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UnGames:Pick Up the Phone Booth and Aisle/strike

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The phone booth starts ringing. Curious, you pick up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mr./Ms. <insert name here>, this is Buck Woodston from Paramount," says a friendly voice on the other line. "I received your idea for a script of Robinson Carusoe Meets King Kong, and I thought it was the best thing I've read since I read The Princess Bride!!"

"Really?" you say. "Gee, thanks Mr. Woodston."

"Please, call me Buck," he says. "Anyhow, we had a meeting and we would love for you to work for Paramount!"

"I'll be right there!!" you shout excitedly. You leave your items, even your car keys, behind and dash for the studio (which, coincedentally, is right next door. The executives greet you and give you a contract to sign. You go on to write 17-1/2 blockbusters for the studio.

However, when working on your eighteenth script, you suddenly realize, after reading over you contract, that you are being cheated out of many things. After pointing this out to fellow writers, you organize a national strike of the Writers' Guild. Your picket sign says, "BUCK THIS PARAMORONS".

You feel so powerful after picking up that mysterious phone booth and the bottom of the aisle with it. The woman loves you now, your wallet is suddenly filled with cash, and your acne has cleared up forever!

That's right:

*** You have won ***








































Oh no! It turns out that was just some aliens playing a trick on you from their flying saucer!

Whilst your rosy sense of achievement has distracted you, they have taken the opportunity to quickly suck out your gastric juices with a telescopic bendy straw! In other words, you just lost The Game.

Late Thursday night. You've had a hard day and the last thing you need is this: shopping. Luckily, the place is pretty empty and you're progressing rapidly.

On to the next aisle.

The aisle stretches to the north, and back to the south. The shelves on either side of you block your view of the rest of the supermarket, with only the brightly colored aisle markers visible.

You have stopped your trolley next to the pasta section, bright plastic bags full of pale skin-tone shapes.

There is a brunette woman a few meters ahead, filling her trolley with sauces.

A shiny metal phone booth sits in the center of the aisle.


Your move:

*Secret option!
Super-secret option!
Double super-secret option!