When Chris woke up, he realized he was stuck in a maze.

He was in a small chamber, with four exits, and in the dim light, he could see that corridors stretched off and made abrupt turns off into the distance.

He tried to remember how he had gotten here, but his hazy memory gave no answer. In fact, other than his name — Chris — he could remember little else. There were giant, gaping holes where his life should be. It was obvious that he had a past, that he was someone, but the specific details escaped him.

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Jeff was playing the most important game.

It was a game of chess, and the stakes were very high — the highest, in fact.

He was playing for his life.  His opponent:  none other than the Grim Reaper himself.

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Walter Wiggensbottom had a giant, shaggy, white beard.  He was extremely proud of it — “It’s taken me forty years to grow this thing!” he would tell his friends.  Walter also had a giant problem.  For the last five years, he had only been able to find work as Santa.  Walter hated playing Santa, but did it reluctantly in order to pay the bills until his retirement kicked in.  At 62 years old, he still had four more years until his social security kicked in, and Walter hadn’t been lucky.  He had worked for a small manufacturing company his entire working life but they had gone out of business six years ago and taken his pension with them.

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Jason the Physicist knew it was going to be an interesting evening when the alien walked into his bar.  Jason had dealt with his share of odd an interesting events (like the time he helped the folks at CERN save the world from a tiny black hole they’d accidentally created, or that wacky time-travel incident back in college), but he had never actually seen an extra-terrestrial.  The alien slapped a tentacle on the bar.

“Whiskey”, it said, sounding very much like Stephen Hawking.  Jason peered around for the source of the word, and finally settled on a small black box on the creature’s belt.  The box looked like it had been put together from parts obtained at Radio Shack.  In fact, upon closer examination, Jason saw the tellate cirle R logo in raised platic on the front of the box, next to a small speaker whose wires disappared into the innards of the box.

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