You chose to drink the beer on the right. You’re feeling good about your choice. This was a damn tasty brew. This has to be the one that leads to safety.
The Goblin Wizard raises his staff, and instantly you’re transported.
You breathe a sigh of relief, once you realize you’re not in a Vampire Lair, but on a snowy mountain top.
But wait, what was it that the Wizard had said, “Brief Safety.”
You stand up and slip, plummeting to your death. At least you had that great beer before you died.