You help Clean Up...
You help Clean Up... |
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You scurry around trying to pick up all the papers from the clipboard you sent flying, all the time apologizing profusely for your carelessness. As you scoop up the papers, you can't help but notice that most of them are schedules of some kind, though you're really in too much of a hurry to see what for.
As you turn back around you realize that you made a wise choice--the guy you collided with is about 6' 3" and built like a sherman tank. He glowers at you, letting you do all the work yourself. At this point you aren't about to argue or ask any questions.
You clip the last of the papers on the clipboard, and hand it to him somewhat shakily. "Umm, Sorry about that... I'm sure they're not in the right order but..."
Before you can finish, he takes the clipboard from you and lets out a hearty laugh. "Heh, you don't look like you're from around here, Am I right? Of course I'm right; it's my job to know these things. Look, it ain't really wise to be wandering around here on your own. You're liable to get run over by a hummer... or worse--by a large, surly guy who's been having a bad day..."
You grin sheepishly, hoping to your favorite deity that his newfound good humor holds.
"Hey, M'name's Daniels," he continues in his rumbling voice as he extends a huge palm towards you. "I'm in charge of tours around here. But I bet it ain't this base you're interested in, is it?"
You reach and gladly take his hand, thinking that you'd much rather shake it than catch it upside your head as one of the largest fists you'd ever prefer not to see in your life. You shake your head to confirm his suspicions as you do so, yet somehow you think the gesture was rather unneccessary.
"Well, I tell ya what, stranger. There's a shuttle for the Main HQ leavin' in about 15 minutes on the tarmac. If we hurry, we can get ya on it. Whatcha think, pardner?"
What do you do? Do you: