[b][X] - Take one item from the good Pharmacist.[1]

[X] - A tube of 100 Vitamix-Plus Gummies - Red, Blue, Green, Yellow, you think you even see a little bit of magenta in there. [1][/b]

[hr]

You remember the warning words the pharmacist gave you before you departed. 

“ Take one if you’re feeling unwell. Two for emergencies. Only take more if you are near death.” The iron memory of his grip on your hand comes painfully back when he dragged you close to him. His last warning was spoken as if he was begging. “ And don’t ever eat three of the same color.” 

Taking in the stale air, you take a look back at the ruined Top Shelf from which you fell from before heading out. It’s quiet. Emptier than usual. The bustling bazaars and samplers who would be following you like hungry flies are almost non-existent today. Only a few wander the streets and they do so hurriedly, like cockroaches fleeing from the shadow of a foot. 

You walk alone towards the entrance from which you originally entered the Bargain Bin. The counter is now a ruined pile of slag and plastic. You spot a man decked in a full-body suffocating diving suit pull out a sharpened match stick out of a wall and toss it into a pile of other assorted weapons - Q-Tips, plungers, anything that the Smiler horde could get its hands on. You stop just as a Shopping Cart comes through, its hover jets sputtering to lift up the load of dozens of dead bodies it carries. 

There’s a loud shout of commotion and your muscles tense up in anticipation of yet another unexpected Smiler attack. Thankfully, it’s not. The source of it is coming near the entrance where a dozen guards standing in a ring are pushing away a crowd of aislers from cola merchants to dorfen workmen. You work your way through the angry crowd to make it to the front. Why were all of these people so angry? As if recognising your confusion, one guard walks up to you and puts up a hand. 

“ Sorry, stationari.”  The guard shook his head. “ I can’t let you go out through this gate. The Bargain Guard’s been ordered to keep all aislers away from this area until the situation has been rectified.” 

“ I can handle myself out there.”  

The guard narrows his eyes and rubs the dark circles around it. Your eyes recognise the signs of fatigue on him. Not just general exhaustion but battle fatigue. Every patch of exposed skin under his cardboard vest is covered in scratches or bruises. His scabrous knuckles are an angry red and he's almost leaned over in a slouch, as if his body wants to sleep upright. You swear you can even see burnt rent scars, tinged green, on his tupperware helmet. You then come to a realization. 

It's not from the angry and riotous aislers they've been fighting all day.

It's from what's outside that gate. 

“ Oh, you think you can handle a rabid pack of Amboluceti? In fact, have you ever seen an amboluceti before?” He cuts you off rudely before you can get a word in. “ No, you haven’t. If you had, you wouldn’t  be asking me this stupid question in the first place. As far as I’m concerned, I’m not going to get in trouble with my superior for letting some binge buyer with a paper sword waltz by me and get himself trounced by six Amboluceti around the next aisle.” 

He sticks his nose and stares unflinchingly up into your eyes, awaiting whatever words you have to say. 

[X] - Force your way through.

[X] - Intimidate the guard.

[X] - Find another way through.