"If it's all the same, I'll take my own car," you say.
Adrienne shrugs.
"Whatever you wanna do."
She watches you climb into your car. You insert the key into the ignition, and the last thing you remember is something hard hitting the back of your head with a thud.
You wake up with a bright light in your eyes, blinding you to the darkened room beyond. You try to move, but find that you've been secured to a chair, heavy chains locked around your torso, arms and legs. You try to move around, but it's futile.
"I didn't want it to come to this," Adrienne said from somewhere out in the darkness. "But you wouldn't be a good boy and just play along."
She steps into your field of view, silhouetted by the spotlight. Standing beside her is an imposing-looking man who's built like a freight train.
"I'm afraid I'm going to need that account number now," she presses. "And, as cliched as it is, I figure I should at least give you the option of doing this the easy way or the hard way."
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