The Hall of Jimbos

The flash of reality re-assuming itself from the intense pleasure of the office orgy is simultaneously frustrating, expected and in a strange way welcome. A small part of you had wondered if you were to be completely subsumed into that other version of you, the bisexual overlord of Cash Inc.; a weird kind of super-hardcore *Being John Malkovich* fate.

You emerge into a scene that is somehow even stranger, as if such a thing were possible. In front of you runs a corridor along which lies a vast number of doors. What draws your confused and mildly horrified attention is that almost every last one features your name prominently displayed on the doorplate: most often prosaically in the form "Jimbo Doe" but a few have slightly stranger variations such as "Captain Doe" or even, in the distance, unrecognisable symbols.

Of course, behind you shimmers the weird glow of the High Energy Building and its strange basement circle, still making that strange sound.

This has gone from strange, through kinda hot, to downright weird. There are a vast number of options arrayed ahead of you.