At first glance the high voltage box was nothing complicated: two long, wide electrical wires, with the key nudged in between them. Upon investigation, it was a trap. The moment you grabbed the key, it would serve as a bridge between you and the electrical wires.

Jenna realized that a split second before grabbing the key, and withdrew her hand at roughly the speed of light. Frightened, she clutched her hand within the other, squeezing it so hard with terror that one of her fingernails chipped.

"Shit!" She muttered, wincing slightly at the pain.

Jenna began to wonder how to work the key out from between the wires safely, but to no avail. She was perplexed.

(it takes something)

As far as she was concerned, this was it. Yes, there probably was a solution-

(it takes a very steady hand)

-but said solution probably involved some sort of advanced physics bullshit-

(don't touch the sides)

-and it was clear academics was not one of Jenna's strong points. So she would probably have to guess some farfetched theory and hope that it worked.

(BZZT butterfingers)

And suddenly Jenna knew.

Ben was growing impatient. His Silver Platter Kill to-be was taking longer then expected, and while he was enjoying himself, the excitement was halved by the pain of the device in his mouth.

It seemed to be a large metal object: a somewhat thin rod extending into his mouth, the rod secured by two rods circling around his head and connecting in the back, where there seemed to be an antenna. The device was rather ramshackle; the entire thing was connected unevenly and there were faulty wires jutting out of places. It would break if he pounded it hard enough against the cement wall, but probably not fast enough before Jigsaw would see him breaking The Rules and activate it, killing him.

So for now all Ben could do was wait.

And fantasize about the beep.

Jenna suddenly came to the realization that the Operation reference in the note was not a pun, but a clue.

In Operation, you removed things that caused harm to the patient with tweezers. Here, it had been replicated.

The objective here was to remove the key from in between the wires without being shocked, no different then removing – say, - butterflies from the stomach. The object you were trying to remove was not causing any electrical flow, but your tweezers were. In this case, the key could not allow the flow of electricity because it was wrapped in an extremely transparent rubber coating. But her hand could.

She grabbed the side of the key with the keyhole in it, the wider one, and began to pull gently. She was sweating again, and her hand was almost shaking, but it could not. She commanded her hand to be still. It would appear that when confronted with near-death situations, individuals have a higher control over their bodies. Soon enough, the key was standing upright between the wires, halfway out. With a bit more effort the key was free.

Triumphant, Jenna turned towards the camera.

"How do you like them butterfingers?" She gloated, dangling the key in the camera's direction.

Satisfied, she walked back towards the ramp and began to scale it.

It was much easier this time; she had applied her hands to the brick wall to her right for enough support. It was much less exerting then crawling on all fours.

She turned back, glancing down the ramp she had tripped down not too long ago. For one horrible second she felt a falling sensation, and then she was there, sliding down the ramp on her belly screaming as the fence came ever closer. The illusion released its hold on her as quickly as it came though, and with a deep breath, she was off.

The next room was strange; a lone hallway with a metal panel and a door not far from it. On the door was a note.

"Jennifer," The oh-so-familiar handwriting read, "The door to this room is unlocked by slipping a switch in the nearby fuse box. The fuse box has ten switches. Flip the wrong switch, and a jolt will be sent through it faster then you can move, killing you. Flip the correct switch, and the door is unlocked. To find the correct switch, you'll need to put your academic skills - for which you did favors to improve – to the test. The backside of this paper has a series of statements on it. Nine statements are false and one is correct. The corresponding number to the correct question is the number of the correct switch. Pick your pencil up, Jennifer, you may begin the test."

Pale faced and despaired Jenna slumped to the floor.

"I'm going to die," Jenna said matter-of-factly, and let out a loon laugh.