“Sure are!” Leland answers.
“Got your name tags all printed out here. Just peel them off and stick them on your shirts so our lovely staff can interact with you. And then put your phones in that locker there,” she says before cocking her head as she looks at the stickers. Leland’s all smiles as he takes them. He smacks a Seymour Shhlong nametag onto himself, a Derrick Derriere onto Cassel, and a Freddy Fallus onto Jackson.
“Leland… why?” Jackson asks. It’s such a pleading sound.
“We need our code names. And what’s the sense in using our code names if you’re going to blatantly announce to everyone my real name?”
Henry gets a “Sugar Daddy” and Tavish gets a blank one.
“Why the fuck does this piss me off even more?” Tavish asks. “Everyone else gets a name but me?”
Leland grins, pleased by the problem. “Oh nooooo. How saaaaad.”
“Leland, he’s the birthday boy,” Jackson reminds him.
Leland sighs and picks up a marker which he uses to write “Tavish the Terrible” on Tavish’s name sticker. Clearly, Tavish didn’t need a code name.
He slaps mine on, and I have to pull my shirt up to get a look at where it says, “Enchanting Ellis.”
“Aww. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I still think you’re sketchy, but you’re welcome.”
And with “Magic Micah” and “I’m running out of ideas” (who is Jeremy) all set, we head into the room we’re directed to. A very bubbly man greets us with a fake sword and an even faker parrot that just hangs there at an unnatural angle.
“Arrr. Such a shame, such a shame that you thought you’d board my ship looking for my treasure! You’re never going to get out alive. Into the cells ya go. Two by two by two!”
“What if we can’t count that high?” Leland asks.
The man flicks his plastic sword at him, which just results in Leland poking the tip. “Pointy,” he comments as he ushers Jackson into a cell. Very confused by what’s happening, I follow Tavish into another cell. There are two cells on each side of the room with bars that allow us to see each other. And outside the cells is a door that seems to lead to the next part of the escape room.
“Well now, don’t make a fuss, I’m only going to make ya walk the plank when I get a bit of free time,” the man says. “See ya soon.”
And then the guy leaves.
“Are we murdering him?” Tavish asks uncertainly. “Is that why we’re here?”
“I mean, his acting was atrocious, but I’m not sure it’s worth killing him over… I think,” Leland muses.
“Don’t murder anyone,” Jackson says in horror. “We’re playing the game.”
“Like… for real, real? This is a game?” Tavish seems confused.
Since the only thing in the cell I’m in with Tavish is a crate of bottles, I push it to the side to see if anything is behind or under it. But when I lean over to check, I catch something in Leland’s cell. “Look, I can see the edge of a hole there.”
“I am quite a hole seeker,” Leland says as he jimmies a loose board out of the way.
“Jackson, I need you to get through.”
“Why the hell would I climb through the hole? It’s probably to pass something through.”
“To play the game.”
“I’m positive stuffing my body through that small hole isn’t part of this game.”
“I’m positive it is.” Leland comes up behind him and knocks his knees into the back of Jackson’s before he starts oozing him onto the floor.
“Leland, I will not fit.”
