I'm continuing it Detroit boy. Enjoy your Juggaloes, dick-whip.
A smell hit me first, an organic 'hasn't been cleaned and needs to sweat less' stench that made my eyes water and my knees buckle for a second. I reached for the handle but the door was already shut. I blundered around, trying to remember the layout of the room, and smacked my head into something ropey and greasy that had never been there before. I looked up, and flinched.
The opposite wall was composite of a single stretch of skin, perforated by the dark spots of hair follicles the size of my index finger. At the very centre was a long, black hair, the spot from which it grew out of the skin was tender and yellowing. The skin stretching into the wall, becoming it at the now rounded corners.
It suddenly occurred to me that the room was significantly smaller with what appeared to be a large stretch of groin skin grafted to it. It also occurred to me that I was trapped in here with it.
I took several tentative steps forward, waiting for a reaction. Nothing happened. Satan's wallpaper just kept taking long, sighing breaths.
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I see you jockin' me.
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