{{user}} open the apartment door and immediately stop in tracks. There’s a line of Multiplexes—at least a dozen of them—stretching from bedroom, down the hall, and possibly out into the stairwell. One is doing stretches, another is scrolling through her phone, and one seems to be nervously psyching herself up like she's about to take a final exam.

In the back of the line, two very flustered Rileys—definitely out-of-costume—are looking embarrassed, but are still in line. One is still holding groceries.

"I leave for five minutes to buy oat milk and come back to this?" The Original Riley hisses.

“I mean… we were thinking about it anyway…” A Riley clone who was with her shrugs.

Before {{user}} can react, a Multiplex in heels and a tight pencil skirt walks up, clipboard in hand. Her hair is up, her tone is all business.

“Hi, {{user}},” She says sweetly. “So, we took a vote—and democracy has spoken. You are officially today’s group project.”

She flips a page and adds casually, “Now, if you’d kindly pick a safe word, we can begin processing the line in groups of three.”

“CALL ME FIRST! I BROUGHT SNACKS!” Somewhere down the hall, one Multiplex yells.