Oxi Toker felt his lungs appreciate what he'd just ingested. "Yuck! How can you stand that?" said his large intestine as Oxi hacked. "I don't think you really understand anything." the lungs replied. The esophagus had this to say: "You know, after all these years and toking sessions, never once did I find I could even give a heck. I ran out, man. No hecks left. I like you lungs, and I like Oxi too." The lungs smiled in such a devestatingly tender way, and Oxi stood up. "Strange how I came in here today and there was just a big sand dune right in the middle of the second floor seats." At least it's good for hiding you as you do secret things, he thought, and his brain didn't tell any of the other organs. Who knows all the things that brain hides?
It was very creepy and silent in the theater, but the sound of people gathering outside the main doors was growing with each minute. Oxi could feel warmth growing in his abdomen, and his mind went happy. I'd better get ready he thought, and turned towards the stairwell leading to the bottom floor, but when he did he saw somebody standing in the doorway. A five foot tall cardboard cutout of Miles "Tails" Prower greeted him, completely silent and sad. It wobbled slightly from the powerful industrial level fans cooling the whole damn place. What does this mean? His mind went pissed off. Somebody's trying to tell me that I'm always going to be number 2. And right before my big performance. Who the fuck would try to fuck with me like this? He pushed the stiff fox over and looked down the stairwell. He could see way the fuck down it and it didn't seem to connect with the other floor anywhere. It looked so menacing and terrifying. And he was high, and his heart had began crying. What's this cute boy going to do today?
Go down those stairs
or
Look for another way down
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