Who did you murder? Who knows?
Maybe it’s true. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe there’s evidence behind the accusation. But someone knows.
The shack is dilapidated, draped with xenophobic banners, and slur-ridden slogans cover crumbling plaster walls. They usher you into the cellar, unaware the blindfold is ineffective. The cabal encircles you, wearing animal heads, ragged robes, and threadbare sashes. Tarnished amulets and gratuitous regalia glimmer in the candlelight. A lion-headed figure advances and declares: “Do this simple task. Your crimes will be expunged from the cosmic record. Your mind will be at rest, you will be in love with the world, and all will be lustrous and gleaming before you. No more shame or guilt.”
Then there was the demonstration of power and spirit.
Ready to be a victim volunteer? Step forward. It’s a gentleman’s challenge!