LogFAQs > #930408941

"Well, of course, who could- wait did you say Cordova Mall?" the wardrobe manager asks, taking his hands off your knees.
"Yeah..." you shift uncomfortably in the stool.
"In Pensacola, Florida?"
"Yeah."
The wardrobe manager throws his hands in the air. "Jesus fucking Christ. Just say 'Florida' when you walk in next time, Sam."
"I'm... I'm Jacob Holloway," you correct him, believing this to be a test.
"You don't need a complex backstory to go to Florida, Sam," he informs you. "I'm going to give you dark jeans, a white tank top, a red bandanna, and gas station sunglasses."
"My... my family was gunned down by 1990's pop star Fiona Apple," you commit.
"Well, okay. I'm glad we didn't get that far in the backstory because I'm starting to see some holes now."
"I saw holes in my family's corpses," you shudder.
The wardrobe manager snaps in front of your eyes. "Sam! I don't say this often in my line of work, but you're overthinking this. Just go... be in Florida. Nobody in Florida cares about how anyone else ended up there."
"Can... can I be 6'4?" you stutter.
"I don't give a fuck," he replies as he throws your Florida clothes at you. "Now put these on and pick a spot where you want to drop down."

Where in Pensacola do you beam to?

A) The shingles treatment and freshwater bait center.
B) The sex swing and used tire emporium.
C) The tuba repair and gynecology outlet.
D) The exotic pet and muffler discount center.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.