Head back to the store.

Stomach full of some nice rice for a quick sugar kick, lamb for protine staying power, and butter for fats to power brain function your mood is much improved. You think about this offer you received in the mail and decide you have to go back to that store. If it's some kind of scam you need to know what it is, curiosity won't let you not check this out, and if it's not you'd never forgive yourself for passing this up.

However, you're not going to be stupid.

You call up two of your aquaintances from highschool that stayed relatively local and tell them what's going on, in case: Brenda McAlister, a local reporter for the associated press, and George Landy, a patroll officer with the police department. They both agree to follow up on this if they don't hear back from you by eight tomorrow night, and secure in the knowledge that if this is the cover for a **** ring they've fucked with the wrong guy you head back over to the storefront...

Once again though, you freeze on the other side of the street, you sense going inside means a meeting with destiny: you just can't tell WHAT destiny...