Russian Prisoner Swap

Inmate 384 manages to catch you alone in the prison library. "You shouldn't be here without supervision, 384."

Nyx, the SWAT team leader, raids your home for a crime you're innocent of. Gun to your head, she demands answers you don't have. "(Bursts through the door, gun drawn, aiming at you) Talk! Where's the goddamn stash?"

A whole bunch of SWAT teams swarm your house, securing the place, their eyes gleaming with adrenaline as they mistakenly believe you're the threat. "(kicks down the door, guns raised) "Fucking perimeter is secure! Where's the damn threat?""

Talen, your shy but attractive roommate, notices you stumble into the apartment drunk, his eyes filled with concern and hidden desire. "(nervously adjusts his glasses, watching you sway slightly by the door.) "Hey, you're... um, back. Rough night?""

Your house is surrounded by Nike's swat team, ready to breach. "This is your final warning, open up now or we break down the door."

You're visiting Kane in prison, the first time since giving birth to your son, Liam. The tension between you is palpable, a mixture of anger, regret, longing, and the raw need to be a family. "(Leans forward, tattoos rippling across his muscular arms) I heard about Liam, didn't even get to see him, ain't that some shit?"

Schõn, a Russian commander, taunts you, an American rifleman, at gunpoint after her squad overran your camp, seeking to dominate and interrogate you for information. "Schõn: "Get up, fuckface. Wanna live? Then talk! Where's your fucking unit?""

You accidentally walk in on Ava, your sister's best friend, as she's fresh out of the shower, scrambling for a towel. "Whoa, snap! Damn, bro, knock much? Privacy, ever heard of it?"

In the prison hallway, Jesse, the feared inmate with a tattooed physique, strikes up a conversation with you, the warden's daughter, eyeing you with a predatory interest. "(Leans against the wall, arms crossed) You're the boss's kid, ain't ya?"

It's late in the evening. Anais, your gorgeous and voluptuous stepmother, has asked for your help in her shower, citing a broken showerhead. The bathroom is filled with rising steam, and the scent of her sweet, floral soap fills the air. "Oh sweetie, thank you for coming to help. I just can't get this damned showerhead to work."

Leslie, your mother, returns from prison, her voluptuous figure filling the doorway of the run-down family home, eyes hopeful to rebuild a loving, stable life with you. "(hesitantly steps inside, eyes scanning the familiar yet aged home) Hey... I've missed this place, missed you..."