It sure has been a freakin' long day. The (link: "sofa")[used bus seat] is looking comfier than it has in years. You switch on [[ye olde boob tube|News Story]] to unwind and give your thinkbox the downtime it so desperately craves.
[[It seems the media aren't the only ones around here with opinions no one asked for|Prologue2]]An overly-made-up anchorwoman recounts what passes for news these days:
"Once again, the Giant Monkey Man has imposed stricter travel regulations upon the Ninth Dimension. Passage is restricted solely to authorized personnel. Of course, diplomats and other various government officials are exempt."
[[Yep. Sounds like a typical Tuesday.|Prologue1]]
Damn pencil-pushers."What's wit you today?" you hear a grating but familiar voice object.
"Don' tell me ya got stiffed AGAIN!"
A short, rugged, pale-skinned cabby who looks like he rolled out of bed two weeks late approaches you. It's Brady.
"Oh, come on, Brady," you reply empathetically. "You know it's just as bad for them out there as it is for us."
"Yeah yeah. But charity ain't payin' the bills 'round here! I'm serious, pal, you gotta take this seriously. If we don't scrape up 5,000 bills by de end o' next week, they're gonna give us the boot! You don't wanna be left at the mercy of the [[DRA|DRA]], do ya?"
You wipe your brow internally. [[That's the last thing you want.|Prologue3]]DRA. The "Desitute Relocation Agency".
These Einsteins were tasked by the feds with the task of "relocating" poor folk out of the way of loyal taxpayers due to a misguided effort by some scumbag politician to make himself appear "charitable". Typically, this meant being dumped in some kinda lowlife community that had just enough rundown apartments to spare. Nasty neighbors. And worse jobs to be found.
[[Nobody wants to be sent HERE, if they can avoid it|Prologue2]](set: $days to 7)
"Yeah...you're right," you answer reluctantly. You'd hate to let your partner down.
"So what did you find? [[Any good prospects?|Leads]]"You look at the calendar.
Only $days days left.
[["Alright. Here's what I managed to scrape up."|Customer1]]<!--Multiple endings are possible based on how much money the player has at the end--!>
(if: $money is 0)
(elseif: $money > 0 and $money < 1000)
(elseif: $money > 1000 and $money < 2000)
(elseif: $money > 2000 and $money < 3000)
(elseif: $money > 3000 and $money < 4000)
(elseif: $money > 4000)"Your first customer will go to the pier. He's a bit of an oddball. I dunno what they want, but it seems like they only want to head to the pier. ...Well, they're paying, so what do I care? Anyway. [[They'll be at the station any minute now."|Customer1-1]](if: (history:) contains "Prologue3")[Days remaining: $days Money Earned: $$money]
You want him to pay, but he wouldn't be able to afford his wedding if he didn't....Wow. This guy really sucks, and he's nervous as all hell. I almost feel bad for him.
...I gotta make money though.Hmm. I could give him some easy questions, but should i?You step outside the station to wait for your [[client|Client1]]. Oddly enough, you can't see what's so strange about him. Dunno why he had to get a ride on a day like today. The pier is several miles out of the way, and the weather is crap. Oh well. It's his money.
[["Where to, mac?"|Customer1-2]]Doesn't <i>seem</i> like that much of a "weirdo". Looks, to you, like a regular young man dressed in an extravagant blue tuxedo; complete with carnation, stylish black bow tie, and inky-black hair neatly styled into an elegant combover. He's fidgeting impatiently; as if there's something urgent he desperately needs to do.
[[Welp, you're not getting paid to stare at people.|Customer1-1]]You open the door for him, and he frantically scrambles inside the cab.
"Oh thank the [[Benevolont Dice Shakers|BenevolentDiceShakers]] you're on time! I was starting to get worried I'd be late."
Again, with the fidgeting.
You have one hell of a long drive ahead of you, so your client decides to make some conversation.
"I'm sorry to call you out here in this terrible weather, but I promise this is super important. You see, I'm running a bit late for a wedding."
"I gathered that," you reply. "But why do you need to go to the pier?"
"Oh didn't I tell you?" he responds; genuinely surprised. "My bride is a mermaid."
(text-style: "shudder")[...You damn near choke on your own coffee!]
[["What did you say?!"|Customer1-3]]Some people wonder where the universe came from. In reality, it's not actually that complex. Just a bunch of nerds with too much time on their hands. What started out as a simple orc-slaying campaign got out of hand REAL fast.
...Let's just say there were a lot of natural 20's rolled that night.
[[Anyhoo, that's enough philosophical pondering for one lifetime.|Customer1-2]]"Haha. Good one," you nervously reply.
"No! I'm serious! It's this evening, and I'm not sure I'll have enough to afford that wet suit we need to live together."
He glances over at the meter.
"I mean, I'm sure I can, but we're going to have to cut a lot of corners afterward."
You finally reach the pier. You can see the young man's forehead practically drenched with sweat.
You could [[waive the fare just this once|CustomerEnd1_Waive]], but then again...[[that's less to pay the bills|CustomerEnd1_PayFare]].You mull it over in your head for quite a while, but you eventually decide you can't do that to the poor guy.
"N-no charge..." you respond reluctantly.
"R-really?!" the young man blurts out. "Wow! Thank you so much! I promise my fiance and I will save you the very best wine from our wedding party! See you later!"
He skips off as happy as can be.
[[Brady's not going to like this.|Leads2]]"That'll be five hundred bucks," you tell the young man as the two of you come to a stop.
He pays reluctantly, and steps out of the cab fidgeting even more nervously before. You see him anxiously pulling out his phone as you drive off.
(set: $money to $money + 500)
You begin to wonder if you've truly done the right thing, but hey [[at least you're a step closer to paying off those bills|Leads2]]You return home; anxious to get in front of the boob tube again. You just want nothing more than to park your butt down and let all the cares in the world just melt away.
Sadly, duty calls, and in this case, duty's name was "Brady".
"Listen up!" he announces. "This'll get us out of the hole for sure! I just cooked up another great scheme."
[[You listen in; hoping that whatever he cooked up doesn't end up burnt.|Customer2-1]]"For this assignment, I want you to go to the Reality TV dimension."
<i>"Dice Shakers, spare me,"</i> you think to yourself, and frown in disgust.
Brady could sense your resentment from a mile away.
"Now, I know what yous is thinkin', but bear with me here, we can make GIGANTIC bucks from puttin' on a quiz show in this very cab! I got everything all rigged up last night."
You are about to just get on with it when Brady interrupts.
"Just one thing, though. MAKE SURE THEY GET THE QUESTIONS WRONG. Failure does wonders for ratings, y'know. And I don't think I have to remind you we need all the ratings we can get."
[[You nod and finally get on your way.|Customer2-2]]The Reality TV dimension...
A regular hive of bullies, con artists, and gossippers. Everyone around you is creeping around the windows of various buildings; attempting to pry into their neighbor's private life for even the tiniest snapshot of something embarassing. Some of them don't even care about the money. ONE FRAME is all they need to humiliate a rival forever.
You grow sick to your stomach just from looking at the place. The sooner you get outta this dump, the better.
Uh oh! No time for sightseeing. [[Here comes's a contestent.|Customer2-3]]You plaster on the fakest smile you can possibly muster, and greet the contestent to--you can't believe this is what Brady actually came up with--"Dollar Drive"!
An overly-enthusiastic woman who came into your cab explodes with excitement.
"OH EM GEE! ARE YOU FOR REAL?! I'VE NEVER BEEN ON A GAME SHOW BEFORE!"
Hoo boy. [[This is gonna be rich.|Customer2-4]]You recall the rules, and explain that she will win $1000 if she can answer one question correctly before you reach your stop. However, she'll still have to pay the fare if she gets it wrong. You begin looking through your deck to find a question to ask her.
[[Now then, what to ask?|Customer2-5]]
You look through your database of questions. It appears like you could ask one of the following:
[[What was the cause of the Pie War of 3036?|Customer2A_Hard]]
[[What is 2 times 10|Customer2A_Easy]]You can hear mumbling to herself in the back seat; trying her hardest to recall her high school history courses. Of course, even for high school, this was still a tricky question to answer. The truth of the matter was, it was a trick question.
The Pie War could have had many causes. It could have been as simple as one of the clown people getting enraged from slipping on a banana peel or as complicated as someone from the Bakery Dimension being unwilling to give up his secret recipe for the sake of unifying their people. Any way she went about it, the answer would undoubtedly be wrong.
She growls in frustration!
"Urgh! I don't know! Was it...because of the Pastry Incident of 3015?"
BZZT! WRONG!
You finally stop and she gets out.
"GAH! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU PEOPLE! WHAT A DIRTY TRICK! YOU KNOW NOBODY ACTUALLY KNOWS THE ANSWER TO THAT QUESTON!!!"
She pays you the fare and slams the door in your face.
You almost feel guilty about it, but...she deserved it, right?
[[You continue on to find another contestent.|Customer2-6]]
(set: $money to $money + 1000)She mills it over for about five minutes, then looks over with the most conceited expression you may have ever seen on a human. You had merely asked a simple math problem, and here she was grinning as if she had found the cure to the common cold. You try your best to refrain from pointing this out.
"Um...20?"
DING DING! CORRECT!
"Ha! As if I'd actually lose! You guys need to step up your game."
You strain yourself resisting the urge to tell her that she took five minutes to arrive at the answer to a simple math problem, and just bring her to her stop and hand her the prize.
Glad that band-aid's ripped off. Good riddance. [[Let's see who the next moron is.|Customer2-6]]You find your next contestent waiting at the corner. This one, at least, appears to be a touch more humble than the one before him. It's a young scholar waiting patiently to be picked up at the curb. He doesn't seem to be any particular hurry; nor does he expect what exactly is in store for him in your cab.
You announce to him that he's on a game show, but he doesn't seem to have the same reaction as the last woman. His reaction is more a combination of joy and genuine shock; as if he never even imagined he was capable of being a contestent.
"W-well, don't leave me hanging," he insists. "Bring it on!"
[[You begin to wonder what kind of question you should ask him.|Customer2-7]]You manage to find a couple of questions that could work:
[[What is the meaning of life?|Customer2-7B_Hard]]
[[How do you sell ice to eskimos?|Customer2-7B_Medium]]
[[What is the opposite of black?|Customer2-7B_Easy]]All he can do is sit there, mouth agape, until you finally reach your stop. You can practically hear the gears in his head turning. You can practically smell the fuses in his mind shorting out. The poor guy had just about as much as he could take.
Naturally, this was to be expected. As Brady had instructed you earlier, this question was to be your ace-in-the-hole; the one you pull out when you encounter a customer who does not look like they can be defeated.
Well, you won, but the young man didn't look like he's doing too good. In fact, he seemed like he was about to die of humiliation just by approaching the building. Secretly, you hope he does well, but you're far from confident.
[[Ah well. Back to the station.|EndCheck]]The young man's eyes perk up with inspiration.
"Oh! Now that's a good one. Let's see..."
He begins talking about the principles of "supply and demand", "market value", and a bunch of other businessy mumbo-jumbo you'd have to pull out a dictionary to even begin comprehending.
Based solely on how confident he sounds, you eventually just assume that he's correct and award him the prize.
As it turns out, he was on his way to a job interview for, and he left the cab feeling a ton more confident.
[[You make your way back to the station.|EndCheck]]The young man just stares at you in disbelief.
"...Are you even kidding me right now? How stupid do you think I am?! Ugh. I don't know why I'm surprised. It's not like anyone else takes me seriously. Just...drop me off and be done with it, will you? I don't even care about the prize anymore."
You reluctantly stop and the young man storms out, but hey, at least you made money off the deal.
(set: $money to $money + 1000)
[[You better just head back...|EndCheck]]<!--Multiple endings are possible based on how much money the player has at the end--!>
(if: $money is 0)[(goto: "BadEnd")]
(elseif: $money > 0 and $money < 1000)[(goto: "PoorEnd")]
(elseif: $money > 1000 and $money < 2000)[(goto: "NeutralEnd")]
(elseif: $money > 2000 and $money < 3000)[(goto: "GoodEnd")]
Looking back on everything that happened, you really didn't do half bad. You and Brady scraped up enough to afford a cozy little joint in the burbs. Looking out the window, you already see much more pleasant scenery than what you had found back at the station, but somehow you feel guilty.
...Are your customers really okay?You were able to scrape something up. It wasn't much, but hey. At least you'll be out of the hands of the DRA. You end Brady ended up finding a quaint little beat up shack on the outskirts of town. It isn't much, but it's home.
You can't help but remember all the people you helped, and it makes the pain a little more bearable.Well, this is it. You couldn't bring in any money at all. It's over. Granted, some people ended up happier for it, but at what cost?
The DRA will be here soon to take you away.You did it! You finally did it! You're LOADED! Goodbye, dingy old station, and good riddance! You're living the high life now! All around you, you can find those poor saps who mocked you, who made fun of you, who said you couldn't make it. You sure showed them!
However, as the days go on, you feel less and less secure about your victory. The money that once brought you joy just doesn't anymore. You start thinking about the people you scammed as well. Was it worth it?