As you pull up to the plastic surgeon's office building, you wonder to yourself if walk-ins will be very welcome. You never thought of that before, you were so excited to get here, you didn't slow down long enough to have it sink in that a man who makes thousands of dollars off of every client would probably not even have a waiting room, much less walk-ins to accomodate it. "Bah," you say outloud to yourself, "They'll see me, why wouldn't they with all the money they can make off me!"

As you go inside, you remember to put on your helmet. You go up four floors on an elevator with a family staring at you like you just escaped from a venusian penitentiary. They had pressed the fourth floor button first, which is where you happen to be going, but when you exited, they did not get off. Hmm. The secratary doesn't seem to notice, though, she never even looks up from her computer screen. Must be playing solitare. "Excuse me," you bellow, "Can I see the doctor about getting my whole body grafted?" Nothing. She still stares at the screen. "Because I can pay, you know," you continue, "I have $42,000 on me now..." Not even a flinch. You begin to wonder if she is even alive, so to get a better look, you take your facemask off.

"Oh my God!" She cries, "Put that back on before I call security!" Success. You put on your mask again just as the doctor comes out of the back, donning full surgical gear, complete with blood dripping from the gloves. "My God, what is that funky stench?" He shouts. "Doctor, I need my whole body grafted." You prompt. Quickly thinking of the profit, he says "Do you know how much that will cost?" "I have $40,000." You invite, "Do whatever you have to, but get me rid of this stench!" "Ha!" The doctor Ha!s, "A full body grafting would take several months and at least a hundred thousand dollars- Have you tried a bath?" You are instantly reduced to a quivering puddle of tapioca. "Yes," you whine, "of course I've bathed, I've even used bleach instead the water- another reason for me to get my skin replaced.... Please, isn't there anything you can do? Replace only the worst parts? Do the Chest up? Anything?" "Sorry son," he consoles, "If you are half as stinky as my patient in there under the gasmask smelled you to be, the only hope for you is to have it all done, not just a few parts."

In your truck again, sobbing against the steering wheel, you look at your options. You could go to that Psychic lady's shop that you heard advertised on the radio, and see what she has to say... Or you can find a way to come up with that money! How? $100,000 is a lot of Moulah... Maybe if you were really lucky you could go to Atlantic city & win it playing Craps. Or maybe you could steal it. Mug a few people... How hard would that be? With your natural talent of making people want to get away from you as quickly as possible, you wouldn't even need to buy a gun- just strip the suit in front of them in an alley, and only put it back on when they give you all their money.
-Easy as pie.

Do you want to go to the Psychic lady's shop?
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Or would you rather go to Atlantic City to gamble it all?