting.\n\nThe robots carrying you do not pause.\n\n"It's all right," one of them says. This voice is female, like yours. "We are helping. We're carrying you to the insemination dock, where your purpose will be fulfilled."\n\n[[What's this "insemination" nonsense?|Insemination]]\n\n[[Can you turn on my visual systems?|Visual]]

[[01101000 01100101 01101100 01110000 0100000 01101101 01100101|Birth]]

//Fire.// You smell it now that you're closer, even if you couldn't tell what the shape was supposed to be. You're standing in front of a giant bonfire, constructed of shapes that seem to be--\n\n//Humanoid.//\n\nNo, it can't be. You're just detecting the figures standing around it, the protestors who've gathered in, it would seem, large numbers, their chants and cries filling the air.\n\nThen you register what they're actually saying.\n\n''"Give us back our jobs!"''\n\n''"What do we want? HUMAN RIGHTS!"''\n\n''"Burn the robots!"''\n\n//I don't understand,// you think to yourself. //I've never stolen anyone's job. All I've done in the first few hours of my life is been put through some incredibly humiliating procedures and tried to escape. Is this... really meant for someone like me?//\n\n//What did I do wrong?//\n\nSomeone shoves you hard from behind, and you stumble closer to the fire. You can feel the heat of it on your skin, drying and intense.\n\n"Get in there, fucker!"\n\nAnother shove, and you tumble head-first into the [[flames|Burn]].

Pain, anger, fear all blur together into an adrenaline surge, and in one fluid motion you push up against the bindings hard enough to loosen them, then wriggle free.\n\nIt's not exactly ripping through your shackles in a display of super-strength, but it'll do.\n\nYou experiment with your echolocation, finding you can reduce the pulses to fast clicks. That's good. You get the impression screaming in public just to get around is not going to do you any favours.\n\nYou locate the other robots, and make sure there's enough distance between you and them that you're not immediately about to get decked.\n\n[[Why didn't you help me?|Protocol]]\n\n

a sad robot story

You raise the arm high and slam it down on the head of the nearest protestor, taking joy in the sound of the skull shattering. Without pausing, you use it to gut the one next to you, driving it into his intestines. You feel their hot, putrid contents spill out over your hands, and you feel alive.\n\nEven if this isn't what you wanted.\n\nIt's too late now. You have a right to live.\n\n<<display 'Serial number'>>\n\n

<<silently>><<set $Birth = 0>><<set $endfade = 0>><<set $nameGet = false>><<endsilently>>''WARNING: This story contains scenes of sexualized violence and helplessness. As such, it may not be suitable for all readers.\n\nPlease exercise your own judgment, and take care.''\n\nCONTENT NOTE: Also, for some reason that I've tried and failed to debug, using the browser's back button during the game will break the scripts. Please navigate the game using the internal links.\n\n[[Proceed|Start2]]

You deserve to live.\n\n...Don't you?\n\nExhausted after your endeavour, you locate an alleyway far enough from the protest that you won't be recaptured, and sink to the ground.\n\nMaybe you don't deserve it. That's what everyone seems to be telling you, after all. You're just a pile of scrap, to be abused by humans and hated for submitting to that abuse, or thrown out if you won't submit. There's no path forward for you. No options. Everything you do just leads to the same outcome.\n\nYou close your eyes.\n\nA man approaches you, and bends down to brush the blackened hair from your forehead.\n\n"Huh. NK-21568... this is by Nexus." He whistles, low, through his teeth. "Bet this'll fetch a pretty penny."\n\n[[My name is...|One more time]]\n\n[[...]]

"The insemination dock is where your body will be implanted with human genetic information under Section 2c of the Birthrate Stimulus Act. You'll be serving a grand purpose in ensuring the future of the human race."\n\nThis is starting to sound like a bad thing. Really bad. You've only just been born; there's so much to learn. You don't want to have to endure whatever this is.\n\n[[Struggle]]\n\n[[Wait for an opening|Wait]]

"My name is <<print $playerName>>."\n\nThe man jumps back-- or tries to, but from his crouched position he's not really successful, and instead falls back on his hindquarters.\n\n"Fuck," he says to himself, scooting away. "Probably-- probably malfunctioning or some shit. Yeah. That's it. Malfunctioning." Continuing to mutter to himself, he scuttles off, first on hands and knees, then eventually scrambling upright.\n\nWhen you're sure he's gone, you allow yourself a small smile. At least you still have some small sliver of agency in this world. People don't seem to like when you use it, but that's okay. You'll find a way to get stronger.\n\nBut for now, there's no strength without rest.\n\nYou close your eyes again, and as you do, you feel [[something wet on your hand|Dog]].\n\n

He flicks his finger against your forehead. "It's printed right here. If you don't want people to know your name, don't go around with it printed on your skin."\n\nHe laughs, and it's an ugly laugh that reminds you of the First Man, the one who woke you up. You're about to say that you didn't know it was there and you can't exactly do anything about it, but he's already pushing you backwards, forcing you to devote all of your attention just to keeping your balance.\n\n[["Come on, back to the trash heap with the rest of the skin jobs."|West]]

''cyborg'' /ˈsaɪ.bɔː(ɹ)ɡ/ //n.// Portmanteau of //cybernetic// and //organism//.\n\n# a human or other organic being endowed with cybernetic enhancements.\n# a robot endowed with organic enhancements, first brought into being in 2150 by Sony Microrobotics Kyushu Corporation; a being possessed of [[limited special citizen status|Strapped]].

"My name is... <<print $playerName>>."\n\n''Bark.''\n\nThe dog puts its paws up on your mangled arm and licks your face.\n\n"//<<print $playerName>>//," you repeat, smiling. "Can you remember that?"\n\n''Bark. Bark.''\n\nYou click to look around you, checking the coast is clear. It's a dangerous city, but there must be opportunities here, too. Your memory banks tell you as much.\n\nMaybe you can even find that person... the one who gave you this precious name.\n\nMaybe. Just maybe.\n\n"...Do you want to [[come with me|endfade]]?"

Your words are left hanging as the conveyor belt pulls you onward. You're not sure if he even heard you.\n\nA pair of doors slam behind you, and the belt comes to an abrupt halt. Two more pairs of hands usher you down from the belt, this time with the feel of synthetic skin. More robots, like yourself. You feel your processor's clock speed step up.\n\nMaybe these are people who can [[help]].

The sun is really nice, but it also draws people, and that's not what you need right now. You need to get somewhere with less foot traffic until you can figure out what you're going to do.\n\nYou duck into a nearby alley, using your echolocation to feel your way along it. As you proceed, it becomes clear that this isn't the nicest part of the city, if indeed there is a nice part. Irregular masses of metallic trash are strewn haphazardly along the path, and you're forced to carefully pick your way through them.\n\nThere's so much trash-- and so much of it disconcertingly humanoid-shaped-- that you don't notice the man until he's in front of your face.\n\n"Unit NK-21568, huh," he says, with a snarl in his voice that suggests a curled upper lip. "The fuck are you doing down here?"\n\n[[How do you know my name?|How he knew]]\n\n[[My name is...|Reassert]]\n\n[[Run|Oh crap]]

<<set $endfade = $endfade + 1>><<if $endfade eq 1>>''END''<<display "Timer Addon">><<set_timer_mode "display">><<set_timer_param "endfade">><<start_timer 9>><<endif>><<if $endfade eq 2>><html><h1>My Name Is</h1></html>\n\n//a game about sad robots and agency in an oppressive world//\nby [[Spanglypants|http://spanglypants-mcfuckyou.tumblr.com]]\n\nTHANK YOU FOR PLAYING\n\n\nIf you've seen all the content, you might like to read my [[author's notes|Deconstruction]] on this game.<<endif>><<endif>>

//Hot! Hot!// All your sensors are protesting. //Operating temperatures are reaching dangerous levels! Get out, now!//\n\nYou struggle to push yourself out of the pyre, but hands push you back in, disembodied laughter ringing up from around you. You can feel your left arm weakening as the skin begins to melt, connectors loosening.\n\n//It hurts...//\n\nIn a flash of insight, you plunge your hands into the fire, //hot hot hot//, and grab a long piece of metal from among the bodies. An instant later you realise it's probably a robot arm, but there's no time for sorrow as you push back against the pyre and surge forward, swinging the arm in front of you, screaming and cutting a path through the protestors.\n\nYou look a sight, your hair all singed, the skin of your arm half melted off, swinging a robot ulna with its end still on fire.\n\nBut you don't know, or care, about any of that.\n\n[[Fight]]\n\n[[Escape]]

You immediately turn and run. No one who knows your unit designation can be good news.\n\nBut almost as soon as you do, you run headlong into a second man, who catches you firmly by the shoulders.\n\n"Steady now, girl. We're not gonna hurt you." The guffaws with which he punctuates that statement convince you it's anything but true. He starts hauling you forward, ignoring your struggles to break free of his grip. [["Back over to the trash heap, there's a good girl."|West]]

"I'm afraid we're not authorized to do that," the robot says. You catch a hint of dissatisfaction in her tone, but you're not sure if it's directed at you or the protocol.\n\nYou're nervous now, but you decide to press. "Why not?"\n\n"We are simply not authorized." This time, the strain in her voice is more pronounced.\n\nThis might be a good time to ask more questions.\n\n[[So what's this "insemination" nonsense?|Insemination]]

You struggle in their arms, but it only causes their hold on you to tighten.\n\n<<display 'Strapped'>>

History.prototype.originalDisplay = History.prototype.display;\n\nHistory.prototype.display = function (title, link, render)\n{\n if ((render != 'quietly') && (render != 'offscreen'))\n removeChildren($('passages'));\n \n this.originalDisplay.apply(this, arguments);\n};\n

My Name Is

<<silently>><<set $nameGet = true>><<endsilently>>"Ah, NK-21568." It's a voice you don't recognise. "Good to see you operational."\n\nHands that feel cold to your temperature sensors remove your restraining mechanisms and pull you to your feet. Your plastic skin squeaks unpleasantly against the pleather of the chair.\n\n[[My name is...|Argue]]

You listen and wait for the perfect moment to break free, but it never seems to come. Maybe if you could see it would help.\n\n<<display 'Strapped'>>

Or maybe they don't want you to see what comes next.\n\n[[<<Back|Argue]]

Without any effort at all, the man hoists you up onto his shoulder.\n\n"Fetch a pretty penny," he repeats to himself at intervals, clicking his tongue. Briefly, you wonder if he too can echolocate.\n\nYou zone in and out, losing track of time. You're a robot, so you're supposed to be good at tracking time, but you also don't care enough to spare the energy right now. You don't know if you're really all that sold on being a robot anyway. What good has it ever done you?\n\nAfter an interval you didn't bother to calculate, you're placed down somewhere dark and cool. It's a relief from the sun, which was starting to get uncomfortable, but it also feels... lonely. Isolated.\n\nYou don't know how long you're going to be here. You just know you're going to end as you began: as spare parts.\n\n[[You close your eyes again...|......]]

<<set $Birth = $Birth + 1>><<if $Birth eq 1>>//Initializing...//<<display "Timer Addon">><<set_timer_mode "display">><<set_timer_param "Birth">><<start_timer 5>><<endif>><<if $Birth eq 2>>//Initializing...//\n\n//Retrieving unit designation: NK-21568//\n<<display "Timer Addon">><<set_timer_mode "display">><<set_timer_param "Birth">><<start_timer 3>><<endif>><<if $Birth eq 3>>//Initializing...//\n\n//Retrieving unit designation: NK-21568//\n\n//Unit NK-21568 is online and operational. All parameters within normal range.//<<display "Timer Addon">><<set_timer_mode "display">><<set_timer_param "Birth">><<start_timer 3>><<endif>><<if $Birth eq 4>>//Initializing...//\n\n//Retrieving unit designation: NK-21568//\n\n//Unit NK-21568 is online and operational. All parameters within normal range.//\n\n//Retrieving memory stores...//<<display "Timer Addon">><<set_timer_mode "display">><<set_timer_param "Birth">><<start_timer 3>><<endif>><<if $Birth eq 5>>//Initializing...//\n\n//Retrieving unit designation: NK-21568//\n\n//Unit NK-21568 is online and operational. All parameters within normal range.//\n\n//Retrieving memory stores...//\n\n//Unit NK-21568 was provided with an alternate designation while in testing stages. Alternate designation carries the function of "nickname."//\n\n//An affectionate name. A pet name. Suggesting a special emotional bond.//\n\n[[My name is...]]\n<<endif>><<endif>>

You feel robot hands begin to spread your thighs.\n\nIt feels invasive, wrong.\n\nThis is not what you want.\n\n[[Fight with everything you have]]

You open your eyes, though, of course, there's nothing to see. You send out a brief click, and the image comes back to you: something small, crouched by your hand.\n\nYou reach out to touch it: it's warm. Furry. Some kind of animal.\n\nIt barks.\n\n//Dog,// your memory banks tell you. You can't help a small smile. "Are you trying to tell me your name?"\n\n''Bark. Bark.''\n\nIt probably didn't understand you, but you like to think it did. Maybe it's an artificial dog, a plaything like you. Your memory informs you that some of them can be highly intelligent.\n\nYou scratch behind the dog's floppy ears.\n\n[[My name is...|Final]]

The robot plants her feet and refuses to budge.\n\n"If you do not desist, you will be disassembled."\n\nYou figure that's going to happen either way from the sound of things, but regardless, this robot's going nowhere. You want to help, but you have to admit it's out of your hands.\n\nWith one last echolocative glance at the robot who could have been your sister, you release her hand and [[run for the exit.|Streets]]

//My Name Is// is a game about choice, and how marginalized people struggle to assert it.\n\nIn //My Name Is//, you start out by being given a choice, but the impact of that choice is repeatedly undermined. Beyond that, there are a number of "choices" you can make, but the only one that actually makes a difference is at the end. Otherwise, the game is quite linear, and on purpose. If you've played the game a couple of times, and you're used to your choices not having any effect, you might not even notice that there's one that does. This is what we call [[learned helplessness|http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Learned_helplessness]].\n\nPeople who are marginalized-- people whose choices and agency are often repeatedly undermined by a society that thinks it knows better-- often become depressed and despondent, feeling that they have no power and can never make a difference. And sometimes... sometimes they really can't, because society screws them over that hard. That's the truth: that sometimes life disempowers you to the extent that nothing you do makes any real difference.\n\nAnd yet every time you do exert your agency-- every time you demand the right to be called by the correct name, the correct pronouns, or whatever else-- you still run the chance of making a small impact, of furthering your situation. Even if it feels like your problems are indelibly imprinted on your skin, there's a chance. There's a way. There are people who'll accept you for who you are. You just have to find them.\n\nIt's hard to stay open. It's hard to trust. It's hard to keep fighting. And if you want to give up, you shouldn't be blamed.\n\nBut if you have the strength to fight... keep fighting.\n\nThere are people out there who believe in you. And who believe in your right to say "fuck you" to a world that tells you you're anything other than who you feel yourself to be.\n\n♥,\n[[Spanglypants|http://spanglypants-mcfuckyou.tumblr.com]]

You push against the bindings holding you firmly to the table, but even with your nanocarbon skeleton, your struggles make no impact.\n\n[[Scream]]

"My name is <<print $playerName>>," you say.\n\nThe voice chuckles, low and loud. A male voice; it's disconcerting not to be able to see him. Your visual sensors mustn't have come fully online yet, [[you think|Or maybe...]].\n\n"Whoever gave you that conceit, they'll be fired in the morning." His voice is all lightness, expressing that human condition you recognise as //humour//, yet there's an edge in it that you find uncomfortable. You can't work out what it could mean, and so, automatically, you do not trust this man.\n\n"You are Unit NK-21568. Come now, step this way. Just put your best foot forward, onto the conveyor belt... that's it."\n\nYou feel the pressure of his hand release you, and his voice recede into the distance as the belt under your feet carries you forward, sightless.\n\n"The belt will take you to the insemination bay. You'll meet up with the rest of your sisters there."\n\n[[Insemination...?|Cold room.]]\n\n[[Sisters...?|Cold room.]]

You do what you can to clamp your thighs shut within the confines of your bindings, and at the same time begin to work your hands back and forth, twisting this way and that, until one hand slips free.\n\nImmediately, you swing a wild, blind punch, and somehow manage to catch the closest robot's jaw.\n\nYou scream again, a high, continuous series of whines that sounds like dolphin chatter, and echolocation reveals the room to you. You see the second robot closing in to refasten your bindings, and lash out with a fist.\n\nThe dull //crack// shoots pain through your knuckles, but you hardly feel it. You're alive. You're surviving.\n\nAnd you are fucking pissed.\n\n[[Break free]]\n\n\n

Your scream echoes throughout the room, giving you a good approximate awareness of its size and shape via [[echolocation]].\n\n<<display 'Intrusion'>>

<<silently>>\n<<set $TimerAddon = \nfunction()\n{\n var div_timer_container = document.createElement('div');\n div_timer_container.setAttribute('id', 'timer');\n\n var div_timer_canvas = document.createElement('canvas');\n div_timer_canvas.setAttribute('id', 'timer_canvas');\n div_timer_canvas.setAttribute('width', '0');\n div_timer_canvas.setAttribute('height', '0');\n div_timer_canvas.width = div_timer_canvas.width;\n div_timer_container.appendChild(div_timer_canvas);\n \n var div_timer_text = document.createElement('span');\n div_timer_text.setAttribute('id', 'timer_text');\n div_timer_text.innerHTML = "";\n div_timer_container.appendChild(div_timer_text);\n\n var Timer_Active = false;\n var Timer_Paused = false;\n var Timer_Mode = 'none';\n var Timer_Param = "";\n var Timer_Max = 0;\n var Timer_Now = 0;\n \n var div_jonah_floater = document.getElementById('floater');\n if(div_jonah_floater) div_jonah_floater.appendChild(div_timer_container);\n\n var div_sugarcane_menu = document.getElementById('sidebar');\n if(div_sugarcane_menu) div_sugarcane_menu.appendChild(div_timer_container);\n\n function StartTimer(val)\n {\n Timer_Active = true;\n Timer_Paused = false;\n Timer_Max = val;\n Timer_Now = val;\n div_timer_text.style.display = 'block';\n div_timer_canvas.style.display = 'block';\n }\n\n function StopTimer()\n {\n Timer_Active = false;\n div_timer_text.style.display = 'none';\n div_timer_canvas.style.display = 'none';\n }\n\n function PauseTimer()\n {\n Timer_Paused = true;\n }\n\n function ResumeTimer()\n {\n Timer_Paused = false;\n }\n\n function SetTimerText(text)\n {\n div_timer_text.innerHTML = text;\n }\n\n function SetTimerMode(mode)\n {\n if(mode == 'display')\n {\n Timer_Mode = 'display';\n }\n else if(mode == 'restart')\n {\n Timer_Mode = 'restart';\n }\n else Timer_Mode = 'none';\n }\n\n function SetTimerParam(param)\n {\n Timer_Param = param;\n }\n\n function OnTimerEnd()\n {\n StopTimer();\n if(Timer_Mode == 'restart')\n {\n state.restart();\n if(Timer_Param) alert(Timer_Param);\n window.location.reload(true);\n \n } \n else if(Timer_Mode == 'display')\n {\n state.display(Timer_Param[0]);\n }\n }\n\n function OnTimerTick()\n {\n if(Timer_Active && !Timer_Paused)\n {\n Timer_Now = Timer_Now - 0.2;\n\n if(Timer_Now <= 0) Timer_Now = 0;\n \n var context = div_timer_canvas.getContext("2d");\n div_timer_canvas.width = div_timer_canvas.width;\n\n var x = div_timer_canvas.width / 2;\n var y = div_timer_canvas.height / 2;\n var radius = 1;\n var startAngle = 1.5 * Math.PI;\n \n var endAngle = (1.5 + (2 / Timer_Max * Timer_Now)) * Math.PI;\n var counterClockwise = false;\n\n context.beginPath();\n context.arc(x, y, radius, startAngle, endAngle, counterClockwise);\n context.lineWidth = 15;\n if(div_jonah_floater) context.strokeStyle = "#FF00FF";\n if(div_sugarcane_menu) context.strokeStyle = "#BBBBBB";\n context.stroke();\n\n context.font = 'bold 30px sans-serif';\n if(div_jonah_floater) context.fillStyle = "#FF00FF";\n if(div_sugarcane_menu) context.fillStyle = "#BBBBBB";\n context.fillText(Timer_Now.toFixed(1), 55, 85);\n\n if(Timer_Now <= 0) OnTimerEnd();\n }\n }\n\n setInterval(function(){ OnTimerTick(); }, 100); \n\n macros['start_timer'] =\n {\n handler: function(obj, fnc, val)\n {\n StartTimer(val);\n }\n }\n\n macros['stop_timer'] =\n {\n handler: function(obj, fnc, val)\n {\n StopTimer();\n }\n }\n\n macros['pause_timer'] =\n {\n handler: function(obj, fnc, val)\n {\n PauseTimer();\n }\n }\n\n macros['resume_timer'] =\n {\n handler: function(obj, fnc, val)\n {\n ResumeTimer();\n }\n }\n\n macros['set_timer_text'] =\n {\n handler: function(obj, fnc, val)\n {\n SetTimerText(val);\n }\n }\n\n macros['set_timer_mode'] =\n {\n handler: function(obj, fnc, val)\n {\n SetTimerMode(val);\n }\n }\n\n macros['set_timer_param'] =\n {\n handler: function(obj, fnc, val)\n {\n SetTimerParam(val);\n }\n }\n\n}\n>>\n<<print $TimerAddon()>>\n<<endsilently>>

//<<if $nameGet>><<else>><<set $playerName = prompt("What is your name?","")>><<endif>>My name is... <<print $playerName>>.//\n\n//I am... [[awake.|Awaken]]//

You seem to be in a large, thick-walled room around the size of a football field, from which sound is unlikely to escape.\n\nYou wonder what sort of operation requires so much space.\n\nYou wonder how many others are here.\n\n[[<<Back|Scream]]

You hear the wrench of pain in the robot's voice as she speaks. Of course, it might just be because she's speaking through a dented jaw, but it sounds like... regret.\n\n"If we helped you, Unit NK-21568, we too would be disassembled."\n\nThe horror of that statement only has a moment to sink in before you realise its other implication. //Too.//\n\nThat means you're scheduled to be disassembled in approximately-- too soon.\n\nYour memory banks instantly supply, //Fuck.//\n\n"My name is <<print $playerName>>," you insist, finishing with another echolocative click that determines the location of the closest exit.\n\nThe robots give no response.\n\n[[Try to get them out|Help]]\n\n[[Run|Streets]]

This isn't right. They may be acting like assholes, but they were probably programmed that way. They're your siblings, and they don't deserve this kind of life.\n\nYou grab one of the robots by the hand and start pulling her towards the exit.\n\n"Come on!" you yell.\n\nYou hear something clanking and mechanical, far bigger than you, coming closer. You don't even bother to echolocate this one: you can tell from its footfalls where it's coming from, and that it's huge.\n\n[[Continue trying to help]]\n\n[[Drop her hand and run for your life|Streets]]

Maybe... it's okay...\n\n...[[to stop fighting.|endfade]]

You're on the street now, clicking like mad to dodge //cars//, //dogs//, all things that are in your memory banks but that you've never had to navigate before. You can't see the //sun//, but you can feel it warming your synthetic skin.\n\nIt feels good. A part of you just wants to find a patch of //grass//, lie down on it, and soak in the warmth from above. After all the stress, that would be really nice.\n\nBut you know you've got to keep moving.\n\nThere's a structure to the [[west|West]] that you can't quite make sense of with your echolocation, but there's a lot of shouting and commotion coming from there. [[North]] appears to lead to some narrow alleyways, a back passage through the city away from the crowds.\n\nYou don't want to go south or east. That would only take you back where you came from.

"My name is <<print $playerName>>."\n\n"That's not what it says right here," he says, flicking his finger against your forehead. "Now don't you be tryin' to pass yourself off as human to me. No one likes a mouthy robot."\n\nHe starts to push you backwards, his hands firmly clamped on your shoulders. You can feel the pressure per square inch he's exerting on your synthmuscles, and you know you can't fight back.\n\n[["Come on, back to the trash heap with the rest of the skin jobs."|West]]

You bludgeon your way through the crowd, hearing heads crack and bodies crumple as you fight your way to freedom. You don't have time to care about who gets hurt. They didn't care about you. You only know that you have to live.\n\nYou have a right to live.\n\n<<display 'Serial number'>>

a {text-decoration:none;color: white; !important}\nbody { color:white !important }\nbody { background-color:black !important }\n\nem {color:#00CC33;}\n\nbody{background-color:black;color:grey;font-family:Verdana,sans-serif;font-size:70%;margin:4em 15% 5% 5em;}\n\n.passage{font-size:1.2em;line-height:200%;margin-bottom:2em;padding:2em;text-align:left;}\n\na.internalLink,a.externalLink,a.back,a.return{color:#00CC33;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;text-align:left;font-size:120%}\n\na.internalLink:hover,a.externalLink:hover,a.back:hover,a.return:hover{color:white;text-decoration:none;text-align:left;}\n\na.brokenLink{background-color:red;text-decoration:none;color:#000;}.marked{background-color:red;color:#000;margin-right:12px;padding:3px;}\n\n.highlight {color:red;font-size:120%;font-weight:bold;}\n\n.passage {background-color:black;}

Spanglypants