You've been goofing off around here for a good while now, maybe you should think about getting to your great uncle's. Things are starting to get a little weird around here anyway. You tell Limahl that you want to get to the read of your great uncle's will as soon as possible.

"Oh, that's no problem, kiddo. Just grab those ankles and prepare to fly!"

You start to object, but Limahl puts a finger on your lips and says, "hush hush". He points over your shoulder, and you turn to look. Behind you is a very confused lawyer trying to figure out how you suddenly appeared before him. You turn around again, expecting to see Limahl, but all you see are a bunch of scared relatives of yours. You turn around again to face the lawyer, pausing for a moment to recover from nausea before introducing yourself. The lawyer's slackened jaw snaps up quickly as he realizes who you are.

He introduces himself as Pendleton Queez, licensed attorney and executor of your great uncle's estate. Looks like things may work out after all. Granted, you're still in the clothes you were wearing when you rolled out of bed this morning, but that's small potatoes, all things considered.

You sit amongst your grieving relatives and listen as ol' Queezy reads off your great uncle's last will and testament:

"My dear friends. If you are reading this, then I am dead. If you are being read this, then I remembered to get a lawyer before I died, but am still dead all the same. I know you all cared deeply for me, and though I cannot remember any of your faces or your names, I assure you the feeling is mutual. That is why I have gathered you all to hear my last wishes.

I've amassed a considerable fortune in my years as a renowned psychoanalyst/mad scientist, and I have many considerable assets, including the world's largest collection of Native American tombstones, which I keep at my amusement park/abandoned farm/defunct mental asylum. I leave behind all of these things for my relatives, under one condition...

Anyone who wishes to claim any part of my vast estate must spend a single night right here, in my mansion. My ex always claimed it was haunted, but I think she was just angry that I included the mansion in our pre-nup, which by the way is yet another 'thank you' for Mr. Queez. Anyway, Mr. Queez will be staying overnight as well to make sure none of you interested decide to bail out early. My fortune is to be divided evenly among those who spend an entire night here. That is all."

Great. A sleepover at your dead great uncle's house. You can hardly wait.

On the bright side, you were able to guess which animal Mr. Queez was thinking of, so you get first dibs on which room of the house you want as your bedroom.

You choose:

• The Master Bedroom.
  
  
• The Servant's Quarters.
  
  
• The Living Room.
  
  
• The Dark Room in the Basement with the Bloody Handprints on the Ceiling and the Words "Help Me" Written in Ash from a Cremated Body.