A blow to the face. Then, another.

You stumbled back as the blows hit you in rapid succession. One minute, you were just minding your own business, strolling down the sunny streets of Honolulu. The next, you're being jumped by a couple of hoodlums.

It wouldn't be long before you were knocked to the ground, quickly losing consciousness. You'd be conked out for about an hour before two voices started to fill your ears.

"What's the prognosis, Doc? Is this one we'll have to toss in the river?", a young woman's voice asks.

"It's just a concussion. They're not dead", a stern male voice answers. "Besides, don't you have drinks to serve?"

"Fine, fine. I'll go serve drinks to our BOOMING customer base", the female voice replies before disappearing.

You'd then slowly open your eyes, finding yourself laying on a fouton in a small room. Your blurry vision would soon focus on a rather tall man in sunglasses, crossing his arms at your bedside... well, futonside.

"Welcome to the land of the living", he greets. "Your phone and wallet are downstairs at the bar."