Like every morning in recent memory, you're on your way back into your apartment building after taking your dog for a walk. It's sunny out, and he was frisky, so you took a little extra time to let him stretch his legs before you head out to work. As you wait for the elevator in the lobby of your high-rise, you stroll over to the mailboxes and open yours, #1201.

Inside, you find the usual mixed bag of bills, junk mail, and supermarket flyers. At first glance, you see nothing of interest. You idly ponder why as a child you used to get excited about mail, when now you feel dread as you open one bill after another. As you leaf through the junk mail, dumping each one unceremoniously into the recycling bin, the last item catches your eye. Unlike the rest, it's not bulk mail; it's addressed to you, and a large bejeweled crown shines at you from the front of the envelope. Curious, you decide not to toss it, and as you get into the elevator, you tear open the envelope with your apartment key, pulling out a single piece of paper from inside. It has the look of a coupon, but upon closer inspection, you notice something odd about it. First off, it's imprinted with your name — and photo. Strange. It's glossy, printed on expensive, heavy card stock, and in big bold letters proclaims you KING FOR A DAY if you deliver it to the address listed below.

That's a new one, you think to yourself. I didn't even realize we had a monarchy here.

You walk into your apartment and unleash your dog, who in turn lets loose a bark as he picks up a squeaky toy and runs wildly across the living room. You notice the light on your answering machine is blinking.

RATE THIS BRANCH!

Author guidance for This story

You know all that irritating bulk mail you have to dig through to reach your bills and court summons every day? I was picking up my mail one morning and thought about what would happen if I actually followed the directions inside of one of those blasted things.

As an aside, let's try and keep at least one "avoidance" thread going as long as possible, even if it forks this way and that. I'd love to see how many different ways our protagonist can avoid following the suggestion of the award notice. It's good for comic relief. :)

updated Jan 22 '11 by nickb