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You find yourself standing in front of a giant glass cube, covering the whole area and crushing what looks like it used to be a botanical garden of some sort. You can see the finish line in the the cube, but try as you might, you cant get the door to open.

After screaming and tossing glass based insults to the cube such as "Your mother was a rectal thermometer" and "I hope a bird dive-bombs your face," that disembodied voice gets in your mind again!

Since I’m trying to be a country music super star, I figured I needed to try something else country. I’m talking about rodeo clowns. They seemed so cool, standing there in those funny costumes and running around, trying to get raging bulls to attack them. I could do that. I went to the running of the bulls in Spain with Grandma Mavis six times (of course, I was too chicken to ever join in) so I knew a thing or two about getting away from angry bulls.

And I was still a clown, even if I had given up practicing the trade. I called up the Rodeo Clowns Union of America to inquire about beginning my career as a rodeo clown, but all I got was the runaround. So, I traveled to Texas and spoke directly to a RCUA representative. I came in my clown suit and full makeup and he burst out laughing as I made a balloon cattle prod. He told me I’d have as much of a chance at being a rodeo clown as he’d have of winning a Miss America pageant. (I was itching to tell him he had the legs for it, but he was as big as a house and had more muscles than a seafood restaurant.)

Well, I was tired of being laughed at, so I stormed out of his office (which would have been more dramatic if I hadn’t tripped over a chair and landed on a potted cactus) and headed out to realize my new dream of being a rodeo clown.

First, I set out to rent any movies I could find that had rodeo clowns in them. Unfortunately, the only film I could find that even mentioned rodeo clowns was a movie called Shakes the Clown. I brought it back to my hotel room for a three day research binge, which consisted of me watching the parts that mentioned rodeo clowns over and over. It really didn’t teach me anything about rodeo clowns, but it was fun, especially after a few beers.

After that, I went to bother some bulls. I picked a small closed in field with a bull and dug under the electric fence keeping him in. I walked over, but he didn’t even notice. So, I held up some pictures of steaks and homemade signs that said “Bulls Suck”, but he still ignored me completely. I shouted “Your mama was a buffalo” and that sort of got his attention, so I rushed towards him, waving one of my signs and shouting bullish insults.

The voice is starting to get on your nerves. Thankfully another comes over a loud speaker perched on top of the cube and drowns the other one out. "To reach the end, you must first tell me the year the Glass-Steagall Act was passed."