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UnGames:Pick Up the Phone Booth and Aisle/usephone

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How convenient, you needed to make a call!

You enter the phonebooth and are about to put some change in when the phone starts ringing. Puzzled, you look around outside. No-one else seems to have noticed. Hesitantly you pick up the receiver.

"Hello?" you say, a little nervously

"Do not move." Commands a deep, resounding voice, "I am holding an AE sniper rifle and you are clearly in my line of fire. From this range the impact would blow your head clean off."

You glance around, terrified, wondering if this is some sick hoax. "Whu, what?" you mumble, unable to quite control your voice. At that moment a jar of pickles on the shelf next to you explodes.

"That was just a warning shot. If you move again, it will be straight through your forehead."

A small part of you acknowledges that this could have just been an enormous coincidence, but you're unwilling to take that chance. You are briefly aware that you have soiled yourself- this gives you some resolve to escape from whatever the hell's happening, just to save the embarrassment of being discovered dead with your pants covered in shit. Mastering your quavering chest, you manage to ask:

"Wh, what do you want?"

"I want you to come clean." Says the voice.

"About what... To who?"

"Whom."

"...What?"

"You mean 'to whom', not 'to who'"

Sighing heavily you reply "For fuck's sake, you goddamn grammar nazis, I-" But at that moment you feel another bullet whistle past your ear, shattering two of the panes of glass in the booth;

"THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH SPEAKING ENGLISH PROPERLY!" Screams the voice in a white-hot rage-

"Jesus fucking Christ, alright! To whom, to whom!"

The voice is silent for a moment- "I'm sorry" it says, "I lost my composure a little. Where were we?"

"Uhh," you reply, "You were about to let me go?"

"Very amusing. Oh yes: I want you to come clean to your wife"

There is a long pause; "What?" You say, in genuine puzzlement.

"I want to admit to your wife about your affair"

Says the voice, darkly. You are silent for a moment before replying:

"But I'm not married..."

There is a long, tense pause...

"Do not lie to me, Mr. Shepherd."

"That's... that's not my name..."

"...What?"

"My name is Johnson" You say.

"Aww, fuck." Says the voice, "I've got the wrong goddamn person..."

Utterly mystified, you keep quiet-

"Well, I'm just gonna get the piss taken out of me if this gets out" he says, "So I think I'm just going to have to kill you."

At that moment you are both shot by the writer of "Phonebooth"

*** YOU WERE KILLED BECAUSE OF A COPYRIGHT ***


But wait...

You feel a tremendous wrench – the hand of God coming down to wipe clean the temporal chalkboard. The world dissolves, and then quickly floods back into existence, restoring its state as it was before you made your move.

But somehow, things aren't set up exactly the same as last time....

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!

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