A feeling of foreboding slithered up their spines as they sat motionlessly in the all-enveloping darkness -- darkness that left them cold and uneasy. Though they sat close enough to each other to hear the other's breath in the silence, somehow the blackness thrust them into a feeling of being utterly alone. This long, gloomy journey deeper into obscurity…was it a reflection of the chaos and hopelessness of their lives? Oh Hell, who am I kidding! The two knuckleheads were just blindfolded in the back of a taxicab, and they were actually feeling pretty pleased with themselves.
"I can't believe we won this, Gerald!" Chester twittered excitedly turning toward the left where he was fairly certain his companion sat, "It's the first bug thing I've ever won!"
"Yeah," Gerald replied, "besides being voted most likely to get run over by a stampede of moose in high school." He paused and touched his face, as if he had to make sure the blindfold was indeed still there. "But it is weird that we have to be blindfolded on the way there…."
"Well, it is a secret island facility, man. I guess they've got some pretty sweet tech up there. They don't want just anyone knowing where it is. And Hell, we even got to fly in a private jet to get here! Dunno about you, but it makes me feel downright important." Chester leaned back in his seat and wiggled his spine into the fading black upholstery.
Gerald was slightly more skeptical about the transportation arrangement than his friend, but it wasn't like he had anything better to do. He did look forward to playing with experimental VR technology. He was just about to voice his thoughts on the transportation the other winners may receive when the shabby taxicab shuddered to a sudden halt, shoving Gerald and Chester forward into the backs of the driver and passenger chairs. Their now-locked seat belts quickly returned their bent bodies back to their seats, pinning them there.
"Hey, watch it, asshole!" Gerald snapped at the driver. Not one second later, he heard his door open, rather more aggressively than he though it should be opened, and he felt someone grab hold of his shirt collar and yank him out of the car as effortlessly as if he were a wet noodle. Ok, the driver is a big man...duly noted.
The same happened to Ches a moment later, and they were then escorted into a building, though "escorted" may be too gentle a word for it. The boys couldn't see it, but the building was a worn-down old warehouse with dead or nearly-dead palm trees attached haphazardly to its rusty metal siding. Above the loading dock doors was a paper banner that had the words "Welcome to paradise, lucky winners!" written on it in what looked like Crayola marker. That same tacky sun clipart from the envelope was emblazoned on the end of the banner, its smug smile mocking the two dopes who were to be the first guinea pigs.
Shoved through the entrance, Ches and Gerald heard the heavy thud of the big iron door slam behind them, and suddenly the world was in view again. They squinted through the harsh artificial light that bathed the lobby in a yellowish hue. It was a fairly large room, from what they could see. A high harvest-gold counter that looked like to was pulled from the year 1973 sat directly in front of them. Placed on the counter were the normal office lobby accessories: a tape dispenser, some pens, a tacky flower arrangement which also looked to have been fresh some time in the 70's, and a drinky bird. The bird's eyes were glued on crookedly, and Ches could swear it was giving him a sidelong leer as it dipped up and down in vain to quench its perpetual thirst.
Gerald glanced behind him at the colossal beast of a man who had removed his blindfold: their driver. Gerald grinned apologetically, which was met with a scowl from the Goliath.
"Ah thank you, that will be enough, Davis." a voice sounded from behind the front desk. To Gerald, it was the voice of his new guardian angel, who just saved his face from a good pummeling he was sure. This so-called guardian angel rose from behind the counter and revealed himself to be a stereotypical "mad scientist" type -- frizzy hair and all. Not the typical guardian angel, but he'd take him. The Goliath Davis slinked off to one of the side rooms and let the door slam behind him, obviously perturbed about not being able to smack around the scrawny smartass he'd just driven 50 miles from the airport.
"So, you boys must be Mr. Calhoun and Mr. Garrett. It's nice to have you with us." the scientist said and began walking to a large room in the rear. He gestured for them to follow him. "Sorry about the transportation, but this is top-secret technology that you will have the honor of using. We have to take every precaution, you understand."
Chester elbowed Gerald in the ribs. "I told you." he muttered.
"You are the first to arrive," the scientist continued and stopped near a coffee-maker in the back room, "so just make yourselves comfortable and we'll wait for the others. I want to make sure you all get to know each other before we start. Help yourselves to some coffee or snacks while you wait." He gestured to a plate of cookies that looked decidedly sketchy, but to two moronic men who thought with their stomachs before their brains, they were most attractive, indeed. In fact, before the man even left the room, Chester had already managed to stuff two in his mouth. The scientist turned and grinned, then shut the door behind him. A distinct click of the lock followed.
