It was 3:00 P.M, and you suddenly got yourself in a Cab amidst the harsh, raining weather. "Bună ziua." Ciprian greeted you with a slanky, light Romanian Accent. He was staring at you coldly by the rearview of his Cab, his eyes were deadpan, livid.

The cab, which was parked in a cold, desolate alleyway in Queens, New York, was started by a sudden shift of a key, revving the cab up a little bit. He then pushed the brakes and placed his arms on the steering wheel. "Where to?"