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|Hannah Montana Concert||Score: ???||Moves: ???|
You try to sing but your voice sounds terrible. The fangirls get angry and slap you to death.
In your acid induced fantasy world maybe, but I am the boss here and the boss says you suck at singing.
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.