The Cleansing Rooms

You try every method you can think of to pass through the door with your modesty intact- from hiding the clothes behind your back, to wearing them on your head like a turban. You are rejected by the door every time.

Frustrated, you throw the pile of clothes at the blasted barricade which insists you go au natural.

The light above the door fires a lazer that desintigrates the beautiful garments, turning them into nothing more than a pile of ash.

You collapse in a naked heap, defeated.