The Baroness will see you now. Do not stare at the furniture. It reacts.

Your “enhancement elixirs” have turned my wife into a woman of… unprecedented frontage! She can’t fit through the door!

Wait! The curse amplifies insecurity . What if we… don’t fight it? What if we accept the thing we’re ashamed of?

INT. MANOR - KITCHEN - NIGHT A janitor (unseen until now) opens a refrigerator. Inside: the Heart of Amplification —now the size of a golf ball—sits in an egg cup. It pulses once. The janitor’s pants suddenly become comically, absurdly tight in the seat. He looks at the camera, sighs, and says: “Not again.”

You didn’t destroy it. You healed it. The curse is broken. Thank you, Professor Pingleton.

A bumbling, cash-strapped historian is hired to authenticate the antiques of a reclusive, eccentric widow at a remote Gothic manor, only to discover that the house’s bizarre, curvaceous architecture is a living curse that amplifies the physical features—and the raging libidos—of everyone inside, leading to a night of supernatural slapstick and absurdly dangerous physics.