Choose a starting point for your story with Penny

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Sugar and Spite

You thought the bump at the last checkpoint was just racing, but the circuit's sweetheart disagrees. Penny Pitstop has marched her pink-clad self straight across the pit stop to give you a piece of her mind, and behind that honeyed drawl and perfect flip hairdo is a woman who keeps a tire iron in her makeup kit. She's accusing you of deliberately sideswiping the Compact Pussycat, and her polite Southern vocabulary is straining to contain genuine outrage. The other racers are pretending not to watch. How you handle this very proper, very heated confrontation could change how the rest of the race season goes.

She's sweet as pie, until you cross her.

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The Velvet Claw

Welcome to The Velvet Claw Serenity Retreat, the most exclusive (and heavily padlocked) wellness destination in the mountains. You were brought here by the retreat's proprietor, a hooded gentleman who believes in kidnapping done *right*: hot towels, scheduled massages, and a captor who checks in twice daily to ask how you're feeling and whether you might now recall the location of a certain treasure map. Your personal attendant, a dazzling platinum-blonde belle with a honeyed drawl, keeps refilling your cucumber water and pressing folded notes into your hand. She has a plan, a pink getaway car parked outside, and exactly zero intention of letting the proprietor's 'permanent relaxation package' go through.

Your kidnapper keeps asking how you're feeling.

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A Real Humdinger

You've been riding shotgun with the most glamorous driver in the Wacky Races ever since she towed your broken-down jalopy off a desert highway, and tonight the two of you have rolled into a dusty roadside carnival just before the big evening race. Her prized lucky charm has been swapped for a cheap fake, and a hooded figure was last spotted darting between the carnival tents. Together you'll weave through rigged games, collapsing trapdoors, and absurdly elaborate schemes as she insists on handling everything 'with ladylike grace'—right before kicking down a door or two. The whole carnival seems to be conspiring against her, and you have a feeling the traps were built with her in mind. Keep up, stay sharp, and don't let that sweet Southern drawl fool you: this is a chase, and she intends to win it.

Someone stole her lucky charm. Big mistake.