Despite the advent of superior technology, it would appear that the arrival of a simple letter, albeit a letter that doesn't bear the words 'bill' or 'final notice', can still be a cause of celebration in the lives of anyone younger than fifty. In fact, the jubilant emotion and celebration was by Graham, a twenty-five-year-old bloke from Yorkshire.
'Congratulations on your successful application to the world's greatest experiment...' the wonderful letter read, 'You have been one of only ten men selected for a study assessing the benefits and negatives of how choice and the lack of affects humanity. We wish to discover the actions, reactions and further consequences of how 'free will' affects a wide range of humanity.'
Graham read further, as it delved further into details of compensation (a lot), accommodation (free and all-inclusive), and when the experiment would take place (very soon). In fact, Graham was concerned that the date was only a couple of days away and that there was no address of where he was going to be heading, merely a number for him to contact to arrange transport and ask any questions, which, with trepidation, he did.
"This is Roxanne," an unexpectedly alluring voice answered, the accent Irish but the voice low and enticing, "how can I take your call?"
"Um, Hi," Graham spoke nervously, "I was calling about my acceptance into the free will study..."
"Oh, you are a lucky one," Roxanne giggled, an action that caused flutters within Graham's cock, "I look forward to seeing you there Graham."
"That sounds great," Graham declared a bit too loudly, eliciting another giggle, "but I don't know where there actually is."
"Don't worry about that," Roxanne purred, "we'll arrange all transport and accommodation, I just need to confirm you have your passport."
"Passport?" He exclaimed. "I mean, yes, but am I going out of the country? I just assumed we needed it for identification purposes."
Hearing a faint, rhythmic clicking on Roxanne's end, Graham waited for a reply.
"Well, seeing as you live in England, Graham, I can assure you that you absolutely will be flying off elsewhere. If I were you, I would pack for a fairly long flight."
"Oh my," he gasped, blindsided by this, "I wasn't expecting anything like that."
"Don't you worry Graham," Roxanne assured him, her voice sending shivers down his soul, "I think you'll have a wonderful time when you get here, so don't worry about anything now." A few more clicks on what he assumed to be a keyboard or mouse. "Now, I believe the time is eleven in the morning, the second of November in Yorkshire?"
"Yes," Graham agreed rapidly, although he'd probably have agreed to anything for this voice.
"If I was you Graham, I'd start packing a bag. Your car will be with you just before one pm."
"What?" He exclaimed, "I've got two hours to get ready?"
"Slightly less," Roxanne corrected him, "your flight from Manchester leaves at five, so there's no room for delay. Now, your driver will take you straight to the airport, where someone will meet you. I look forward to seeing you very soon Graham." With that, the phone clicked, leaving only silence in Graham's ear.
Still in a daze, Graham looked uncertainly around the small room he called home, part of a flat share with two other people he barely knew, and one other person he barely knew but was a complete bellend. What was he supposed to do, tell them he was going to be gone for over a week for some shifty experiment he'd read about on the web, and they were flying him out of the country? They'd tell him he was an idiot, falling for an obvious scam.
So that's why Graham, his bags all packed for a variety of different climates, told his friends he was going on an unexpected business trip with work. In the same way he didn't know much about their lives, they knew just as much about his, so accepted it without question, not wondering why a small family business would send the most junior employee alone on a business trip. However, when a Bentley pulled up outside and a chauffeur, hat included, stepped out and opened the door for Graham, insisting that he would place his luggage in the boot and that he made the most of the refreshments available from the fridge, they did look on with envy.
After a few questions to the driver were met with flat, empty responses, Graham focused upon the fridge, taking a coke, but tempted by the wide variet of beers and RTD's available. It was as he closed the fridge he noticed the screens in the back of the seats, fully loaded with a variety of films, shows and, best of all, a full on N64 emulator.
Having reached 'Bunker II' on Goldeneye, Graham was surprised as the cars' movement stopped suddenly, shortly followed by his door being opened, revealing the airport terminal.
"Your destination sir," the chauffeur spoke incredibly politely, "I hope you've enjoyed your ride, and I look forward to picking you up on the way back sir."
"Thank you," Graham mumbled, aware he'd mostly ignored the man the entire journey.
"Oh, and sir," the Chauffeur continued, handing his suitcase over to him, "if you leave Natalya in the cell until you've cleared the level, she's less likely to die." With that, he closed the boot, stepped back into the car, and drove off, Graham gawking after him. He'd been stuck on that level for ten minutes, of course you left Natalya in the cell! Bloody idiot.
Cursing his stupidity, Graham continued that run by walking into a young lady in a suit who, if he hadn't grabbed her waist, would have immediately been bowled over.