At it's simplest, it's a public bathroom. This is a fairly inaccurate mental image of the place, but it is a start. There's the sinks, around the bend are the stalls. And then there's another bend. More stalls. Sometimes another counterful of sinks. If you go far enough there are showers. Somewhere along the way you run into the first of who knows how many locker rooms. There is no end. Miles and miles of bathroom. Sometimes, it is clear this is not a well-tended bathroom. Moss grows on the walls. There are puddles on the floor, generally from spots where a toilet has split in half, or the sinks have been left to overflow. It's never filthy, just ill-kept. Usually the farther you go, the more moss, but this is not always true. Sometimes it starts at the beginning and gets worse. Sometimes everything is sparkling clean, no matter how far you travel. You are never alone. At times there seems to be a whole city in there with you, going about their lives, doing what needs doing, trundling along. Other times there are small groups seemingly living in isolated rooms. Regardless of the people, the snakes will keep you company. They are everywhere. Sometimes more, sometimes less, and occasionally you will find a room so full of snakes you cannot walk across it. If you ask, they will move, if a tad grudgingly. They glide through the maze, silent and if not friendly, then at least ambivalent. They come in all sizes, all breeds, and colors, many not entirely found in nature. You are always free to turn around and go back the way you came. No-one will stop you, and didn't you have something you needed to do, before you came in here to wash your hands?