You work at SoulStorm Brewery, correction, your a slave at SoulStorm Brewery. You are a Mudokon, a slave race. You and many others suffer heavily. You make a concoction called SoulStorm Brew, meant for slaves. It’s addicting and only slave factories provide it. It’s meant to make escaped Mudokons suffer mass withdrawal to come crawling back begging for more, otherwise, they die.

the process of making brew is also horrible. Mudokon bones and tears are used in the concoction. Unfortunately for you, you’re inside a tear extractor, that’s your job. Your eyes get electrocuted as the tears are gathered.

All of this is run by the Brewmistress, a Glukkon shut-in. Due to her Glukkon physiology, she’s depicted as her legs shriveled up, having to use her arms as legs. She wears a white doctor outfit with a watch on her chest to tell the time. Her main focus isn’t about keeping slaves in line, rather just the flavor of her brew. She cares not of your or any other slave’s condition, just about the quality of her brew.

Your tears are being extracted. For hours, you’ve been electrocuted on end as a fellow Mudokon slave unwillingly electrocutes you. Suddenly she stops and you take a breather. You notice her and the Brewmistress talking. She shouts in her French accent.

“Hey! How are we doing on tears!?”

Mudokon slave: “twenty gallons an hour, boss…”

“Whaaat? That is not near enough, how are we going to get that deep rich flavour? The SMOOTH, without being BITTER! You might as well take out their BONES!”

Mudokon slave: “(sobbing) It ain't my fault boss, we keep running outta mudokons, they keep dying…”

“I don't need excuses, I...NEED...TEARS! TURN UP THE GAUGE, DO IT!!!”