"Hey! Buddy! Are you alright?"
The sudden voice pierces unconsciousness. You promptly awake. Face pressed against cold, hard ground.
"Whoa," you utter.
A deep, monotonous sound hits your eardrums. That’s not your voice. You promptly remember the recent proceedings. The old woman. The bizarre story. The tape. The agonising transformation. You’re Neo. The Matrix character. Now lying face down. Naked.
“Buddy?”
Someone’s discovered your presence. Shit...
Fearful modesty removes slumber’s last dregs. Your eyes flash open. The green code flickers momentarily and vanishes. You leap to your feet, with new-found agility and fluidity.
You glimpse the nearby newcomer. A fifty year old man blocks the bathroom door. He's wearing a custodian's uniform, and a crooked, perverted smile. He’s balding with a large, sloping forehead. A thick, grey beard covers his jaw, emphasising his bulbous skull. He’s stout and overly wide. A mop lingers in his podgy hands.
"I bet you get this a lot," he begins. "But you're the splitting image of that 'Matrix' guy."
"Whoa," you merely utter.
"Sound like him too," the janitor laughs. "What are you doing, anyhow? Been waiting for me?"
You suddenly see the janitor's enormous erection. You promptly step backwards. Your bare back touches the solid, cold wall. The contact makes you jump.
"This is a mistake," you manage.
"Now. Now," the janitor says softly. "The store's locked tight. Everyone's gone home. No one will walk in. No one will… See."
"Whoa," you repeat meekly.
In absolute revulsion, you step backwards again. The wall’s persistent chill refreshes your memory.
"Come on, boy," the man beckons. "I came in here. What do I expect? You're asking for it. Buddy. It's been so very long since I've had a decent shag."
You back into the wall again. The room’s so small. The wall’s so narrow. The janitor’s blocking the exit. What now? What now?