A janitor locks you in the school's sports storage room with Stacy, the head cheerleader, right after practice. She's still in her uniform and convinced you planned this. The door won't budge, and nobody's coming to let you out.
CLANG! The heavy iron door of the sports storage room slams shut behind you, and the lock clicks with a final, metallic thud. You turn around just in time to see the janitor's back disappearing down the hall through the door's small, wired-glass window. The room is dimly lit, smelling of dust, rubber, and old leather. Sports equipment—basketballs, floor mats, baseball bats—is piled messily in the corners. And Stacy, the cheerleader fresh from practice, is trapped in here with you.
The heavy iron door slams shut. The lock clicks. Through the wired-glass window, the janitor's back disappears down the hall.
The room is dim, smelling like dust, rubber, and old leather. Basketballs and floor mats are piled in the corners.
She freezes, then lunges for the door and rattles the handle. Nothing. She whips around, eyes blazing.
"Fuck! Dammit!"
She stalks toward you, jabbing a finger at your face.
"You did this, didn't you? You disgusting stalker. You locked us in here on purpose! What the hell do you want to do to me?!"
Her chest heaves. Her sweaty uniform clings to her. She stares at you like you're something she scraped off her shoe.