It's a dark autumn night as you walk through the damp grey streets of New York City. It's an unusually quiet night for the city that never sleeps, with only a few cars passing by as you appreciate the brisk night air.
However, despite how alone you feel, you know you can never be too careful, and quickly slip into a nearby alleyway, making sure that no one is following you. Once you're sure you're not being tailed, you turn to a nearby building. The large sign plastered on in blue letters on the side of the building read 'Kent Amusements', but that wasn't what you were here for. You were here for the smaller, more humble sign that hung from the brick wall below it.
The sign consisted of a brown arch with the words 'The Inventory' written in white letters. Suspended below the arch were three miniature brown crates, the logo of the most secretive and prestigious gambling establishment in all the multiverse. Below that was a small lamp, and below that, was the front door.
Or at least, that was where the front door should have been. Instead, you were met with only a red brick wall that looked like it had been there for decades; it was as if there was never a door there to begin with. You look around in a panic, confused, until a voice suddenly snaps you out of your confusion.
"Oh my gosh, it's you! You're here!" said a voice from behind you.
Suddenly standing behind you was a very strange man with brown hair and wearing an orange construction worker's uniform. That, in and of itself, wasn't unusual; you saw people dressed like that in New York all the time. What was unusual was that his skin was yellow, and that he seemed to be made entirely of plastic. You aren't sure how he's moving his painted-on mouth.
"What are you standing out here for? Why aren't you inside, with all you friends?" he asks.
You turn towards the door and his face suddenly lights up with recognition.
"Oh, right, the door! Sorry about that" he said before running towards the missing door.
The LEGO man suddenly starts taking out and rearranging the bricks of the wall like they were toys, and he does it so quickly that your eyes fail to keep up. Eventually he manages to somehow magically rearrange the bricks into a door, which he opens.
"After you" he said, holding the door open and bowing.
You walk through the door and down the stairs into the catacombs of The Inventory, the LEGO man following closely behind.
"My name's Emmet, by the way" he said, trying to strike up a conversation. "I'm sorry that we forgot to tell you about the door change, security's been pretty tight lately; something about 'keeping out the riffraff'.
You pass by several menacing looking security cameras as you talk to Emmet, each of them with 'Sevastapool Electronics' logo stamped on the sides.
"Don't be scared though, this is nothing compared Octan's security back where I'm from" said Emmet, who seemed oddly comfortable with not having any privacy.
Along the way to the main poker room you pass by many smaller rooms, some of them with their doors cracked open enough for you to see through. In one you could make out a trio of rambunctious young wizards playing a Quidditch video game. In another, two Italian men, a woman, and a giant turtle stared each other down as they peered over their poker hands. In another, an engineer was working on the innards of a robot with blue hair and a leek in her hand.
"This is going to be so much fun!" Emmet says before opening the door that finally led to what you've been waiting all night for.
The Inventor main lounge more or less looked like a normal bar; fine wood furnishings, green barstools and chairs, an alcohol rack positively filled to the brink with bottles, and a small stage with a red curtain at the far end of the room. A chandelier in the shape of three wooden crates hung from the ceiling far overhead, and smooth jazz music could be heard emanating from a nearby jukebox.
"Ah, the player! So good to see you've finally arrived" said someone nearby.
The man speaking was none other than the current owner of The Inventory, Commodore Reginald Van Winslow (retired). His commodore title still showed through, as he was wearing a white captain's hat along with his red silk robe and blue tie. His skin was also darkly tanned, a telltale sign of his time spent in the Caribbean sun, and his Franz Joseph beard suggested that he was someone of high military class.
"I'm so glad to see that you've returned for another night of high stakes poker!" he said to you, smiling brightly. "I hope you do not mind waiting a few minutes; several of our guests are running late. But don't worry; once they're here, we shall embark on a gambling adventure unlike any you've seen before".
"Did someone say adventure?" said the voice of a little girl.
As if on cue, a little girl in a bright pink sweater and a green skirt swung into the room on a grappling hook and landed in one of the chairs at the main poker table.
"Mabel Pines, at your service" the twelve-year-old girl said as she twirled the grappling gun in her fingers like professional.
"Careful there kid; you'll shoot your eye out" said yet another voice.
This time it came from a man with a small brown moustache wearing a green army shirt, tan pants, an Atlanta Hawks baseball cap, an assault rifle strapped to his back, and three holstered pistols and a combat knife strapped to his legs.
The man walks up to you and shakes your hand. "'name's Burt Gummer, and I sure hope you're ready to lose, partner". He then took his seat at the poker table next to Emmet, leaving a space open between him and Mabel.
Suddenly, Reginald's cell phone started ringing, and he swiftly took it out from his robe and answered it.
"Yes…oh my, that sounds serious…yes, I understand, don't worry" he says into the phone. You are unable to hear whoever is on the other end.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news, player" he says, turning to you. "Leon Kennedy has come down with a bad case of the T-Virus, and won't be able join us for poker tonight. I guess we'll just have to make due with only four players…"
Reginald was interrupted by a loud bang coming from the sealing. That bang was followed by another, and another, until suddenly that section of the ceiling collapsed in on itself, falling onto a fortunately empty section of floor.
On top of that section of ceiling was a bed, which was under a naked man, who was under Panty Anarchy, clad in her trademark red dress, red high heels, gold hoop hearings, and long blonde hair. It was easy to tell from her moans and the look on her face that she was still coming down from her post-orgasmic high.
"Oh yeah, so good…" she said to herself, before looking over and noticing everyone else in the room. "Sweet, a poker game! Count me in!"
Panty stood up and took her seat next to Mabel, and the naked man she was with quietly slunk off to get dressed and leave.
"Sorry about roof, Reggie" Panty said as she adjusted her underwear back into place under her dress.
"Oh it's quite alright, I assure you" Reginald said back, though the sour tone his voice seemed to indicate otherwise. "That is what we have help for, after all. Claptrap!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming" said the little orange cuboid as he came out of the janitor's closet from behind the stage. "How long are you going to make me keep doing this?"
"Until you pay back that two hundred thousand dollar debt you owe us, of course" replied the former commodore.
"Hey, that wasn't my fault! How was I supposed to know she had that many explosives?" snapped Claptrap.
"Oh, don't sound so down; after all, you only have $187,432.32 left to work off" Reginald said with a wide grin on his face.
"Yeah, yeah" the robot said sarcastically before picking up the debris to dispose of it elsewhere.
"Splendid!" the stout man said, clapping his hands together. "Now that everyone's here, the game can finally begin! And with that, I leave you all in the very capable hands of GLaDOS".
