The punkoid rubs his ear - is that woman a body piercer in her spare time?

He looks around him - what kinda s**thole is this he says, then sees the throne behind him. Jeez K he mutters to himself - I thought it was some kinda s**thole, but not a REAL s**thole! Hey man, we're deep in it this time.

He pushes against the door - hell, it's locked and from the other side! Man, how did she do that?

He stands back and hefts a huge kick at the door. Nuthin' doin' he murmurs, as Newton's Third law of motion comes into play, and he sits down hard on the throne. Hell, damn good job the seat was down!

He sits there for a moment, and considers his position. Can't burn our way outta this one he says. But there ain't a cr**per in this goddamned tavern can hold ME!! he shouts.

The punkoid digs deep into his pocket, discarding sonic screwdriver, bags of jelly babies, and the small electronic book with "Don't Panic" emblazoned on the front in large friendly letters. Doug and the Doc won't help this time! he mutters.

Then he finds it - his Swiss Army complete network construction utility penknife. Hehe - this'll help me outta this trap - good job I got the trusty Bastard Operator From Hell tool with me...