While people loudly talking on the phone in public are certainly annoying, you consider this woman to be the safest choice. The only odd thing, you notice, is that the woman's cellphone appears to be broken. Both the casing for the battery and the battery itself are gone. Not one to make judgements about what people do with their ruined property, you promptly sit down next to the woman and do your best to ignore her.

"What's that!? I told you to get the BLUE roses Harvey, you know damn well yellow makes me eat my grandkids!" she screeches into the phone. While you muse if this could be the world's first schizophrenic using props, the woman becomes increasingly agitated. "I don't CARE if she's been kidnapped by space donkeys! I told her, it's MY way or the FREE way!!" she tells her phone, her eyes becoming bloodshot and a bit of spittle drooling down her chin. Suddenly, she seems to notice you. You curse your luck and do your best to handle this situation diplomatically.

"YOU!!" the old bat exclaims. "You tell this hunk of CRISP FRIED DUCK that I want my boombox on FRIDAY and not FISHING POLE, arriverderci?" She thrusts the phone into your hand, causing half of it to fall onto the floor and roll out of sight.

Now, you don't have a whole lot of experience in dealing with the mentally disturbed, but you're pretty sure that unless you find a way into this old woman's train of thought, you're about five seconds away from being torn apart in a lunatic frenzy. You take a deep breath, relax, put the phone to your ear and say:

"Key snippet, twelve sexy aloha? Strawberry fields forever. Swerve ahoy drama magnet and submarine ninja, Lynyrd Skynyrd! Pipe dream! And something gauzy."

You clench your teeth and close your eyes, certain that you just fucked up, certain that any minute now you'll feel yellowed, chewed old lady-claws slashing through your pink gut, waiting for the pain... it... doesn't... happen? You look the old lady in the eyes and are flabbergasted to see... love. For the first time in her detached life, she has met a kindred spirit, a man who understands her. You smile and prepare to stand up and sit down next to River Phoenix's corpse after all, when she suddenly clouts you on top of the head with a hammer.

...time passes...

You awake to find yourself naked on a heart-shaped bed, with only a towel covering up your genitalia. You feel drained, used, kind of... empty. Kind of dirty. You're in a motel room, and a single glance out the window tells you you're in Las Vegas. You hear a screechy voice singing in the shower. As the full horror of understanding begins to dawn on you, your eyes are drawn to the nightstand. A pink slip of paper congratulates one "old lady, crazy" with marrying her comatose boyfriend "Nigel" at the Drive-Thru Chapel of Fast Love. You want to scream, but screaming seems a fairly inadequate manner of dealing with this situation.

Just then, you hear the shower turning off and wet footsteps flip-flopping their way out of the bathroom. A race against the clock begins, and it's time to find out if you can locate that complementary motel handgun in the drawers and use it on yourself before you'll have to redefine your understanding of the word "horror".

START OVER, YOU SEXY SENIOR YOU!