You turned right, and now you are wandering through a maze of stone walls, floors, and steps.
Gnarled stone hands point in every direction, and there is no exact order to anything. Suddenly, you get an idea. You dig around in your pockets to find something to write with. You discover a tube of lipstick (or a piece of chalk, depending on your sex) and begin to draw arrows on the floor indicating the way you went.
Unbeknownst to you, some little goblin creatures live underneath the tiles, and you've just written on their ceiling . . .
After you walk away, the goblins pop up from their homes, and yell at you:
"What-a goes on!? Pasta vizzuli!
She's writing on the fraggedy walk-de-walk!
Your mother is a fraggin' aardvark!"
Meanwhile, back in the castle . . .
Eventually you run into a dead end. You turn back around, and you realize something terrible, the goblins had been switching your marks around in revenge:
"Someone's been changing my marks!
What a horrible place this is; it's not fair!"
Then much to your surprise, someone answers back!
"That's right, it's not fair."
"But that's just the half of it."
You turn around quickly, and find . . .
