This is too weird. I'm outta here.

The supervisor nods. "Very well then, sir. Thank you for volunteering. You may pick up your payment at the front desk. You'll find it's a bit more than a normal fee for non-contributing individuals. The Center would appreciate your discretion in this matter."

As you leave, you catch a glimpse of the supervisor hauling the blonde over by her hair and bending her over the desk, exposing that rounded, perfect ass. "As for you, Nurse Watkins--" the supervisor reaches into a drawer, then looks up, and her venomous gaze causes you to shut the door before you know what's happening. You hear it lock itself as it closes.

What a weird day! No one will ever believe this, you think, as you head back down the silent, empty street, away from the Daphne Center. You almost don't believe it yourself--but the bundle of bills in your pocket, along with the non-disclosure agreement you had to sign (odd that they should have one right on hand) to receive the payment confirms the reality of the experience. A large sum of money, and a bizarre story you can never tell anyone? There's much worse things to get out of an hour's work. All in all, a successful venture.