Smiling nervously at the dungeonkeeper, you say: ‘Judas Priest. You’re a Judas Priest fan.‘
An ominous silence fills the air, before the dungeonkeeper lowers his torch. You hear the jangling of keys and you breathe a deep sigh of relief. It was a fifty-fifty guess and, judging from the fact that the dungeonkeeper is now unlocking the door, you must have got it right.
Seconds later, the cell door swings open and you step out. The dungeonkeeper smiles at you fiendishly and says: ‘Acolyte. I have something …cool… to show you.‘ before putting one of his bony hands on your shoulder and gently leading you down the corridor.
Eventually, the two of you stop at a nondescript metal door. Obviously it must be some kind of shortcut out of the dungeon, or possibly he just wants to show you his record collection. Fumbling with his keys again, the dungeonkeeper unlocks the door. You think about making a run for it, but decide that this would probably be rude.
‘Now… this…. is something.‘ The dungeonkeeper cackles to himself as he throws the door open. You gasp with shock as you see a fully-equipped medieval torture chamber. There’s the rack, the red-hot pincers, the branks, the boot, the wheel, the thumbscrews, the press and, yes, a large iron maiden stands triumphantly in the corner of the room, open and ready for it’s next victim.
‘Acolyte, acolyte. I am shocked! Have you never … heard … of Iron Maiden before? You are obviously in need of a… practical…. education in heavy metal.‘ Before you can say anything, the dungeonkeeper is already frogmarching you towards the iron maiden. From the ominous gleaming of the freshly-sharpened spikes inside, it obviously wants you for dead.
If you think that you can escape the dungeonkeeper’s grasp, then you’ve got another thing coming. You’re stuck between the hammer and the anvil. It looks like you’re going to need one hell of a painkiller after the dungeonkeeper grabs the lid and decides to ram it down.