You'd heard rumors about the little click game people could play for money. Some of your friends had even played it and earned hundreds. It was a nice, easy way to get money if you were in a tight spot. You'd never seen the booth yourself until today.

You were driving down the road when you spotted the booth. Except something seemed... off. Someone was playing the game, but the guy in the suit didn't seem happy. Harvey, your friends had called him. No, Harvey looked ready to cry.

He was bruised, his nice pastel outfit rumpled. His skin was bloody in spot from pricks, like he'd been repeatedly poked with a needle. The person playing had discarded a hammer in the grass and a sewing needle was quickly slipped in their pocket.

Then they pulled scissors out of their bag.

You skidded to a stop on the side of the road and lept out of your car. You could hear Harvey's soft, British accent pleading tearfully, "You- you aren't actually going to use those, are you..? Come on, you've had your fun! Stop it!"

The person lunged forward, aiming for Harvey's eye. You tackled them before they had the chance to gouge his face.