FIRST TRIAL

[keyofimagination]

[As the living guests finish investigations, they will hear a small click from the library. The door in the back of the room is now open, and true to The Narrator’s words, it leads to the boiler room and in the back there’s an elevator, already open for the guests. However this elevator doesn’t look anything like a normal elevator.

The elevator doesn’t start until everyone is seated and buckled in, and when it does, instead is starts moving backwards for a few moments before going up. As it moves, your host’s calm voice is heard inside the elevator.]

Friday the 13th. It’s often considered the most unlucky day of the year, and for young Vanellope von Schweetz, she has encounter the greatest misfortune of all. Young Vanellope, who at the end of the day just wanted someone who loved her, instead found herself with nothing but pure hatred. And now Vanellope will have a new game to call home, a game only referred to as… The Twilight Zone.

[As he finishes, the elevator halts with an ominous creak. There is a long stretch of silence before The Narrator speaks again.]

You are about to discover what lies beyond the fifth dimension. Beyond the deepest, darkest corner of the imagination… in the Tower of Terror.

[And then, suddenly, the elevator drops. Hard. None of the guests will have a clear enough mind as they are suddenly being plunged to the ground to notice this, but somehow, the elevator is moving faster than gravity would normally work. But just before they would reach the ground, the elevator suddenly moves back upwards, and then drops again.

This repeats for what seems for an eternity, until the elevator quickly climbs to the very top and stops suddenly. There is a cheerful ding and the elevator doors finally open.

The doors open up to a 30’s-style night club. It’s impossibly clean for a hotel that’s been out of commission for decades, as, unlike the rest of the hotel, it was never closed. There is a grouping of 12 tables sitting in front of a stage, with a placecard, notepad and pen sitting on each one. Boarding the walls there are also 24 pictures, each one representing a guest. While everyone else’s picture is in full color, Vanellope’s is in grayscale.

Light music fills the room, and will continue to play for the rest of your time here.On the stage, The Narrator is already here, straddling one of the chairs and smoking a cigarette.]

Welcome to the Tip Top Club. I hope your trip here was uneventful.

[Judging by his knowing smile, he seems to know exactly that something went down in the elevator.

Each of you has assigned seating arrangements, though you are free to move about the club as you please. You will find that there are several amenities here, however, your main goal here will be solving the mystery that had been put forward.

Feel free to discuss this amongst yourselves, and once you feel you have an idea of who committed the crime, write their name down in your notepad. Majority rules, and participation in this activity is mandatory.

There will be no set time limit for this trial. I trust that you have found enough evidence to properly figure out who the culprit is.

[But on the bright side of all of this, there’s an open bar for those who already want to forget today.]

Comments

[pavlovsdad]

I have everything I could possibly desire already. Besides, the fact remains your only proof is circumstantial at best.

[sentree]

Want more? What about how you've been insisting this whole time we choose someone, just anyone, without even knowing what that'll get us? How about your insistence on accusing everyone else. Especially the kids, who, might I add-

[ Oh! She realizes something! ]

You know what we didn't touch on? Her neck. You're an adult, probably strong enough to strangle a child. We don't have a lot of people here with hands that big- or hands to begin with! [ Donald, anyone? ] Who looked at that? Tadashi, Reyna?

[grimgrinningghosts]

[Tadashi and Reyna, it should be noted that the mark on her neck wasn't from a pair of hands. It was a smooth band around her neck, like it came from fabric.]

[tadaishi]

Hold on. It wasn't strangle marks. At least not from someone's bare hands.

[sentree]

Oh? [ Well, here's some news! ] What was it, then?

[greatwidesomewhere]

I wonder...his cravat?

[Tie. She means his tie.]

[sentree]

...What's a cravat?

[greatwidesomewhere]

It—goes around his neck. His is thinner than the ones I'm used to...

[sentree]

His...tie? Did he- I've met pretty horrible monsters in my time, this guy's taking the cake!

[greatwidesomewhere]

[Tie seems like a simplistic word for it, but sure.]

He's proved himself to be rather awful so far.

[hallotween]

... I didn't even know you could kill someone like a rich jerk, but I guess you can.

[fairlypushy]

He wouldn't let someone common touch him, why would he bother to do the opposite when a tie works just as well?

[The bottles are rattling again, but nothing shatters this time.]

[pavlovsdad]

You people all seem to want this both ways, you know that?

[fairlypushy]

Oh, of course it wouldn't be your tie. It was probably - you took it from the coat room, didn't you?

[pavlovsdad]

Ergh. And touch that filth? Definitely not. I change my mind, in this theory I used my own tie.

[greatwidesomewhere]

...So you admit, you did use your tie.

[pavlovsdad]

If I were to go along with your flawed theory, which I don't.

[pavlovsdad]

My tie is made from a now extinct goat from Tibet, now China. I would never let it touch anyone, much less a grimy little nuisance.