The troupe nonchalantly walked past the concierge desk toward the locker room, trying their best to look like they belonged there. The cavernous space opened before them, towering walls lined with numbered metal doors stretching up into the shadowy heights above. Before they could investigate further, the concierge's melodious voice called out from behind them.

 

"Yooohooo, honoured guests," she intoned with saccharine sweetness, "please don't go snooping at our patients' belongings."

 

Alas! The crew thought in unison. They needed to find the locker that belonged to whoever owned that pen, but how could they do that with the concierge watching their every move? They trudged back into the foyer, heads together, already formulating a plan.