You pull up to the scene of the crime with Bill, your partner.

“Wow, looks like a bull in a china shop.” Bill said as he stepped out of the car. “But I guess that’s better than a porcupine in a condom store.”

“Yeah, you’re a real wise-acre. Now shut up.” You say.

The crime scene was a Chinese Emporium. Apparently, an actual bull smashed through the front window, thrashed around violently, then fell over dead. The proprietor, one Jen Lee-Berg, was nonplussed to say the least.

“I don’t understand!” She said.

“Sure, sure.” Bill said. “So do you have many enemies in the bovine world?”

“Bill! Go look over the crime scene, will ya?” You say.

“Fine, whatever. You take all the fun outta bein’a cop.”

“Sorry about him, ma’am.”

“It’s OK, I’ll shoot him next.” She said, whipping out a gun from behind the counter, pointing it at your chest.

You can’t reach your shoulder holster in time, you can only defend yourself with something from the countertop: pearl chopsticks, or a bamboo fan.

Choose Your Doom.