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Welcome to the first scenario in The Simulator event entitled 'Grant's Rampage'.

This product is brought to you by NexSoft, a branch of the Nexus Conglomerate.

The votes have been tallied.

16 votes have been cast towards Grant heading straight home.

24 votes have been cast towards Grant going to Eatery Alley.

Thank you for your votes.

Enjoy the program.

NexSoft, our Programs, your Will.

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Hunger eventually got the better of Grant and he couldn't be bothered heading home, cooking for himself or getting something delivered. After the reaming he got from George, he felt the need to some instant gratification. If that meant stuffing himself with something greasy and fattening, he didn't mind.

Wandering down what is commonly known as Eatery Alley, he is almost instantly assaulted by the sights, sounds and smells of dozens upon dozens of different flavours of food from Asian, Mexican, America and all sorts of fusion foods.

There are a variety of restaurants of all shapes and colours down a single street, all their colours and lights flashing before him attempting to draw you in into their folds. Being spoiled for choice is something common at Eatery Alley and it is somewhat difficult to choose what type of cuisine he would like.

He briefly considered going into one of the American-themed restaurants that would be perfect to sate the gnawing hunger in him. Quick food, greasy chips and hearty meals. It was tempting but he decided to try and browse first before he committed.

The decision, however, seemed to be made for him when his eyes settle on a find a familiar figure sitting inside a Chinese-French Fusion restraint called 'Way Big'. He's sitting alone near the window eating what looking like a deconstructed noodle soup with croutons. The tall, muscular figure of Corporal David Brinks takes Grant's breath away, heart pumping hard in his chest.

Brinks is a tall 6'9'', imposing figure. One would think from his intimidating physique that he would be a bully and someone who liked to throw his weight and good looks around. However, he has a gentle soul and his square jaw is always decorated by a brilliant, sunshine smile that is more than capable of washing away any clouds and worries of the day. Like most military men, his blonde hair is cut short in a crew cut. It's a bit of a pity as Grant was always of the opinion that having more of that blonde hair frame Brinks' chiselled features would highlight his baby blue eyes more.

For a moment, Grant flashed back to that day when he got his couch. Because of George forcing him to work through lunch, he didn't get to make the walk back to his apartment to pick up the couch and greet the movers there. He got a call saying that his couch was back at the depot and that he would have to pick it up himself. Living in the city meant that getting a car was a colossal waste of money especially since he didn't have a parking space. With depression setting in, Grant slumped in front of his door wondering what to do.

Then David came in, fresh off his most recent tour. He asked what was wrong and when Grant explained, David went to the effort of calling his buddies and bringing a truck over. With Grant in tow, he drove back to the depot, signed off on the couch and brought it back to the apartment. David helped Grant carry it up the three flights of stairs to his apartment. All this within an hour. George still yelled at Grant for no reason but that little storm cloud was nothing compared to the dazzling day that David had heralded.

That was the first time they had met.

Ever since that day, Grant had made an effort to get up at 5:00 AM every day and head to work early just to catch David at exactly 5:15 AM for his daily run around the block. He was only off duty for three months and two of those three have already passed but just hearing his bright, cheerful voice encouraging Grant, urging him to get out of his shell gave him the energy to go to work early. The hope that he might bump into the handsome, kind Corporal on his way up to the apartment is what after a hard day's work is what keeps him chugging through George's verbal abuse.

David was mesmerised by his meal, however and hadn't looked up yet. It was funny that there was just a single plane of glass separating him and Grant, a near-invisible wall.

Grant briefly wondered if he should try and get a bite to eat at this restaurant or just keep walking home.

Deciding that he needed a little bit of sunshine in this dreary night, Grant took a deep breath and entered the restaurant. He tried to act nonchalant as he strode up to the 'Please wait to be seated' sign. A waiter was with him a moment later and he asked for a 'Table for one' quite loudly, hoping David would notice.

Whether he had said it loudly enough or David just had excellent hearing, the Corporal looked up and his bring grin just lit up the room. He had a mouthful of noodles but that didn't keep from standing up and waving Grant over. It was adorable how he tried to shout Grant's name but it just came out a muffled mess between loud slurps.

"I'm with him," Grant told the waiter and wandered over to David's table.

Grant stood next to the table but David still has his mouth full of noodles. The young corporal still slurping up the ridiculously long noodles gestured for Grant to have a seat. That small gesture already pushes the evening with George away and Grant eagerly sat down opposite to his neighbour.

After David swallowed his mouthful, he said, "Hey man! I didn't know you like this place!"

"First time here," Grant admitted

"I love it here! Better than that stuff that they feed us out on the field. Hey, you gotta try their noodles. It's awesome!"

"Well I -"

Grant never get to say anything more as David twirled some noodles around his fork and lifted it towards him. A blush touches his cheeks as he shook his head and kept his mouth tightly shut. It was no use, however, because David shoved the noodles between Grant's lips, forcing the accountant to chew on them or risk choking. It was good, just like he said.

"See? Awesome, right?" David said.

"Yeah," he chuckle softly. "It is."

Idle conversation followed and as Grant ordered exactly what David had, the both get to know each other a little more. It was the first real conversation they had apart from the brief meetings outside of the apartment and that one time David helped Grant with his couch. David dropped out of high school when he was eighteen, just about to graduate and been with the military for the past five years. That made him twenty-three years of age. When asked if he had anyone special he mentioned that he did, once, but when he dropped out and joined the military the relationship died out due to distance and work. Plus apparently that person ended up dating the high school quarterback. Grant expressed his surprise that David wasn't the quarterback and the young corporal laughed saying that he was never as big back then as he was now.

"It's five years of military training, man. Makes you big and strong!"

Grant shared a laugh with him, one of the many that they have during the night. Only when the last of the other customers leave did either of them realise it is almost midnight. Grant still had work in the morning and that meant that he would have to drag his ass out of bed after five or fewer hours of sleep.

"I've got to go," he said, standing up and reaching into his wallet. "Thanks for the evening. I really needed it."

David lifted a big hand and shakes it. "Nah, man. This one is on me. Sounds like you needed it after the day you had. One day, George is gonna get fucked." He grins broadly and pushes Grant's wallet away. "And it was my pleasure. I really enjoyed myself. See you around, okay?" He winked in what Grant decided to interpret as a seductive way, causing the timid accountant's heart to flutter.

Just before he left, the waiter came back over and dropped two fortune cookies, one for each of them. Shrugging, Grant picked up one and cracked it open.

"Huh."

"What's yours say?" David asked.

"'You will trample on those who stepped on you in the past'," he read. "Weird. Yours?"

"'Your backdoor is open'," David laughed. "Right. My apartment doesn't have a backdoor." He absently dropped the piece of paper on his finished dish. "Anyway, thanks for keeping me company, Grant. I loved it."

With a big smile, Grant returned the compliment.

He left the waiter a big tip before heading on home to his apartment. Even though it was well into the evening, he really felt like it was warm, summer's day and could've skipped all the way home if he wasn't so darn tired.

It only takes thirty minutes to get back to the apartment and Grant is extra cautious not to wake anyone as the front door always slammed shut loudly. He couldn't help but think 'Home Sweet Home' as he headed up the steps to the third floor. A wince escaped him as every wooden floorboard creaked beneath his feet. A part of the banister actually cracks and crumbles slightly beneath the lightest touch of his fingers as he heads up. The place really was falling apart.

Upon opening the door, he is met by the same one bedroom apartment that he had called his home for ten years after he had moved away from his father's farm. It's small, cosy and rather... minimalist. At most, the only piece of furniture he had was his couch. Not even a bookshelf, TV or much else. A little sad considering he had been an accountant and living in this place for ten years. He kept promising himself he'd move somewhere else but with George and assholes like George constantly beating him down, the energy to move was always squashed out of him.

With a sigh, he stepped into the house and shut the door. After locking it securely, he moved towards his kitchen counter to set down his bag. However, he froze when he spied a little, brown package the size of his hand sitting on the counter. He didn't recall receiving any mail the previous day or having the package there when he left for work. He was also pretty sure that he had locked the door and no one else had the keys except for his landlord but he wasn't allowed into the apartment without facing legal ramifications.

Grant's heart began pumping hard in his chest. He feared that since the package was the size of a hand that there would be a dismembered hand inside. With shaking fingers, he reached over and slowly began to unwrap the package. As he did so, he heard a faint rattling inside so it definitely wasn't a hand.

Unless it was the skeletal remains of a hand.

He almost stopped opening it.

The contents of the package, however, was a surprise.

It was a single, simple pill... and a note.

All the note said was:

'This is for you, Grant, for all those times you've been stepped on. It's time for you to do the trampling.'

It was signed 'The Director'.

Grant shook his head in confusion and regarded the pill again.

"What the...?" he wondered.

What should Grant do?

1) Take the pill?

2) Go to bed. It's been a long day.