You were approached by a coworker, who said they’d found a great place at a hotel, where anything goes. Your girlfriend recently cheated on you, and dumped you, so you thought: “Why not? After all, why shouldn’t I have some fun?” So you sent a letter to the address they gave you, and got a letter back with a shiny membership card and an address: “The Devil’s Playground”, a 5-star Hotel in the heart of the city.
You collect your courage, and one Sunday make your way over there. You go to the hotel, show your membership card, and a staff member takes you to one of the elevators, tapping a combination of buttons before it starts moving down.
“Dear Patron, I ask this out of an abundance of caution.”
The old staff member looks at you, smiling.
“Do you have any second thoughts? Once you go in there, the only way out is by signing a contract with one of the operators of the local branch.”
A contract?
“You mean like an NDA?”
The old staff member nods.
“Something like that.”
The bell of the elevator dings, and he looks at you, waiting for confirmation that you’ve understood what he’s told you.
“In that case, welcome, to the Devil’s Playground.”
The doors open to reveal beautiful marble halls, and a beautiful woman that should not exist. Red skin, black horns, purple eyes, blue hair, dressed in a beautiful silk dress, beaming at you.
“It is such an honor to meet you, you.”
