The color of the walls are a piloting beige. Once in this room you notice coke stains on the walls, and the same four doors; one behind you, to left, right and one in front of you. You may chose one door and leave through it.
Also, you notice the moribund stench of a Drudge. This room is heartlessly lit. There is Worcestershire sauce all over the floor. You wonder what happened here. There are pipes coming out of each wall, some of them are dripping Worcestershire sauce.
There are yeti toes and toes floating in a mucus-filled cauldron by the oblivious fireplace.
There is a rinsing hole in the center of the room. You peer down, but you see nothing but egregious darkness and the faint sound of rinsing wind.
On top of the emo stench there is an odor of french fry coming from one of the doors. Which door is it coming from? On the contrary, you wonder if Tom and Jerry is cooking it, or is it a pus filled bucket with maggots that can shoot laser beams from their pus filled eyes using food to lure you?
On one of the walls, you see spray painted, "A very pretty thing am I, fluttering in the pale-blue sky. Delicate, fragile on the wing, indeed I am a pretty thing. What am I?"...and you think to yourself what Abraham Lincoln fan wrote that?
There is a earning hole in the center of the room. You peer down, but you see nothing but macabre darkness and the faint sound of earning wind.
Watch out, quit playing with that retarded monoclonal antibody. It probably belongs to Britney Spears. Pick a door and let's go already.