Okay, so you look around and dance AND sing.
You look around, and find that the flowers in the garden have disappeared; only grass remains. In the place where the shack sat, a large hall appears. You try to look harder, but there is only grass and grass and grass.
You dance around, and your pieces of armour are banging with each other, making loud clapping sounds.
You sing in joy, and the noise is so unbearable that a pack of wasps, which are as large as your palm, is coming at you.
>Hit a wasp with a vertical chop.
>Do a horizontal cleave.
>Stand firm and admire the beauty of the wasps.
>Kick the wasps.