In the Pinkbelly District there is an empty factory. A blackened cement cube half floating in a buckled sea of parking lot. No one knows what was made there, and no one knows anyone who worked there. It is currently owned with great distaste by the Easter Island Bank Trust. They are eager for any solicitations to buy the property. The only sticking point is that by prior agreement the price must include fifty gallons of ox blood.
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STRANGE SPANNERS being an accounting of strangeness of the warp and woof of my mind For those of you new here, think of this as 1/2 "Night Gallery" Our Motto: Nos somnium quisnam es futurus fatum quod insolitus tutus vos!
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