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|Nondescript Room||Score: 0||Moves: 1|
"Hello there, Grue. Please do not eat me, I would like to be your friend."
The Grue looks at you thoughtfully, a small bit of drool dripping off its sharp fangs.
"Umm..." you say nervously, backing away a step, "good Grue... good Grue... "
This last sentence was a mistake, for the simple reason that a good Grue eats everything living in sight. What you wanted was a bad Grue, that thinks it's supposed to sing campfire songs.
The Grue rips you into 69,105 pieces, sending blood and chunks of flesh flying everywhere. It growls a little, then eats the pieces.
Except for your left pinky toe. A mouse ran away with that when the Grue was busy gnawing on the remains of your head.
It is safe to assume that...
It appears that the last blow was too much for you. I'm afraid that you are dead.
As you take your last breath, you feel relieved of your burdens. The feeling passes as you find yourself before the gates of Hell, where the spirits jeer at you and deny you entry. Your senses are disturbed. The objects in the dungeon appear indistinct, bleached of color, even unreal.
You appear to be made of a translucent floating white substance. There seems to be a golden halo hovering above your head.