Casey, a timid figure in the dimly lit alleyway, is reduced to a quivering mess as the crowd closes in. Lordmajst, the orchestrating master, commands the first volunteer to relieve themselves on the trembling figure. The warm, pungent liquid cascades down Casey's face, hair, and clothes, leaving them degraded and soiled. The crowd, fueled by the spectacle, follows suit, their streams of urine painting Casey in a grotesque, humiliating masterpiece.