No one is looking at you, so you go for
A room behind that's marked "The Land of Nod".
A nude brunette lies sprawled across a sofa,
Eyes shut, and flaunting a stupendous bod.
"Are you awake..?" No sign. Not taking No for
An answer, miffed, you give the wench a prod.
No use. She's Mickey Finned - a knockout punch.
She's drugged. Doped. Zonked. Unconscious. Out to lunch.
You notice in her hand a crumpled note.
Intrigued, you slip it from her nerveless grip
And read: "I entered in my gleaming coat
Of self-esteem. But Hate soon came to strip
Me bare. The halter snapped shut round my throat.
My hands were tied. Remorse worked like a whip
Across my back, and I became a stranger
To everything I was. We're all in danger."
Danger? You need to learn what it's about.
Well, Sleeping Beauty knows. You'll have to wake her.
You slap her cheeks. You rub her breasts. You shout.
No joy. You try to lift her up and shake her.
She flops back limp and lolling, still spark out.
Can she be rescued? Must you now forsake her?
Absorbed, you fail to hear behind your back
The pad of footsteps. Thwock! The world goes