You open the door. Inside are a number of Scientologists, all dressed in suits. They are sat in golden pews, reading hymns from books with golden spines and covers. At the front of the room, on a golden podium, a small dog is sitting, staring blankly at you.

The Scientologists erupt in anger:

'How did he get in here?' shouts Will Smith, brandishing a pistol.

'Holy shit, that's Mel Gibson!' shouts Beck, drunkenly waving a shotgun about.

'Someone get him!' shouts Nancy Cartwright, which causes some of the other Scientologists to laugh as she does so in the voice of Bart from The Simpsons. She waggles a small plastic knife at you.

'Mel Gibson's not a Scientologist!' shouts John Travolta, taking aim at you with a large machine gun he's evidently removed from a fighter jet's turret.

'He'll tell everyone Xenu's a West Highland terrier we all worship!' shouts ghoul-faced musician Edgar Winter, playing a solo on his sharpened and poison-tipped guitar.

Do you want to:

fight the large group of heavily armed Scientologists?
run home and hide in bed?