Mixup

Kenzo was a little surprised when a man walked into his hotel room. Luckily, he had just finished changing; otherwise, he might have been quite embarrassed. Kenzo first spoke with his native tongue, but seeing how confused the man was, he switched to english.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” Kenzo asked with a thick accent.

“Just coming to see what body my wife got,” The man said in a thick southern drawl, “But no need for those little role playing games to make this more interesting; that body is clearly enough!”

“No role play!” Kenzo insisted, “It’s a mixup. I will call the front desk.” Kenzo was getting nervous. He had been to Exchange Island many times, but never had been any sort of mixup. Yet there was this man standing here, who clearly had a key to his room, telling Kenzo that he was this man’s wife?

As Kenzo picked up the phone, the man began to reach toward Kenzo inappropriately. An instant later, Kenzo military training kicked in, and the man was cold on the floor. Kenzo continued to dial the front desk to explain everything.