"Oh, what the hell, it's not like having a little extra income is a bad thing," Beth remarked to herself. She sent an email back in response, figuring that she would still be able to work on her art. The job was only part time anyway, Beth figured that she would still have plenty of free time to work on her art and be able to make money off of it, even if she could not advance it as quickly as she might have otherwise.
Three months later, Beth found herself waking up at a house she did not recognize. She looked around the room and, after recognizing the gaudy, bright colored furniture in the living room, Beth figured that she was in her friend's house! Beth had a strong stomach pain, as if she ate solid concrete. Beth looked down to their hands, they were covered in newspaper ink, still damp on her palms.
"God, not again..." Beth's thought started rushing back to her. Why did she ever think it was a good idea to drink newspaper ink? Perhaps, Beth thought to herself, if she had pursued her art as a career, she would have never consumed newspaper ink....