DD-DDD02 (Oct 14, 1988)

DD-DDD02

Puzzle

"7-1-24-1223."
Knowledge | Come Back to L8R | 3 Words

Clue

Hover over the clues if you require!
Clue 1: The first three are a date. Anything happened on that day?
Clue 2: Maybe check the Archive Information - or the changelog below it.
Clue 3: Something was changed around this time in the Archives itself. Not just in every receipt - in the entire website.
Clue 4: Or, I suppose, in its code.
Clue 5: Do me a favour and scroll down to the absolute bottom of any given page. What do you see?
Clue 6: Check the source code for anything hidden around the copyright of the website.

Answer and Explanation

Answer: God, We're Weird
Explanation: The first three numbers, 7-1-24, are a date - the first of July, 2024. In the Archive Information, an update labelled 'Grill's Ready' is dated to this same date. Checking the source code of the receipts released around this date, namely, the August 2022 receipts, reveals the URL of a YouTube video - Home Movies S4E13, named 'Focus Grill', timestamped to 1223 seconds. This part of the episode features a conversation with the line 'God, we're weird'.

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⚠️BEWARE: THIS IS DECLASSIFIED INFORMATION. WARY EYES ONLY. ENTER AT OWN RISK.⚠️

Summary of Receipt

Summary

Transcript

[Date | Oct-14-88]
[Barista | Other]
[Subject | Errata]
[File Reference | DD-DDD02]

I saw a sheep today.

Funny little creature, all the way out here. You don’t see too many sheep around Santiago Canyon. It must be pretty far from home. I suppose I am, too.

This place—it’s no home. It’s a miserable, cold, and empty house. It didn’t have to be. I don’t think it was meant to be, either. Something must’ve gotten screwed up along the way. I can sense that there was more to this place once. More than sterile, empty walls and neatly stacked coffee mugs. The temperature’s always a few degrees too cold, and the fluorescent lights make the shadows feel harsh and rigid. And the furniture—it’s all cold, impersonal steel. Never been used, never been loved. I bet it wasn’t like that the first time around.

It’s nothing like my home.

My home is full of life, with rich reds and earthy browns, laughter, tears, and every little corner of our Cafe carrying its own stories. Plush, worn, and ripped booths, mismatched chairs, and the smell of fresh coffee in the air. Really fresh coffee. Never burnt. I know that at most diners, the coffee’s always burnt—kept in the same thick stew of arabica, reheated constantly for the next top-off. But at my home, he’d never have it any other way than freshly made, single-serve pour-over. A terribly inefficient way to run a Cafe, of course, but that’s what made it home. And I loved every single cup he’d make for me.

What I wouldn’t give to go back to my home, where it’s bright and full of life. But… no. I’m stuck here, in this miserable, gelid house. With you. Because of you. Because of everything you were. I’m not sure I’ll ever get to go home, because everything has always been about you. Even now, it’s still about you.

I want to go home.

I want to be like them.

I want to get this over with.

…

I saw a sheep today. A black one, with curly hair. Saw you too. And a bit of myself. But I still haven’t found my way home yet.

Hang on, guys—I’ll be there before you know it.