The escape room looked like an office. Two cubicles were complete with computers, file cabinets, and rolling chairs. On the wall was a framed Human Resources poster about how to prevent sexual harassment. There was a photocopier and a laser printer, and beside the laser printer was a treasure chest.

"Cool," I said, "a treasure chest."

Pushing to the front, I approached the chest and opened the gilded wooden box. Inside the chest was a note. "This is a Mimic. Were this a dungeon, you would have just been eaten."

"Awe shit," I said, showing the others my note. "I've just been eaten."

A hidden speaker turned on, and Earl spoke, "in a real dungeon, you have to be suspicious of everything. Monsters can hide in the weirdest places. It should have been obvious that a treasure chest was out of place in an office setting, so the chest should have been cautiously approached. Keep going, though. Making mistakes is an important part of learning."

"Keep in mind that this room is nothing like what an escape room would be like. Our top free labor lackeys — I mean our generous graduate students — have specially designed it to acquire skills rather than be wholesome family fun."

Over the next hour, we stepped on pressure plates that launched Nerf booby traps. We unscrewed light switches to find secret compartments. A net fell on Neil for no apparent reason. A light bulb exploded as we tried to unscrew it, dousing the entire group with confetti.

A couple of times, my skill [Basic Trap Sense] lit up some traps. Not wanting to reveal I had more skills than just the epic ability to [Summon Everything Bagels], I only pointed out about a quarter of the pressure plates, leavers, and trip wires I detected.

The skill [Basic Trap Sense] was amazeballs. If I stopped what I was doing and concentrated, one trap, usually the most obvious, would become outlined in blue. Only I could see the outline. And the skill missed as many traps as it found. Since it only worked on one trap at a time, there were times when I would be standing in front of a mechanism that the skill still needed to detect. At the same time, another pit, leaver, or pressure plate far away from me was being highlighted.

At one point, Amanda pressed something, and slowly, the room began to fill with steam. "That's poison gas, folks; find the switch to turn it off in the next five minutes, or else you are all dead," Earl gleefully announced over the hidden speaker.

"Fuckity, fuck." I yelled.

"We need to figure out what happened," Neil said.

"I think it was me. I moved this pencil holder, and I heard a click." Amanda said.

"Move it back. Move it back." I yelled.

"Stop yelling, Randy," Neil yelled.

"Stop yelling, Neil," Amanda yelled.

"Ay caramba, stop it the yelling," Maria yelled.

"I'm not yelling. You all are." I yelled back, then realizing something, I said, "Oops, sorry. I am yelling. Got a bit caught up in the moment there."

“Hay algo out of lugar, Amanda?” Maria said.

"What?" I said.

"I don't know. I'm looking right now." Amanda said.

"You are supposed to speak Turkish, not Spanish," I complained. "Why am I the only one who doesn't have a clue what Maria is saying."

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"Shut up, Randy," Neil said, frantically shuffling stuff around the desk.

The mist was getting thicker, though it mostly clung to the floor. Dry ice special effects, not steam, I decided. Amanda and Neil were over by the desk looking at things trying to determine what was out of place.

"Oh, for fuck sake, the mouse isn't on the mouse pad. Try that." I said because both the mouse and the mouse-pad were glowing blue.

Neil looked at me, then shrugged. Putting the mouse onto the mouse pad, there was an audible click. The carbon dioxide vapor slowly faded away. Within minutes the air was airy once again.

It didn't take long to open the door after that. Maria found a series of numbers in a file folder. In a folder marked "Bunker" on a page labeled "Escape hatch," the following numbers were written 4, 8, 15, 16, 23, and 42. Turning on the computer resulted in "Make your own kind of music" by Mama Cass Elliot being played over the loudspeakers. At the same time, the computer waited for the sequence of digits to be entered. The door to leave the room opened when the final number was entered.

"Good work, everyone," said Earl, "check your stats. See if you gained your skills." Which I did. My [Learn: Observe] was at 5, [Learn: Find Secret] at 6, and [Learn: Intermediate Trap Sense] was now at 3.

My group and I sat in the waiting room shooting the shit while the other group finished their escape room. Eventually, Earl let them out. "Better luck on the next one. Even though you didn't make it out, you should check your stats anyhow."

Earl quickly cleaned and reset everything that was out of place, and we swapped rooms. My group was even faster in our second room. That room was laid out like a University classroom. And once we got out, we chilled for a bit waiting for the other group, who failed that room too.

The second group came out, and Charlie, the dood with the [fireball] spell, yelled at everyone. "I can't believe they teamed me up with such a lame group. You are all morons. Can't you do anything right?" He yelled and stomped off, leaving the building.

I looked quizzically at Maggie, the business lady, and she shrugged, "guy had major issues. Gave no help whatsoever. He thought he knew everything. Tried to boss everyone around. We would have kicked him off the team if we weren't locked in a room together."

Earl cleared his throat, "Okie-dokie, folks, we are about done for the day. Tomorrow we will meet up at the second location on your handout. Wear something you don't mind getting dirty; you lot will be crawling around in the mud and bushes."

I turned to look at Maria, who coughed, "lo siento," she said and gestured to her walker.

"We can make accommodations," said Earl. Then he smiled and said, "See you all tomorrow."

For a minute or two, I thought about going to Fritz'. It was difficult to resist the siren song of the Brewsky. I longed to throw myself upon beer's hoppsy shores. In the end, though, the temptation to take apart the first few rooms of my dungeon was overwhelming.

Don we now our adventuring apparel, fa la la la fuck you rar rar rar rar. Or whatever. I entered my dungeon.

Killing the three goblins in the first room was trivial. One of these days, I had plans to capture one of the little shits and force-feed it bagels until it burst to see if I got an achievement. But not today. Today I killed the little green fucks quickly, then started to tear apart the room. I unscrewed the light switch covers, removed the bulbs, and tore the bed open. I even pried up the floorboards. And there was a tiny box in a little secret compartment that could be opened by putting pressure on the part of the floor.

"Score, motherfuckers."

Inside the box were three pieces of silver dungeon currency and a skill [Crystal].

I couldn't identify the [Crystal] because I had no [Identify] spell.

"Fuck." This must be the reason why there were so many crystals for sale. You find one, and [boom]; you don't know what it does. So tempting. So elusive. I stuffed it in my inventory so it wouldn't degrade. It could be helpful, total crapola, or I could sell it. [Basic: Identify Skill Crystal] and [Basic: Identify Spell Crystal] cost 93 experience each. I'd need to start saving.

Then a thought occurred to me. I opened up my [Status] went into the auction, listed [Unknown Crystal] for a starting auction with a reserve of 50 experience, and set the timer for the auction for one week. I could get some free XPS. Who knew why someone would want to buy unidentified loot was beyond me.

I did not find anything in the next few rooms, and like always, I stopped after I killed the slime at the bottom of the stairs. The whole run, all the carnage, netted me 15 xps, which at this point was sweet fuck all, but I wouldn't turn up my nose, either.

I left the dungeon, sat around waiting for it to reset, and then returned to it. The hidden compartment was there, and inside was a shiny button and a lollipop. It wasn't even a magic lollipop. Well, I guess it could have been — I didn't have [Identify] yet. But the lollipop didn't do anything to me when I ate it, so fuck.

Four more times, and four more useless finds. The dungeon was mocking me. The 46 more experience points weren't a kick in the teeth. I banked them since I was saving for the basic [Identify] spells.