You pocket your disembodied dentures, momentarily forgetting that your pockets are full of holes, and watch forlornly as they disappear through a chink in the floorboards. By now you are desperate to leave the room, but your trials are not over yet, for while you were busy with the glue, someone has bricked up the only door! Your only options are to use Donald's head as a battering ram, search for secret passages, or commit hara-kiri in the hope that your next incarnation will have better luck...