You have been chosen, you are among the rare few, Winshluss invites you to take a tour in his famous Club de la Mort! Dig through your pocket, find your ticket, and dive into the labyrinth of this macabre funfair where terror competes with sarcasm. Guided through the attractions by the Grim Reaper herself, you’ll snicker together at the scenes she conjures before you, compiling the vanities and mediocre dreams of a humanity on borrowed time, obese and rotting… But it will be your own decaying face, crawling with maggots, that you’ll encounter at the turn of a corridor in the Hall of Mirrors!

You’ll find some comfort in knowing that your fellow ghost train passengers don’t look any better than you—Disney-esque avatars, B-movie puppets, survivors of a zombie film screened one night during a broken air-conditioning session in a Tijuana theater. But before you can exchange a few phalanges with them, you’ll be dragged by your friend to the roller coaster, where you’ll appreciate having neither heart nor stomach left.

To recover from your emotions, the great horror parade will show you, with “entomologist” precision, your fellow beings eating, living, and mating in a swarm of cockroaches. The Grim Reaper, who is little more than an insect exterminator, will reduce them to pulp for your sole amusement in a burst of splashes! All that will be left for you is to head with her to the refreshment stand where, over a glass of rat poison, you’ll watch the neon lights go out and the club doors close, happy to still have a mouth to laugh… and eyes to cry.