The walls are closing in
I'm in some sort of a room with four thick brick walls. It's deathly quiet and it smells as though someone with elephant halitosis has recently dumped a rancid armadillo in here or something. I'm trapped... there's no conveniently placed air vent or drainpipe for me to somehow cheat the laws of physics and escape via.
Oh no! What's that? The walls are moving! The... the... room is getting smaller. Oh, crumbs! What am I going to do? Will this be where it ends, where I finally meet my maker? There's so many things I have yet to achieve in life: beat a strange person at cards without resorting to diversionary/illegal tactics; prance with a kangaroo in the height of spring; complete a Rubik's cube; take a bath...
The room is getting smaller... the creaking, it's driving me insane. This must surely be... the end. *Cough* Becoming hard to breathe. Harder.... to... breathe... gasp!
- "Very well, Mr. Bond. Can we please use the door and get out of here now?"