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From an undisclosed location, this Sunday.

- Prisoner one-three-seven-five-two-eight-zero! Personal evaluation! Right NOW!

"That's mine!" Celldoor opens, four officers appear. "Go!" I follow two, another pair of them is behind me. We walk through corridors, door after door, around us unknown faces in the dark cells appear and disappear as well. After several time, the five of us arrive at a tiny, dark room in the basement of the building. A chair and a table, nothing special. "Take a seat, please." I do it, few moments later I am handcuffed to the chair, and the four of them leave. "Well, alone, again!"

From the darkness a skinny female enters into the scene.

- Welcome Prisoner 1375280. My name is Lana, the Chief Training Officer of the company, and from this moment your goddess-in-this-hell ... khm supervisor, wanted to say. The subject of evaluation is your future: stay here in our wonderful utopia, or leave it forever for the disappointment of your reality. Through the process any of your words is unnecessary, just sit and relax.

"Well, relaxing is so easy, while I am handcuffed to a chair."

- So let's see your data. I😨 1375280. Alias: vasmegye. Beginning of imprisonment: 2009.03.22. Four years, eleven months. Reason: runaway from reality. How ordinary, all of dreamy nerds ends here.

"Thank you, I got here my own reality show."

- Next in line of importance is military and financial data. - She sees my face. - You aren't familiar to me, and yeah, the data gives me right, your strength is so awful. - Then she slaps me.

"Ouch. That hurts."

- Financial data: zero spent dollars. Oh, that's disgusting, you didn't pay anything to the boss. - Followed by a kick in the teeth, then after few similar minutes I found myself on the ground. And almost beaten to death.

- But impressive, how could you bastard survive this hell of hell without bribing that old perv. Medal and deco collection: typical like another sons of bitches in this camp. A lot of them, and the worthless ones.

One spit of my blood lands on the floor.

- Citizenship history: Hungary, Slovakia, Switzerland, Hungary, Switzerland, South Africa, Hungary, Switzerland. Sounds like a true mercenary. You followed some of fake (maker) warlords, right?

That daughter of bitch has the right at this moment.

- And they are gone, and you are alone. Pathetic. - One more kick to the stomach.

- After the embarassing military and financial reports you must have some non-typical personal missions. Here they are. Oh, how calculable. First: live at least 15 days in every single country. Result: Failed. Hah, you are the biggest failure in the history of the company. After the men who lost BHs in the last second.

"Well, that damn Danes ceased to exist that time."

- Mission two: stay in every single region at least one day. Result: Achieved. Congratulations. You think, you have earned some respect. Forget it, you are as worthless as before, that's why we release you no... - She suddenly laughs.

"Why?"

- Wait. You stay here. You are demoted to D3.

"Damn. I fail again."

- Till you won't reenter to the D4, you stay in the basement.

I smile. Freedom is closer than ever.