Trilby has underestimated the sheer girth of the pile of horse phalluses, which spans an area wide enough to engulf the island nation of Australia. Everyone in the pile is lit a fire, and burns horrifically. The brothel's exterior is lit ablaze.
I tredge through the flaming pile, struggling to escape the phalluses to the side. I grip the spear head tightly, and as I approach Salt, I ram the point of the spear through his right ear. I twist my weapon, pulling out and again penetrating his left ear. I watch with satisfaction as his brain leaks from his right side, then gently prod his chest. I watch as he falls into the pile, his corpse lost to the pure display of strength.
Amidst the phalluses, a mighty throne rises, pitched from the depths of what can only be Hell itself. I approach the throne, exhausted and in pain. I fall into it, and let the flames engulf me.
"You keep what you kill."
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