Propman was getting tired of the stench of oni blood. He thought of his current options; move towards the path of open doors that he got a brief glance at, possibly moving him towards a pack of hostile foes that could kill a man over ten times his size, or move through a small paper door he had discovered, possibly leading him into a pack of hostiles that could kill a man his size. He fingered through the bottles and sniffed them; most of them reeked of alcohol, and not the sort of alcohol he'd want to do anything with other then burn as a heat source; After all, only a fool would drink themselves during such a perilous situation, he reasoned. He grabbed one of the bottles nevertheless, and hefted it like he would a grenade.
"Hope you don't mind, mate."
The dead oni lifelessly gazed at him, though one could interpenetrate it as staring at a mad man that would talk to a corpse.
Propman threw the bottle at the door, which caused it to dent and deform. He tossed another, and another, and another, until the door flew off of its frame and revealed the confines from behind it.
Imagine the average public restroom of a gas station, with all the cheerful little graffiti and the sinks that have long since rusted over beyond use. Now, imagine if said public restroom also had zero ventilation, was filthy enough that moss grew on it in spite of the fact that it was potentially hundreds of feet bellow the earth, and had what Propman could only presume to be a corpse stuffed into the commode. What Propman saw was a sight so revolting in both sight and scent, that he nearly fainted on the spot, the smell overpowering even the stench of the dead oni as it caused him to gag and cough as though he had asthma. He tried to get a hold of himself as tears welled and dropped from his eyes as though they were subject to being punched.
Taking the side of his greatcoat and applying it over his mouth and nose, Propman attempted to advance, but was stopped when a sound started to emanate from within the toilet.
"Pa-Pa-Pa-Paper, please!"
A disembodied hand lurched from the outward edges of the disgusting contraption's seat, gripping in the pirate's general direction, as if beckoning him.