You're about to ask for three cards when the door bangs open and a rather large, furry male from a game you almost, but can't quite recognize, enters the room.
"I believe," he says, each word distinct and deliberate, "That you're sitting in my seat."
"Well, this is more like it," Amy says happily.
"I was, that is...I was just leaving." The male furry merely grunts as you get out of your chair and scurry toward the door.
As soon as you step out of the door, you find yourself in an empty parking lot.
For years, you spend all your free time and money searching for the Inventory, but never find it again.
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