This is a 3D printed plastic stamp with three interchangeable faces, designed to be kept behind the bar and used to leave helpful messages on the foreheads of passed-out drunkards. It was constructed in Autodesk 123D and printed using Ponoko.
How does it work? Read on for a thrilling example scenario!
(Alternatively, skip to Step 10 to find out how I made it.)
Step 1: A text-based adventure in 3D printing and alcoholism
You wake up slowly. Your head is pounding. Your mouth feels like an old shoe box in which a diseased hedgehog has chosen to hibernate. You are lying, fully clothed, on the floor beside a bed. You cannot remember how you got here. On the bedside table is half a glass of water which has been sitting there for at least a month.
You try to get up, but your stomach climbs up your throat and tries to smother your brain. You lie back down.
>Drink the water.
You are too far away from the water and you lack the coordination required to crawl.
You doze off again, in the hope that sleep will somehow solve your predicament. You wake some time later. Your head still aches. The hedgehog in your mouth has been joined by its unruly, even less healthy family.
>Remove the hedgehog.
The hedgehog is not a literal hedgehog. It began as a simile then became a metaphor while you were napping. It represents dehydration and regret.
You lurch to your feet and, after swaying on the spot for over a minute, you manage to remain upright. After another minute, so does the room.
> Drink the water.
You drink the stale water. It feels pure and cleansing. There is not enough of it.
>Go to the bathroom.
You stagger to the bathroom. There is a sink, a mirror, a toothbrush and a toilet which has been soiled in an unholy manner.
>Use the sink.
You put your lips over the faucet and fumble for the taps. The water is warm, but still good. You drink until you are dizzy. The vile taste in your mouth remains.
>Brush your teeth.
You squeeze toothpaste along the entire length of the toothbrush and, on your third attempt, insert the head of the brush into your mouth. You brush gingerly. With nothing better to occupy your mind for two minutes, you try to make sense of what happened last night. You draw blanks. You glance in the mirror. A message is printed on your forehead.