[@Eviledd1984]

His type-writer is stocked with another note, but... The dried ink ribbon had been replaced for a newer, fresher form of writing fluid. A bad-smelling substance, seemingly a thin strip of flesh, now drapes the spools where an ink ribbon would have been, the old, dry ribbon apparently having been torn out by a frustrated creature and tossed to the floor. Blood on the paper and the key stamps, the note reads in swollen, red letters, marked by slight drips and small bits of dislodged meat,

"[s]M[/s]CAERBOG'S PATIENCE [s]IS[/s] WEARS THIN"

[@Aeonspiral]
As she exits through the front door, she'll find there isn't too much outside but desert as far as the eye can see. The sun is hot and bright red, even though it seems to be high noon, painting the sky all sorts of fiery colors. Terra-cotta buildings can be seen here and there in the distance. Luckily, she can travel by lawn (Or sand?) mower rather than tiring herself out walking there. The grotesque cockney in there probably won't miss it.