Beg for a loan from Theodore (Restores wealth, sets score to 0)

The office of the Down to Clown head clown assistant, Theodore, is the one place in the world you most wanted to avoid ever returning to here in the park. The guy's a prick! How can anybody work in a place like this without having any interest in the girls who work here? Even that aside, how could somebody have so little empathy for others who are just trying to score with those girls?! Doesn't the guy have a heart?

Well, today, you're really relying on him to grow one. Through your own carelessness, you've ended up so low on funds that you're no longer able to pay for the place you're supposed to sleep. That means no food, no rest, no nothing-- forget Wealth, you're about to lose Stamina, Guts, and Self-Restraint too if you don't get some money somewhere. The others told you there's one more option: take out a loan from the manager. The good news is that he rarely pressures people to pay it back. The bad news...

Your boss regards you coldly from behind his desk, where he sits with his hands steepled like an anime villain and his glasses reflecting the fluorescent lighting, hiding his eyes from view. Still, you can tell he's glaring right at you. You feel like you're about 5 cm tall, reduced to a worm. "Let's talk about how we got here, Bowie," he begins in a cool voice, then leans back in his chair and tilts his chin up. You can tell now that his eyes are meant to be pointing you somewhere. Three guesses where... That's right, the sign.

DON'T FUCK THE CLOWNS

"Down to Clown is practically a charity, young man. We don't ask for much: just your labor, and in return, we provide housing, food, and entertainment."

"And a 30% cut of my wages for housing," you think to yourself irritably.

As if sensing that, the man slaps his palms down on the desk and looms over you. "There are only two ways to run out of money in this place. The first is by slacking off and not doing your work. Are you that lazy, Bowie, that you can't even do your work?!"

You shake your head furiously in response, shrinking now to 3 cm.

"Then there's only one other way I can think of. The only other way a person is made penniless here... is indulging in the clowns. Is that what you've been doing?" he asks, standing to his full height so that his stern expression is framed on all sides by his giant signboard. "Have you been indulging in the clowns?"

Somehow, you feel like nodding your head here would be even worse. You decide to backtrack, telling him that you're a lazy slob who's been sleeping on the job and gambling his money away. You'd rather he think that than have him know you've been mismanaging your funds for the sake of courting clowns.

The man smirks, suddenly seeming as though he's in a good mood. His good mood sours yours even worse. He runs his hand through his blond hair, then gestures to you, one palm outward. "We'll forget about it this once. Don't worry. You're not the first we've had to set straight. I can give you a loan that should cover the expenses you need here. Don't worry about paying me back. Just promise me you'll work harder," he speaks softly, taking your hand and patting it gently.

It's giving you the creeps! Is this what this guy gets off on? Can't he just be excited by something normal like girls in rubber noses and wigs?!

You leave the office feeling your soul drained... but at least you have some spending money now. You make a mental note to try to avoid ever visiting this place again, for any reason!