Onion Madder

You wake up in a tangle of wires, clutching a mysterious cassette labeled "Muffin-in-a-Bag's Greatest Hits".

The room is dark, except for the glowing pink eyes of the cat-shaped keyboard watching you from a shelf. There's a smell of leaded solder in the air.

In the corner, a hacked Whac-A-Mole game chatters at demonic pitches, possibly in Morse code, possibly in regret.