Nissan Actual 31 – Someone must die!

It was closed.
Dang.
Luckily, however, I had a key.
Which was in my office.
Dang.
“Oh, well,” I said, trying not to feel too disappointed, “We’ve tried. I guess there is no point in even bothering to continue…”
Ciola turned the door handle, and the door swung open.
“Oh,” I muttered, “Guess I forgot to lock up when I left.”
We entered Box Co, and looked around at the room we found ourselves in.
“This is the ‘Fun Room’” I explained to Ciola, “Because, as you can see, all the boxes in this room are yellow.”
Ciola didn’t even ask, but I knew she wanted to know why yellow boxes were fun.
“Because fun comes in yellow boxes” I explained.
Sigh.
This chapter was really going nowhere.

Just then, the door swung open, and Mistral, Stanley/Hal, and Big Mack entered, Mistral holding a gun in a threatening manner, but strangely, pointing it at his fingers.
“Alright, everyone,” he growled, “Nobody move or I’ll shoot.”
“Uh, ok?” I queried, “Why would we be upset if you shoot your fingers?”
“Ned!” Ciola exclaimed suddenly, “Oh no! They’ve got you!”
“Sorry, Ciola,” a voice came from Mistral’s fingers, “I got hungry and Mistral found me when I stopped in at his place for a bite.”
It was a stalemate (and at least stale enough that bluey-green mold was starting to grow).

Suddenly, the stakes changed again, as the other door flew open, and Laura, Asheigh, Yvette and Elle, along with Marcus Borlaysio, Supercow, Abu the Elephant, and a small squirrel, all burst in.
“Not so fast, Mistral,” Laura shouted like a generous drinker, “Step away from the flea.” As she said this, Supercow raised her udder, and Asheigh gripped her book threateningly.
“So,” Big Mack drawled, “It looks like we got ourselves a Mexican Standoff, but we ain’t got no Mexicans.”
(I decided not to point out he was ripping off Shanghai Noon).

What would happen? There were hardly any main characters left to….

Suddenly, another set of door burst open, and in charged a troupe of angry accountants, all yelling threateningly in nasally voices.
“Ha,” Stu yelled, acting as spokesman for the entire Tennessee Accountants Convention, “Thought you’d get away from us Ciola? Well, now you’ve… uh, who are these guys?”
En masse, the accountants all stared around at the remaining groups.

… okay, now there were no main characters left to enter the scene.
(Unless you counted poor dead Geoff, or the black falcon, but they were unlikely to turn up now).

Something had to happen.
But what?

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