"What do you lunatics want?" Harry yelled as the blindfold was finally pulled from his eyes. "I'm telling you I…" the words died in his throat as he saw where they had brought him. The immense cavern seemed to have been gouged out of the rock. No, not gouged, clawed. The flickering torches only occasionally illuminated its furthest recesses, but Harry could glimpse the odd reflection from a great body of water in front of him. "What is this?" his anger was now tempered by a touch of fear. There was something uncanny about this subterranean grotto. Uncanny, yet… familiar? "It is your birthright, Mr Gilmore." Harry could not tell which of the cowled figures had spoken. It was as if the words had come from all twelve of them at the same time. One of the group stepped forward and took a torch from its stand. He carried it towards one of the cavern walls, revealing a number of curtained portraits. A bolt of fear ran though Harry. Somehow, he knew that whatever those curtains concealed could shatter his sanity. The figure pulled a silk rope and the first picture was revealed. Then the second, third and so on until ten pictures could been seen in the torchlight. Ten pictures from various ages, stretching back into antiquity. Ten pictures all with Harry's face. "So you see, Mr Gilmore, you only ever had one choice." The figures seemed to swim in Harry's vision. "Wh... what choice?" "Would you like your membership form as HTML or a PDF?" The last thing Harry heard before the merciful blackness engulfed him was a chilling "Cheques made payable to Convivial, thanks."