Congratulations on Keeping the Blood Off Your Suit (Mostly)!

When you awake this morning something will be off.

You’ll be in a strange place with no memory of how you arrived so, like most of our predictees, you’ll be comfortable in that respect. But you’ll also be fully clothed in what appears to be a moderately priced tuxedo and someone will be in bed with you. That’s two things that will, at this point, never have happened to you before.

Curious you’ll begin to reach around, gently exploring your apparent partner’s flesh with one lazy hand. You’ll encounter the soft, cold tissue of what feels like an attractive, toned young woman. She’ll also be clothed, at least partly, and as you trace your hand down her body towards her crotch to see if the two of you had sex last night you’ll be shocked when you feel a cold, wet spot on the mattress.

You’ll awake with a start and leap out of bed, fully expecting that you’ve soiled yourself and the increasingly uncomfortable and probably rented suit that you’re wearing. You’ll feel a moment of relief when you examine yourself and find that you don’t have any wet spots on your clothing. You won’t have soiled yourself this time.

That relief will turn to dread almost immediately as you take in the scene of the room. Your bed mate will remain immobile in bed, covered in blood. You’ll gather, from your hours spent watching CSI, that she must’ve been placed there after she was killed, since the only blood on your suit will be on your hand and the spot you touched on your collar while nervously loosening your tie. Her body will be covered by the sheets.

You’ll slow your breathing and try to think like a detective, taking inventory of the room. There won’t be a lot to take stock of. It’ll be a hotel room, as generic as they come. A single double bend, an end table with a lamp, two wall sconces and a short, narrow hall with two doors.

The only distinguishing feature will be the woman, still covered by the duvet. You’ll lift it, just to see if she was hot and, to be your surprise, a piece of paper will be rammed into her shocked, pretty little mouth.

“A clue!” you’ll exclaim to no one in particular.

You’ll unfold it and see that it contains a brief address.

Clearly someone will want you to head to this address. So much so that they’re willing to frame you for murder to get you there and buy you a tuxedo so you’ll be appropriately dressed no matter where “there” is. They’ll likely even have risked touching your penis in order to get you into the tuxedo.

Sighing you’ll retie your tie, resolving to follow the clue. The walk through the halls and the ride down the elevator to the hotel lobby will be unnervingly mundane. You’ll wish you weren’t wearing the tuxedo when you breeze past the doorman and give him a nod, but he’ll barely notice you, i-Pod buds in his ears, boilerplate frown on his lips.

You’ll thumb the spot of blood on your collar unconsciously, thanking whatever higher power there is that this happened in New York and not somewhere where people might notice a man in a partially bloodied tuxedo walking around the streets in the middle of the day.

Congratulations on Keeping the Blood Off Your Suit (Mostly)!