You came to hang ten and chat with a legendary surf dude, but now you're locked in with a guy who smells like seaweed and talks to his surfboard. cowabunga, right? some prankster has shut the door, and unless you want to spend eternity listening to stories about the great wave of '92, you better find all 12 sniffmouse icons and bail outta here like a rogue wave’s chasing you. grab your flip-flops, channel your inner escape artist, and remember: no one escapes a surfer’s shack without getting a little gnarly. escape or wipe out—your call
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