"The Incomplete Works of Infocom, Inc." Catalog:

PLANETFALL, INFOWORLD magazine's "Best Adventure of 1983," arms you with your journal, official Stellar Patrol Card and postcards from some of the Galaxy's swankiest tourist traps. It then teleports you forward roughly one hundred centuries to a Stellar Patrol ship of the Thrid Galactic Union, where your rank is Ensign 7th Class - about as low as you can go. But then your luck takes a turn for the better. Your ship explodes. This really is fortunate, because you're thereupon jettisoned away to a mysterious, deserted world. True, the planet is plagued by floods, pestilence and a mutant Wild Kingdom. But there's also Floyd, a mischievous multipurpose robot and the ideal companion with whom to brave your new world as you explore its secrets, dare its dangers and attempt to discover a means of saving it. STANDARD LEVEL

Package Blurb:

"Join the Patrol, and see that Galaxy!" You'd taken the poster's advice, bait and all, and marched right over to the recruitment station near your home on one of Gallium's backwater moons. A youth's dream of exotic worlds, strange and colorful aliens, and Deep Space heroics, had danced in your head as you signed the dotted line. Ninety-five millichrons later, you'd emerged with a buzz-cut scalp and a permanent layer of de-licing spray covering your body. Also, there was a mop in your hand. You'd been commissioned Ensign 7th Class, Code KP8: licenced to swab. And since that day, the closest you've come to Deep Space heroism was scrubbing down the radioactive leper colony on Ishmael-3.

But suppose that jumbo fortune cookie you got at Qwang's Take-out Asteroid last shore leave was right, and your luck does take a turn for the better. Mayby you will indeed narrowly escape disaster. Perhaps you really are about to take an unexpected journey, and meet a short, mysterious stranger. It's even possible that you'll actually travel to an unknown corner of the universe, where you'll save a doomed planet - or die in the attempt. In fact, we'll guarantee it - every last crumb of it. Because that's just the way the cookie crumbles, here in the next dimension.