Good morrow, traveler. Ah, it appears your long and arduous journey has reached a most perilous fork in the road. Your only way forward is through one of these two doors.
One leads to freedom, the other certain death. But which to choose?
You may ask us a single question. Although, be warned. One guard always lies, the other always tells the truth.
Oh, and uh, this next part is unrelated to the door bit. Someone’s been spreading this totally unfounded rumor that I have a small penis. And I just want to assure you this is not true.
Now, choose wisely, dear traveler, for your ver—
No, as I said, my penis has nothing to do with the doors. Let’s not get stuck on this. Remember, your life hangs in the balance. I was only saying that if, during your time in the Village of Sorrow, you had spoken to, say, a vindictive Bal maiden or her twin sister, and they said I had an unusually small and odorous member, they are liars. My penis is a good size and smells of jasmine. Besides, most peasant women I have known biblically say the big ones hurt.