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A night at 'The 711 Club,' an advergame


I awake with a pounding headache. Where am I? I stumble toward the nearest doorway -- into a nightclub. The bartender greets me. "Welcome to the 7-1-1 Club," he says. "I don't think I've seen you here before -- your first time in Rio?" Rio? How the eff did I end up in Rio?

I think I see a familiar face in the crowd. I approach, blurting out a convoluted question about the nearest airport (get me outta here!) and concern for my heart condition. "You flatter me, but I don't think we've met," says the man introducing himself as Charles. Hmmm, I don't know a Charles ...

Suddenly, a burst of fire sets forth inside me. "LET'S DANCE!" I yell. Staggering out onto the dance floor, I am a man possessed. My feet are arrow keys, the beat falling blocks. I can do this!

"I know I've just met you, but I feel as though we've been dancing for all of eternity," Charles gushes. Eternity? Wait a minute, am I in ... "LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" I cry. Then everything goes black.

I awake to the piercing bleep-bleep-bleep of my alarm clock. It was all a dream. It's 7:11 and there's a hot, steaming Brazilian on my bedside table. Just what I need: a cup of coffee.

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