Michael Jackson: The Experience
Following a sidewalk that lights up square by square, along with everything you touch, you enter a world where everyone has rythym and crazy dance skills. Pursued through this space by very hip zombies and gang members who resolve their differences through interpretive "dance violence," you find your self in a "personal amusement park," but scaled up to make you feel the size of a child. You are lured by a charming little chimpanzee in people clothes into a regal bedroom where the walls are adorned by wood carvings depicting scenes from "Peter Pan." You climb atop a giant round bed with red velvet sheets and just as you are starting to doze off, a pixie-like man of uncertain ethnic extraction - in an enourmous fat suit - comes in and molests you, dangles you off the room's balcony, and finally sticks you in a hyperbaric chamber for storage until he wishes to use you again.
You are utterly horrified, but the bass line is hypnotic and irresistable.