I was eating lunch with my co-workers in a place I’d never been to. When the server came with the check, I realized that I was nude. Embarrassed, I looked to see if anyone else was — no. On the positive side, no one seemed to have noticed my state.

As I was walking around an underground stone chamber that looked like something out of the original Star Trek, a young woman stopped me and rubbed a balloon over my head. For a while, I was mesmerized by the strangeness of this action and wondered what it signified.

Suddenly, it occurred to me that I was being distracted from my purse and wallet. I felt for them; I still had them, I thought, but they seemed to have gotten farther away. “You’ve sold your soul to the devil!” I screamed at the girl, who looked innocent enough.

The next thing I knew, someone was cackling and leading me out of the Star Trek-style stone chamber and into another. At first, I felt claustrophobic under its low ceiling and in its confines. As it dawned on me that these horrible chambers took up infinity and there was nowhere else to go, I realized that I had landed in Hell.

And I panicked.