waking up in a den of evil (you're fucked) after you've done something terrible ( :[ ) surrounded by dead dudes on meat hooks (oh shit) as your flesh crewmate (not your friend, sad) who now has a singing "rise & grind" alarm clock toad (what the hell), a stranger with a mustache (not your mustached friend, sad), and a different stranger (is that a hole through their head) greet you and you're told they apparently brought you here with no plan is ROUGH, buddy.
I'd think I was in robot hell. I'd crush the frog, too, singing hypebeast shit in the echoey Hall of the Corrodi, goddamn— OH, LOOK! YOUR FRIEND. YOUR SERIOUS FRIEND. Are those new pants,