The paint remover would most likely be in the storage closet right. Well that's what you think as you turn the doors handle, realizing that its slightly stuck you give it a slight nudge with your shoulder. Good news is that it was more than enough force to open it, bad news it was way to much force. You go in tumbling over your feet.
Your momentum takes you past the door from and nearly crashes you into a pile of old books. Luckily you just mange to keep yourself from slamming into the pile. Upon closer inspection you realize that the books are written in some strange dialect, nothing you know but it looks familiar. but you forget all about them as you notice the size of the closet. Its more like a warehouse than a closet, with rows and rows of shelf's. You notice something that terrifies you, the main things on the shelf are buckets and buckets of paint. You stand awestruck, that is, until you are stuck from behind by someone...or something!