The path has been long, and you are weary. You come to a stop in front of a strange place. In front of you stand three doors, with three guardians to match. The first, promises beauty. The second, promises comfort. The third, promises kinship. But avert your eyes, traveler, and stay your feet. These seducers speak with forked tongues and closed grins. Behind all three doors - abysmal dogshit.