Post by xtreme on Oct 15, 2019 13:53:42 GMT -6
"How long has it been?
The ringing’s died down.
Dizzy and dazed
In a strange room
His eyes spiral out
Into a dark fuzzy haze
Dear Mr. Detective, what clues have you?
It hardly matters now, with the state they’re in
There are shards of what once was a planet
Corpses floating out to outer space
A glorious tessellation of the human race
The Detective he quivers in sheer disbelief
The end of the world has come
Before he solved the murder mystery
It hardly matters now,
Such a shame,
They're all dead
The world is no more, no more, no more."
- "The Detective", Steampianist f. Oliver
A group of people are shown, standing inside a locked room. There is a chair and a desk in the corner, a file cabinet off to the side. A jacket hangs on a coat rack, and a number of photos are hung around the room. A voice can be heard, coming from the speakers above.
Voice - Okay, guys, you have sixty minutes to find out how to escape this room. Starting... now!
The other people in the room immediately begin to search for clues, checking in every corner. One is flipping through what appears to be a calendar, while another is searching through the pockets of the jacket that was hung. The third person is under the desk, looking for a hidden panel. The fourth person... hasn't moved. He turns towards the camera, which is recording from a corner above. It is Xtreme. He smiles at the camera.
Xtreme - This looks like the job for a detective.
Xtreme looks around the room at the other participants, who are completely ignoring him. They're invested in the problem before them.
Xtreme - These people are like you, Detective. They want to solve the mystery. But they're not willing to bend the rules. Or break them.
Xtreme reaches back and grabs the chair from under the desk, startling the person who was under it. He yanks the chair up, keeping it in the air. Underneath, he can see something placed there in an envelope. He pulls off the envelope, stares at it, then throws the envelope down onto the person under the desk.
Xtreme - I've never been a fan of rules. They're... constraining.
Xtreme then rears back and swings the chair, hard, smashing it into the door. He doesn't stop there, swinging again and again, as the rest of the group stops in stunned silence.
Voice - Hey... HEY!! You... you can't do that!! Stop!!
Xtreme doesn't listen, continuing to batter the door. He manages to loosen it, then throws the chair aside and starts kicking away. In a matter of seconds, the door cracks open, flying against the wall outside. Nobody makes a move towards the door. They're all still shocked. Xtreme looks back at the camera.
Xtreme - Best way to solve a problem is to break something, Detective. And you? You're a problem to me.
Xtreme turns and heads out the door. The other people look around at each other, wondering what to do. This isn't the experience they paid for.
Person - Excuse me... can we get our money back? Or, like, another room?
Voice - I'm sorry, guys. We have a strict no-refund policy... hey, wait, what are you doing..... YYYAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
There is silence for a moment. Then Xtreme's voice comes through the speaker.
Xtreme - Your money's at the register. Collect it on your way out. As for you, Detective... I'll see you soon...
The mic goes silent. The other group members look at each other, shrug, and then leave, heading to the front register. We cut out.
A group of people are shown, standing inside a locked room. There is a chair and a desk in the corner, a file cabinet off to the side. A jacket hangs on a coat rack, and a number of photos are hung around the room. A voice can be heard, coming from the speakers above.
Voice - Okay, guys, you have sixty minutes to find out how to escape this room. Starting... now!
The other people in the room immediately begin to search for clues, checking in every corner. One is flipping through what appears to be a calendar, while another is searching through the pockets of the jacket that was hung. The third person is under the desk, looking for a hidden panel. The fourth person... hasn't moved. He turns towards the camera, which is recording from a corner above. It is Xtreme. He smiles at the camera.
Xtreme - This looks like the job for a detective.
Xtreme looks around the room at the other participants, who are completely ignoring him. They're invested in the problem before them.
Xtreme - These people are like you, Detective. They want to solve the mystery. But they're not willing to bend the rules. Or break them.
Xtreme reaches back and grabs the chair from under the desk, startling the person who was under it. He yanks the chair up, keeping it in the air. Underneath, he can see something placed there in an envelope. He pulls off the envelope, stares at it, then throws the envelope down onto the person under the desk.
Xtreme - I've never been a fan of rules. They're... constraining.
Xtreme then rears back and swings the chair, hard, smashing it into the door. He doesn't stop there, swinging again and again, as the rest of the group stops in stunned silence.
Voice - Hey... HEY!! You... you can't do that!! Stop!!
Xtreme doesn't listen, continuing to batter the door. He manages to loosen it, then throws the chair aside and starts kicking away. In a matter of seconds, the door cracks open, flying against the wall outside. Nobody makes a move towards the door. They're all still shocked. Xtreme looks back at the camera.
Xtreme - Best way to solve a problem is to break something, Detective. And you? You're a problem to me.
Xtreme turns and heads out the door. The other people look around at each other, wondering what to do. This isn't the experience they paid for.
Person - Excuse me... can we get our money back? Or, like, another room?
Voice - I'm sorry, guys. We have a strict no-refund policy... hey, wait, what are you doing..... YYYAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
There is silence for a moment. Then Xtreme's voice comes through the speaker.
Xtreme - Your money's at the register. Collect it on your way out. As for you, Detective... I'll see you soon...
The mic goes silent. The other group members look at each other, shrug, and then leave, heading to the front register. We cut out.