Marty pulled his gray vest in tighter, trying to keep out the chill October wind. He had just finished up an eight hour shift at work in the local convenience store and was looking to get home to relieve a little 'pressure.' Working with attractive but unattainable women all day was starting to grate on his calm. What's more, he had to take the brunt of frustration from a few hundred people looking to get their chocolate fix each day.
The instant he got home he planned to march straight up to his room, find some internet porn, and tease out a good load.
Even as he tried to distract himself, though, his thoughts couldn't help but wander to the skimpy paycheck he had tucked in his pocket; it would barely cover his back rent. He'd be eating ramen for another month, but at least he'd still have his apartment. He pulled it out and tore it open. Damn, it was even less than last month. Well, it would still cover rent. Just no fancy ramen. Just good, old-fashioned bread.
"Ouch. That hurts."
Marty turned around to see a tall, muscular man in a nice suit who had been reading his paycheck over his shoulder. "Pardon me?"
The man grinned, but didn't look contrite. "Sorry. It's just that I'm a financial planner, so seeing a paycheck like that hurts me on a personal and professional level."
Marty was about to retort with a biting remark, but the man cut him off. "Actually, I think I can help. My firm is actually holding a little event, asking people from all walks of life some pretty boring questions about money and lifestyle. The pay is pretty good -- 500 bucks for one night of free food and drinks, with a little bit of talking."
That stopped Marty dead. 500 bucks that easy? Any money that wasn't going straight to rent was a miracle! He didn't think twice before he agreed -- something he would regret a good deal later.
"My beamer's this way," said the mystery man with the ready smile. "The name's Roger, by the way."
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An hour later and Roger was still driving them both through the country. Outside the BMW's very nice windows, an increasingly dark forest whizzed by.
Marty coughed politely. "I don't mean to look a gift horse in it's very nice mouth, but is it going to be much further? I wasn't really expecting it to take so long to get there."
"Actually, this is sort of a corporate retreat too -- they usually hold stuff like this a pretty decent distance from the city. Y'know, for a relaxed atmosphere."
That made sense. Marty'd heard of stuff like that, if not actually taken part in anything of the sort.
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Half an hour later, Roger pulled the car up a a gravel driveway to a large dark house that seemed to be miles from anything.
"Huh. Everyone else must be out to dinner. Bad timing on our part, I guess," said Roger.
Marty nodded. At least he could get out of this car and stretch his legs. The huge house loomed ominously in front of him. With an odd premonition and a single gulp, Marty followed Roger into the house.
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"Care for a drink?" asked Roger as he flipped on the lights, revealing a massive living room with hardwood floors and dark wood furniture that probably cost twice Marty's paycheck for each piece.
"Uh...sure. Whatever you got. I'm gonna use the restroom, if I can."
"Sure thing -- down that hallway, first door on your left."
When Marty came back, Roger was seated in a large, high-backed leather chair with a glass of bourbon in his hand. He gestured for Marty to sit on the large couch facing him, where another glass of bourbon rested on the endtable.
