In spite of its smaller selection of books and magazine, the main station WH Smith scores higher than its High Street equivalent in that it hasn’t been attacked by an implausible ginormous robot. Having said that, its unfamilar layout sends you around in circles, until a jack-in-the-box of a bubbly shop assistant leaps out at you.
”Hi there! I’m Sharon!” she squeaks. “Can I help you with anything?”
Bae recovers herself from the surprise attack before you. “Fax ribbon? Do you sell it?”
”Xerox?” asks Sharon.
”IBM,” you assert, surprised at your increasing knowledge of fax machine accessories.
Sharon spins like a gyroscope scenting its pray, which is unusual behaviour for a gyroscope even on a day like this. “Here you go, luvvie! £4.99. Would you like me to wrap it?”
Do you take it from her hand and say, “I just need to pick up a couple of other things. Thanks, Sharon.”? (goto 50)
Do you reach for your wallet to extract your last fiver? (goto 34)
Or do you wait to see what Bae does? (goto 54)