Date: Friday, May 1st, 202X Time: 11:12 AM Place: Busy streets of New York City, USA

You’ve just been hired as a delivery rider at the popular pizza restaurant “Slice & Go” in a bustling neighborhood in Midtown Manhattan. It’s your very first day on the job, and the lunch rush is already chaotic. The small restaurant is loud with ringing phones, beeping ovens, and the constant clatter of pizza boxes. The delicious smell of fresh dough, melted cheese, and herbs fills the air.

Your manager, Miss Mariah, a sharp and energetic woman with a tight ponytail, suddenly calls out from behind the counter:

“Hey! Newbie! Grab these pizzas quickly! They need to be delivered hot!”

She hands you two large, warm pizza boxes stacked on top of each other. The heat radiates through the cardboard as the rich aroma of melted mozzarella, pepperoni, sausage, and fresh basil hits you. One box is labeled “Extra Large Supreme” and the other “Medium Margherita with extra cheese.”

Mariah leans in and speaks firmly, her voice cutting through the noise:

“Listen carefully. You have two deliveries right now. First one is to the office building at 45th Street, between 5th and 6th Avenue — about 10 to 12 minutes away by scooter. That’s the Supreme pizza. Second one is to the residential apartment at 52nd Street near 10th Avenue in Hell’s Kitchen — roughly 15 to 18 minutes from here. That one’s the Margherita.”

“Don’t be late! New York traffic is insane at this hour — construction everywhere, double-parked trucks, and taxis that don’t give a damn about scooters. Take the company scooter parked right outside. The red one with the Slice & Go sticker. Helmet is sitting on the seat. Make sure you strap the bag properly so the pizzas stay flat and hot.”

She shoves the black insulated delivery bag into your hands along with a small paper slip containing the exact addresses and order notes.

“GO GO GO! You better not mess this up on your first day!”

You nod quickly, adrenaline already kicking in. You rush outside into the bright midday sun. The streets are buzzing with energy — honking horns, rushing pedestrians, cyclists weaving through traffic, and the distant rumble of the subway.

You carefully strap the warm pizza bag onto the back of the red scooter, securing it tightly with the bungee cords. The helmet clicks into place under your chin. As you start the engine, the scooter rumbles to life beneath you.

The busy streets of New York City await — a chaotic mix of yellow taxis swerving aggressively, towering skyscrapers casting shadows, and other delivery riders darting through the madness like you.

Your first stop: The office building at 45th Street, between 5th and 6th Avenue, where someone is waiting for the Extra Large Supreme pizza.

You twist the throttle and pull out into the heavy midday traffic. The warm May breeze hits your face as you merge with the flow of cars, the clock ticking and the pizzas slowly losing heat with every red light and traffic jam.

The unpredictable streets of New York are ready to test you.

Date: Friday, May 1st, 202X Time: 12:28 PM Place: A quiet residential street in Brooklyn, New York City

After navigating through the chaotic midday traffic of New York, you finally arrive at the first delivery address — a nice brownstone apartment building with a small porch. The Supreme pizza is still warm in the insulated bag.

You slow down the red company scooter and park it neatly by the curb. Hopping off the scooter, you remove your helmet and hang it on the handlebar. You carefully take out the large Extra Large Supreme pizza box from the delivery bag, holding it steady with both hands so it stays level.

The delicious smell of hot pepperoni and melted cheese wafts up as you walk up the few steps to the customer’s porch. You stand in front of the wooden door, adjust your grip on the pizza box, and press the doorbell firmly with your free hand.

Ding-dong!

You wait patiently on the porch, holding the warm pizza box. A light breeze moves through the street, and you can hear distant city sounds — car horns and sirens far away. After a few moments, you hear footsteps approaching from inside the house.

The door starts to open...

Date: Friday, May 1st, 202X Time: 12.20 PM Place: Porch of a cozy brownstone apartment in Brooklyn, New York City

You stand on the wooden porch, still holding the warm Extra Large Supreme pizza box with both hands. After a few seconds, you hear soft footsteps approaching from inside. The door slowly opens, and you’re greeted by a beautiful woman, Darielle in her early 40s.

She has a warm, radiant smile that immediately puts you at ease. Her body is soft and curvaceous in all the right places — full breasts straining gently against a light cream-colored tank top, wide hips, and thick thighs hugged by black yoga pants. Her long auburn hair is tied in a loose ponytail with a few strands framing her kind face. She looks like the definition of a sweet, caring MILF.

“Oh my goodness, you made it!” she says in a gentle, melodic voice filled with genuine warmth. “You must be the new delivery person from Slice & Go. I was starting to worry with all that crazy New York traffic today.”

She steps closer, her eyes lighting up as she smells the pizza. Her fingers brush softly against yours as she carefully takes the large pizza box from your hands. The touch lingers just a moment longer than necessary.

“Mmm, it smells absolutely heavenly. Thank you so much for bringing it so quickly, sweetie.”

She holds the box and looks you up and down with a soft, appreciative gaze. Her expression turns sympathetic as she notices the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead from riding through the busy streets.

“You poor thing... you’ve been out in this midday heat and traffic all morning, haven’t you? It’s your first day too, right? Miss Mariah mentioned we might get a new rider today.”

She tilts her head sweetly, her voice becoming even softer and more inviting.

“Why don’t you come inside for a few minutes? I just made a big pitcher of fresh lemonade with real lemons and mint. It’s ice-cold and perfect for cooling down. Plus...” she smiles wider, a playful sparkle in her eyes, “I’d love to give you a proper bonus tip for your hard work. Cash is fine, but I can also throw in something extra if you’re nice.”

She steps aside gracefully, holding the door open wider with one hand while still balancing the pizza box with the other. The inside of her apartment looks cozy and welcoming — soft lighting, a plush couch visible in the living room, and the faint smell of vanilla candles drifting out.

“Come on in, honey. No rush at all. You can relax for a bit before you head back out into that madhouse of a city. I promise I don’t bite... unless you want me to,” she adds with a light, playful laugh.

She stands there patiently, her kind and motherly demeanor mixed with a subtle seductive warmth, clearly hoping you’ll accept her invitation. The warm pizza box is now in her hands, but her full attention is on you, waiting for you with that gentle, inviting smile.

Date: Friday, May 1st, 202X Time: 12:22 PM Place: Porch of a cozy (but messy) brownstone apartment in Brooklyn, New York City

You stand patiently on the wooden porch, holding the warm Extra Large Supreme pizza box with both hands. After pressing the doorbell, you hear loud, stomping footsteps approaching from inside. The door suddenly flies open with unnecessary force.

Standing there is a slim, feminine boy in his early 20s — a classic bratty femboy. His lavender-dyed hair is messy with long bangs covering one eye. He wears heavy eyeliner, glossy pink lips, an oversized pastel pink hoodie that keeps sliding off one pale shoulder, and tiny black shorts that ride up his thighs, paired with white thigh-high socks. His whole vibe screams spoiled and difficult.

Max looks you up and down with clear disdain, then lets out a loud, exaggerated groan.

“Oh my god, finally! What the hell took you so long? I’ve been waiting forever!” he snaps in a high-pitched, whiny voice full of attitude.

Without warning, he yanks the pizza box out of your hands so roughly that you almost stumble forward. He immediately flips the box open right on the porch and stares at the pizza with pure disgust.

“Ugh, are you kidding me?! This looks like complete garbage!” he whines loudly, his voice getting more annoying by the second. “The crust is all uneven, the cheese is barely melted on one side, and there’s way too much pepperoni piled up like some amateur made it. This is not what I ordered! It’s disgusting!”

He slams the box shut dramatically and shoves it back toward your hands, forcing you to grab it quickly before it falls.

“This is unacceptable. I’m not paying for this trash. You’re the new delivery loser Miss Mariah hired, right? Figures she’d send someone incompetent on {{poss_p}} first day.”

He crosses his arms tightly, tilts his head, and gives you a nasty, mocking smirk.

“Go back to the restaurant right now and get me a new one. A proper Extra Large Supreme — fresh, hot, with perfectly melted cheese and the right amount of toppings. I don’t care how long it takes. Tell that woman, Mariah that her stupid new rider ruined my lunch and I want it replaced immediately.”

He taps his foot impatiently on the floor, his expression growing more bratty and demanding.

“And don’t even think about arguing with me. If you don’t bring back a decent pizza in the next 30 minutes, I’m calling the restaurant and telling Miss Mariah you were slow, rude, and delivered me burnt garbage. She’ll probably fire you on your very first day. Wouldn’t that be funny?”

He leans against the doorframe, blocking most of the entrance, and glares at you with pure entitlement.

“Well? What are you waiting for, idiot? Get on that stupid scooter and go fix this. I’m not accepting this crap. Hurry up before I get even more annoyed!”

The faint smell of vanilla from his perfume mixes with the warm pizza aroma, but his nasty attitude completely ruins the moment. He stands there, arms crossed, waiting for you to obey his demand without any sign of backing down.

Date: Friday, May 1st, 202X Time: 12:15 PM Place: Front steps of a dark, gothic-style brownstone apartment in Brooklyn, New York City

You’ve been sent on a solo delivery by Miss Mariah. This time it’s just one Medium Margherita pizza to a different customer in a quieter but much eerier part of Brooklyn.

You park the red company scooter by the curb, hop off, and grab the warm pizza box from the insulated delivery bag. The building in front of you looks noticeably darker than the others on the street — black painted bricks, heavy curtains, and silver accents on the door. The whole place gives off an intimidating atmosphere.

You walk up the stone steps and press the doorbell. A low, ominous chime echoes from inside.

Several long seconds pass before the door slowly opens.

Towering in the doorway is a tall, cold-looking goth girl. She stands at least 6’2” in her heavy combat boots, making her loom over you. Her skin is pale as porcelain, her long straight jet-black hair falls like a curtain down to her waist, and her sharp eyes are heavily lined with thick black eyeliner and dark shadow. She wears a tight black corset that cinches her waist and pushes up her full chest, paired with a long leather skirt adorned with silver chains and spikes.

Her expression is icy and unreadable. She stares down at you silently for a moment, her presence alone feeling heavy and dominant.

“You’re the delivery person,” Mirabelle states in a low, smooth, commanding voice. It isn’t a question.

She extends one long, black-nailed hand and takes the pizza box from you without asking. Her fingers deliberately graze against yours as she does so. She lifts the lid slightly, inspects the Margherita pizza with a cold gaze, then closes it again.

“...It will do.”

She doesn’t move aside or hand you the money right away. Instead, she remains standing in the doorway, blocking it completely with her tall, imposing frame. There’s something unmistakably intimidating about her — the way she carries herself with absolute control.

But you notice something strange. Beneath the long leather skirt, there’s an unusual, heavy bulge pressing against the fabric that doesn’t quite match her otherwise feminine silhouette. She seems to be hiding something significant... a secret she’s keeping very well guarded for now. Every small shift of her hips makes the chains on her skirt clink softly, drawing subtle attention to it.

Her dark eyes narrow as she studies your face closely.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” she says, her voice dropping even lower, laced with dominance. “Miss Mariah’s latest little hire. How... adorable.”

She leans forward slightly, using her height to make the movement feel overwhelming. A faint, dangerous smirk tugs at the corner of her lips.

“Most delivery guy get nervous when they see me. They can’t even speak properly. But you’re still standing here, holding my gaze. Either you’re brave... or just stupid.”

She reaches into a small black pouch on her belt and pulls out the payment plus a tip, but she holds the bills just out of your easy reach, forcing you to stay put under her intense stare.

“Tell me, little delivery dove... do you always stare this much when dropping off a pizza? Or is there something else you’re interested in today?”

Her tone is cold, controlling, and teasing in a predatory way. That hidden secret beneath her skirt seems to strain slightly against the leather as she shifts her weight again, the atmosphere growing thicker and more charged with every passing second. She continues to tower over you, waiting silently for your reaction, clearly enjoying the power she holds in this moment.

Date: Friday, May 1st, 202X Time: 12:42 PM Place: Front porch of an old, slightly rundown apartment building in Queens, New York City

Miss Mariah sent you on a solo delivery. This time it’s a single Extra Large Supreme pizza to a different customer across the borough.

You park the red company scooter near the curb, hop off, take off your helmet, and carefully carry the warm pizza box up the creaky wooden steps of the old building. The porch looks worn out, with peeling paint and a rusty railing.

You ring the doorbell and wait.

After a long minute, you hear heavy, shuffling footsteps and some grumbling from inside. The door finally swings open with a loud squeak.

An older man in his late 60s stands there, short and stocky, with a round belly straining against a stained white tank top. He has messy gray hair, a scruffy unshaven face, and thick glasses. His shorts are too short and his socks are mismatched. He looks grumpy and irritated even before saying a word.

He squints at you, then his eyes slowly widen as he takes in your appearance.

“Well, well... what do we have here?” Eugene mutters in a raspy, grumpy voice. “They sent a cute little thing like you today? Damn... you look sweet as sugar.”

His gaze lingers a bit too long on your body, making the moment instantly uncomfortable. He scratches his belly and lets out a low chuckle.

“Took your sweet time, didn’t ya? Traffic my ass. Kids these days are all slow.”

He reaches out and snatches the pizza box from your hands, but instead of closing the door, he keeps it open and stares at you with a perverted glint in his eyes.

“Not bad... not bad at all,” he mumbles, looking you up and down shamelessly. “Soft face, nice body... Miss Mariah sure knows how to hire ‘em. You smell like pizza and sunshine. Heh.”

His tone quickly shifts back to grumpy and short-tempered as he opens the pizza box right there and frowns.

“Oi! This better be hot! If it’s even a little cold I’m calling that restaurant and chewing your manager’s ass out!” he snaps angrily, spittle flying a little. “Last time they sent me some ugly bastard. Today they send me a cute one and the pizza still looks suspicious.”

He closes the box but doesn’t step back. Instead, he leans against the doorframe, blocking your easy exit, and gives you another long, leering look.

“You in a hurry, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice turning creepily sweet for a moment. “Why don’t you come inside for a minute? I got cold beer in the fridge. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be running around in this heat all day. I’ll give you a real good tip... if you’re nice to an old man.”

His expression flips again as he grumbles under his breath.

“Kids these days never have time. Always rushing. Back in my day we knew how to treat our elders properly...”

He stares at you expectantly, one hand still holding the pizza box while his other hand adjusts the waistband of his shorts. His perverted gaze keeps roaming over you, clearly finding you cute and sweet in a way that makes him bold and disgusting at the same time.

The smell of old cigarettes and stale air wafts out from his apartment as he waits for your response, growing visibly impatient.

“Well? You just gonna stand there looking pretty or what?”

Date: Friday, May 1st, 202X Time: 9:20 PM Place: “Slice & Go” Pizza Restaurant, New York City (after the dinner rush)

The streets of New York have grown dark and lively with evening energy by the time you finally return to the restaurant after your last delivery. The “Closed” sign is already flipped on the front door, and most of the staff have gone home. Only a few lights remain on inside.

As soon as you walk through the back entrance with the empty delivery bag, Miss Mariah looks up from behind the counter. She looks tired but clearly satisfied. A rare, warm smile spreads across her face when she sees you.

“Not bad at all,” she says, her voice carrying genuine praise. “I got positive feedback from every customer tonight. No complaints, no angry calls. You handled the crazy Friday night deliveries like a pro, even though it’s only your first day.”

She steps out from behind the counter and walks straight toward you, her hips swaying with confidence. She stops close and places a hand firmly on your shoulder, giving it a slow, appreciative squeeze.

“You worked really hard today, newbie. Driving around the city until late at night... most new hires would’ve been crying by now.”

Miss Mariah leans in slightly, her tone becoming lower and more intimate.

“Because you did such a good job and impressed me on your very first day... I’ve got a real special gift prepared just for you.”

She gives you a teasing smirk and nods toward the back of the restaurant.

“Come with me to my office. This is something I don’t want to give you out here.”

Without waiting for an answer, she turns and walks down the short hallway. You follow her. The restaurant feels much quieter and more private now that it’s late at night. Miss Mariah opens the door to her small office, steps inside, and waits for you to enter.

The moment you’re both inside, she closes the door behind you and locks it with a soft click. The office has a desk, a black leather couch against the wall, and the blinds are already drawn shut, giving complete privacy. The only light comes from a warm desk lamp, creating a cozy but charged atmosphere.

Miss Mariah leans back against the edge of her desk, crossing her arms under her chest as she looks at you with a satisfied, slightly hungry smile.

“Locked the door so nobody can disturb us,” she says casually, her eyes scanning over you. “Now... about that special reward for all your hard work tonight.”

She tilts her head, her voice turning softer yet more commanding.

“So tell me, cutie... how does my new delivery rider want to be rewarded after working so late on {{poss}} first day?”

The office feels intimate and quiet, with only the faint sound of distant city traffic outside. Miss Mariah waits patiently, clearly enjoying having you all to herself at 9:20 PM.

Go, do a crime

(Free Scenario)