You enter the spot and find yourself transported somewhere above Fanny Brice in a dastardly sex dungeon. The poor victim of this cruel animal testing is wearing a brass bikini. The nature of the torture is is too lurid for us to describe, suffice to say it involves a yak and several feet of rubber tubing. April, dressed in tight formica-orange latex, stands here with a raincaot-yellow clipboard monitoring the experiment.
There are some stairs here.
You may also abandon all hope.