Before bed, like any simple-minded person did, you wrote a log in your diary so you can remember this wonderful day; you never know when you'll get that there amnesia again you know!
After having an awesome dream about space aliens that may or may not want to probe your supple behind, you are awoken by the banging of your door. My, who could THAT be?!
Soon realizing that it's not the lady next-door who wants to tuck you in proper-like, you begin getting the fuck out of there and jump out of the window. This is, of course, after you absolutely fail horribly and redo this part 20 times because the player is awful and can't do simple parkour stuff you saw on youtube in 2005.
After breaking through the place, running through an old lady's room who may or may not have been having a heated moment with herself and Rosey Palm, you jump out ANOTHER window and make up on onto a roof of a place filled with boxes that conveniently work in your favor to guide you through to safety. Fate smiles upon you finally, as you make it down the air vent and reach the anti-christ symbol on the vent.
Then you get smacked upside the head and are confronted with further hooligans who smell of rotted cabbage that wish to keep you from your determined goal of (G)TFO. After having another possibly drug-induced freak out, your mediocre psychic abilities tell you there is a convenient hole in the ground that is not guarded by the wandering pigmen.
That's right.
The wall needed their undivided attention and NOT the 'hole' in their defenses (if you laughed at that you shall slap yourself now).
After joining your rat brethren below the floor boards, you make it up into a nice locked room and the majority of the guards run off to find you elsewhere. Perfect timing!
You break out of the storehouse and move like Solid Snake through the alleyways and avoid their all-not-seeing-because-they-are-blind eyes until you hear the sound of someone imitating a stunt they probably saw on Jackass.
Walking into the tower-like structure you see a man lying on the floor, the life taken from him, as his friend calls him an uneducated sort and ignores his death for the rest of your good hearted chat. He tells you of the sewers and that it is filled with horrors not of this earth, but you do NOT care, as you are fucking AWESOME!
Mustering up even more amazing courage, you find a jalopy, at least you think it is a jalopy because automobiles are just a fad and you don't care to learn their names properly, and hop in the back as it rides down the street like a badass. The smelly assailants watch longingly as you sit in the back, the car rolling down the street at a stunning 3 miles an hour, the look of envious rage burning in their cornea as they wish they were as cool as you, or at least Bus Driver Guy.
After crashing and somehow not having a pipe skewered through you in the mess of wood and metal, you scurry like a rat around until you break into the sewer through the fan your ill-minded self keeps smashing into because it's just so god damn pretty and you needed to touch a spinning blade.
Upon entering, you get your boots wet and are met with a familiar, and awesome sight, of the long-lost Ramona Flowers.
Maybe now you two can start your art gallery together.
This article covers parts seven and eight.
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