You receive instructions and an address from the mysterious website.

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At noon the next Monday, you arrive at a mysterious building downtown. After knocking on the door in an intricate pattern, you are admitted to a large room with ten other people. They range in age from preteens to middle-aged adults, and seem to come from various walks of life. There's a young teenager wearing a very well-fitted suit, a portly man who gives off Eau De Used Car Salesman, a 50-something woman in a tracksuit, and a woman in very soiled clothes holding a small terrier. Nervous chatter fills the air.

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After only a few seconds, the anticipation builds to a point. What are you doing here? Did you really believe that spam?

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As you turn to leave, the lights dim. You direct your attention back to the front of the room, where a short woman in a bowler cap has appeared.

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"Welcome to Caverstone," she says, her voice a pleasant rumble. "We will begin by testing each of your abilities. Do not worry" - she hastens to add - "you all are more than qualified to be students here. This is so that your instructors can know where you all are starting. The low-water-line, if you will.

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"Please, follow me to individual rooms when I call your name."

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Your name is called first.