”I’ll think of something and see if it comes true.“

”Okay, try it.“  I thought of the having a nice cool soda in my hand. Nothing happened.

”It looks like it doesn’t work!“  I exclaimed.

”Let me try.“  She said. ”If I’m right, there’s something waiting for us in the kitchen.“  Sure enough, when we entered there was a pile of money five feet high. ”That’s about how I imagined it. What does this mean?“

”Perhaps, the game only brings forth ideas that occur in different settings than the one you’re in. Let me try. Stay here, I’ll go into the other room.“  I left the room, thought of Tricia in her volleyball uniform, and reentered.

”How did this get on me?“  She inquired.

”That’s what I thought about!“

”My turn.“  She said, leaving the room. Instantaneously I was changed into wearing only a towel around my waist. She returned, laughing.

”Hey that’s not fair!  I was nice!“  I said, leaving the room.

”Oh no you don’t.“  She said, as she followed me. ”You’re not going to do that to me.“

”Do what?  I was just going to give you the same medicine.“

”I know.“

”Hey, I have an idea.“

”What’s that.“

”Let’s have all the people outside dressed in towels!“  We thought about it, then looked outside. Nothing happened.

”Hey, why didn’t their clothes change?“

”I don’t know. Maybe Matt and Noelle are overruling our thoughts.“  Just then, the phone rang. I picked it up. ”Hello?“

”Hello. Well, I see you’ve figured out our little scheme. I bet you’re wondering what the goal for this level is!  It’s quite simple, remember who you are!“

”Who I am, but that’s easy, my name is . . . is. . . What is my name?“

”Not so easy, is it. Neither will you know who your friends are, what your occupation is, even if you’re married. For that matter, you don’t even know where you are!“  I looked around the room, not recognizing anything in it, not even Tricia. ”Nor will that other person know her identity. Well, you wanted to know your goal, now you do. I will give you one hint, though. One of you is named Adam C. Schofield, the other Tricia. Have fun trying to solve this little puzzle!“  I hung up.

”Am I Tricia, or are you.“  I asked the person that was in the room with me.

”I think I’m Tricia.“

”Then I must be Adam.“

”I wonder if we are married.“

”I don’t know, but I’m dressed in a towel, and we are both in the same apartment!“

”True, that is odd,“ she said, looking at her hands, ”But I have no wedding ring on either of my hands.“

”Me either.“

”So either we took them off, or we are not married.“

”Well let’s assume that we are not married. How are we related then?“