Zack:

A beautiful young woman hangs from the ceiling. Nine ugly men can be seen poking their swords lightly into her flesh, all the while taunting her in an unknown language and pulling at what few clothes she has on. Part of her ankle length hair has been wrapped around her legs, securely binding them together, while the rest of her hair has been used to tie her hands to a ceiling beam. A long U shaped table dominates most of the floor space. A huge fireplace is on the north wall.

Steve: Oh yeah, here we go. I feel so bad looking at this way-intense illustration promoting hair violence against women!

Zack: The woman screams plaintively and wiggles around shaking her boobs as the little ugly men menace her.

Steve: Yeah, okay, this scenario is super hot and all, but this banned picture is called the ILLUSION of the Decapus. I've fallen for this old trick before. I walk in there and scare off the midgets and start rubbing my studded codpiece all over her and before I know it I'm paying child support to a denizen of nightmares for my octopus centaur babies.

Zack: They would be guitar masters with all those tentacles. The ugly men are really prodding her hot body with their manly swords making her scream in terror. What are you going to do, Yngwulf Maimsteen?

Steve: Fat try, butt burger, but I sussed out your little scheme back in the archway. Your pit trap failed and your illusion is similarly a failure, because what way-hetero rocker would want to hook up with Crystal Gayle over there with the hair?

Steve: "Don't bother answering. Allow me to play you my latest shredfest. I call it Wrong Move, Decapus. Stop me if you've heard this one before." I proceed to unleash all three levels of my shredding ability on my original composition custom-written to belittle and annihilate the lies of the Decapus.

Zack: The illusion disappears as your bone-piercing licks shred the very reality of the Decapus. Each of the illusory figures become a gross, slimy tentacle and his evil mouth hangs open releasing disgusting farty smells.

Steve: "Just as I thought. You would have made a terrible mom." Double up the shredding. Improvising crazy lyrics while my guitar violently pukes. "Decapus. Decapus. Reverse flushed out of hell's truckstop toilet. Decapus. Decapus. Conjures phantasms with zero idea of sex-appeal."

Zack: The Decapus explodes! You are showered in stinking, steaming goop.

Steve: There's got to be some treasure in here.

Zack: You wipe the goop out of your eyes and search the room. Beneath a loose stone in the fireplace you discover a sack containing 30 silver pieces and 15 rubies. You also find a silver arrow.

Steve: 30 silver pieces, eh? The Passion of the Decapus. Alright, I saw the Decapus and his BS. Now where's this Charmander guy and the ruby so I can clean house?

Zack: There's a door to the east in this room or you can head back into the hall and head west.

Steve: Heading west.

Zack: You continue down the dark, foreboding hallway west when you suddenly feel a cold draft. It seems to be coming from the wall to the south...but there's no door.

Steve: Yeah, right, gonna strum some chords of reveal hidden doors and making the secret door vibrate open.

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