Shelly lived in a small town in York. She had just turned 16, and her parents had begun to let her use their car, a 1999 Toyota Camry, freely, so long as she provided her own gas money.

In this same little town, many years earlier, there were two artists, the very finest throughout the entire state, that had met at a professional art show. The man, a sculptor had asked this beautiful, talented young painter to dinner. The two local celebrities began a fine courtship, known all throughout the county. Eventually, the man fell for her, and popped the question. She, of course, said yes.

This couple was extremely good at what they did, and they would often combine their skills to make hauntingly realistic sculptures, specifically those of people performing tasks or posing. Through these sculptors, they were able to achieve great wealth. When they heard that Shelly, a responsible young teen, was looking for employment, they offered her a babysitting job on a late Friday night, while they went off to an art exhibit.

Shelly was happy to take the job. After all, they were only the richest people within a 250-mile radius. She drove herself over with some money she borrowed from her chubby friend Beth from school. As she pulled up in front of the dark mansion, she recalled a conversation with Beth, a veteran babysitter.

Shelly: What happens if a kid gets hurt?! And what if there is a worse emergency?!?

Beth: Relax, nothing will happen. Worst case scenario is that one of the brats "spills some protein" and you get to clean it up. If anything else happens you'll just have to contact the parents.

She let out a heavy, somewhat anxious sigh, as she got out of her car and began approaching the door...