Myrna Frampstein, Receptionist

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Myrna Frampstein, Receptionist
Myrna Frampstein, Receptionist

You knock at the front door of a house on the Right Side of the Tracks. There's no answer, and it takes you a minute to realize the house is in fact a small office building. Slightly embarrassed, you push the door open and wander inside.

The waiting room is furnished with plastic potted plants that somehow nevertheless look half dead, a selection of ancient magazines that might be worth a pretty stack to the right collector, and a bespectacled receptionist with her hair knotted in a tight bun.

She looks up from her crossword puzzle, blinks at you slowly like a tortoise, and shakes her head. "You must be the paperclip salesman," she says. "Sorry, but we've got plenty. Come back next quarter."

You shrug and turn to leave, after grabbing some candy from the fishbowl on her desk.

Jawbreaker.gifYou acquire an item: elderly jawbreaker