Well, nothing ever came easy from this point onwards.

I still had a headache, everyone was either really slow or tired, and some of us couldn't deal with the world anymore.

I was about to pass the decorated keys to the baseball... guy, when I heard the ghost girl whining about her fucking appearance. I nearly lost it (I did have a headache), although I really had to stay calm so that... well, here was my plan:
1. Get transport
2. Find that Ronald wanker
3. Find Ronald, and get him to explain today's events
4. Possibly kill him (this was optional) or get him to follow us around
5. Find a solution to all of this

I mean, come on... we all transformed into these beloved video game characters. Surely there was a cure for all of this - it was probably a disease after all. I thought a lot of time passed when really, looking out an unbroken window, it was still morning, albeit late morning. The room was undisturbed as usual, with a jar or two broken from our tails. On our right was the stairs/fire exit, in which the door looked rather worn and old. Presumably, downstairs would lead to the garage. So, as everyone made their way to the door, I opened the thing and lead the way downstairs. I think people were both in front and behind me, but I was too busy rushing to care.

"Right, let's get moving... and please, we've all had a bad day. Stop whining and follow us downstairs."

To getting down to the garage should've been easy. But, the stairs were quite narrow, even for a human. I nearly tripped five times on the way down, making frying pan-like noises against the white cement-brick wall. The place was dimly lit, strange when the power was cut. Of course, I figured Bolton would never liked this place to have a power cut, so he had a back-up generator somewhere...

As I made to the final floor and opened the door, I began swearing... "Ah, fuck." Most of the cars were already taken. Someone had burst through the garage door, which lead to a ramp and up towards the street. All the remaining were either gone or dented badly... thankfully, out of the five cars still around, one still remained with impressive might. It had a few scratches, but it would do. I began walking over, cautious of anything that could happen while hearing a few windows cracking from the street. The garage itself seemed unremarkable, not exactly bright yet still illuminating the white walls. The floor was concrete and unpainted, while the ceiling could just fit the big vehicle.

"Come on, let's get into this huge truck!" Okay. It wasn't a ute (because they're quite ugly), but it looked like somebody had crossed an armoured van with a SUV and a sports car. Surely the keys would work... they'd have to, since they were the only ticket to get us out of here. If nobody else could break through those doors, how could we ever get inside?

But, we had bigger problems. I had let out a surprised groan, because I was struck in the wing by a rock. The thing that made the hole was a Graveler sitting by the giant truck and he didn't look friendly. "I was hoping for someone to come along with some keys!" He began rolling around, and I just barely leaped away from his path as he started to barrel towards my new-found friends...

"Guys, get out of the way!"