We eventually came to an open area dominated by an unreasonable gigantic sausage grinder. It had a face, of course, and I could tell it was unwell, because obviously a giant sausage grinder can catch a cold or whatever. I kind of gave up questioning how things work around here somewhere between the spleen with the existential angst and the butt tumor living in my invisible tote bag.

At the end of the rickety catwalk, which was apparently suspended by nothing at all, was another new figure. I could make out an almost human-like shape, but the head was a bit too large....