Imagine entering a house with an endless series of doors and corridors. Behind some of those doors are the most delightful things imaginable: feasts straight out of Redwall, unicorns, an endless supply of scenic vistas, and unionized workplaces. Behind other doors, however, are grotesque and terrifying jack-in-the-boxes that pop up the minute you crack the door open, blasting up to fill the entire frame, dangling lasciviously on rusty springs as a creaky, vaguely circus-themed song plays….