Besides, there's just so much upkeep necessary on an endless pit of flames and terror. Protractors are cheap and almost as permanently traumatising.
Bob: Well, crap. We need to find a way past the river, since it's apparently completely impossible to wade through.
Jane: Not really a problem. We just need to walk outwards in an ever-expanding spiral until we find a bridge.
Xavius: We haven't really got time for exhaustive search algorithms.
Author: True. The comic could fracture at any moment.
Let's save a little time.
Fred: Okay, I guess we start right here.
Jane: Assuming that a bridge exists somewhere, we should reach the bridge within O(n)^n, or approximately seven million years.
Author: Rectangle! Ctrl-Shift-F! HSB adjust!
Narrator: Several rounds of spiralling later...
Bob: This is getting really boring.
Narrator: I know, right?
Fred: Let's just take a break.
Author: Ctrl-C Ctrl-Alt-V Shift-3 Ctrl-drag Ctrl-Alt-V Ctrl-drag Ctrl-Alt-V Ctrl-drag!
Jane: Who cares about that stupid river, anyway?
Bob: Yeah, we don't need to find a... bridge?
Fred: The spiral worked!
Author: Shift-drag! Ctrl-G! And... DRAG!
Xavius: Incredible! The author is such a powerful character! He is so awesome! Clearly he can do anything!
These lines are parodying the tendency for author-avatar characters to become Mary Sues - both of which, no doubt, the wonderful author will have linked in the TV Tropes references for this comic!
Jane: How fortunate that the broken bridge was repaired for no real reason just when it was necessary for the plot.
Fred: Broken bridge? There wasn't even a bridge here a moment ago!
Jane: It was a {{Lampshade Hanging}}. On the trope {{Broken Bridge}}.
Fred: Oh. Gotcha.
Xavius: So, back to silent observation, then?
Author: Yeah, pretty much. Nothing too bad's happening yet, so we just float around here and be humorous.
Bob: Oh, hey. More anachronistic sliding doors.
Fred: Do you think the author's actually realised that there was no electricity in Medieval times?
Bob: Oh, wow. Another completely grey boring room.
Fred: Personally, I think it's just due to Rule of Funny.
Jane: HELLO? ANYONE HERE?
Serena: Welcome to the Pit of Eternal Peril and Damnation!
Serena: Adventurers can get a seat for as little as 5000 gp, plus taxation, postage, handling, medical insurance, tips for attractive waitresses, resupply costs, deathtrap maintenance, and a variety of other small fees described only in extremely fine print. All payments must be made in advance.
Fred: Wow, what a great deal. Three adventurers here, please.
Serena: Thank you for your patronage. Right this way, past the Corridor of Pain, Pointy Objects, And That Thing They Do With A Protractor.
Bob: A protractor? It doesn't really fit the "fire and brimstone hell" theme this place has. Perhaps a red-hot brazier would be more effective? Or an endless pit of flames and terror?
Serena: You haven't actually realised *what* they do with the protractor, sir.
Bob: Oh. Sounds... unpleasant. Well done scarring my mind's eye for all eternity.
The best strategy is to deliberately not avoid tropes and then, in retrospect, pay attention to said tropes. Putting a trope in just so you can lampshade it tends to come off as forced.
But then again, I've never published anything on the internet, so what do I know?