Snake: "You know, like they do in all the RPGs! I'll be a Level 4 Mage, Natasha is a Level 8 Paladin, and Doc is an NPC Cleric! C'mon, those Zambonis outside are worth 243 XP and 12312 GP each! LIGHTNING BOLT!!!"

Yeah, right. Dr. "I'm stuck in an unguarded room and my only recourse is to tap on the walls until someone comes along, hears me, and navigates a path of deadly Zambonis" managed to steal a card from a guard. What guard? There's no guards around!

Natasha and Petrovich follow Snake like a game of... well, "Snake". Petrovich refuses to take his hands out of his pockets because he thinks it makes him look slick.

Use your motley crue of Eastern Europeans to navigate east past the death machines to find a brown hallway! Hooray!

Uh oh! Brown liquid? This is pretty gross. Hopefully it'll be over soon.

Nope, there's screens of it! Lovely.

Snake: "Look, I don't know what shithole sewer you live in back in Mother Russia, but I am not resting in a pool of brown God-knows-what."

Also, Petrovich had plenty of time to rest in his cell, and we've only walked like ten screens. Whatta wuss!

Er... what? I'd like to say that this is neither the time, nor the place, but I did ride an elevator from a women's restroom, so we might as well ride this fucked-up train as long as it will take us.

"Natural desire." This game is fucking wrong.

Snake and Natasha wisely sit down near the muck, and the game decides that the next dramatic conversation requires you to see their faces.

Snake: "Oh sorry, I randomly interjected something that has nothing to do with the conversation, and doesn't follow logically with anything you said before it."

Natasha: "We're strange. People strange. It remind me of Doors song."