The ghost train to the nether world is no quiet place. Lost souls of the damned cry out for their beloved. It is unpleasant to hear and terrible to behold. And who is it, exactly, that our fellow passengers (in steerage of course) cry out for? Lost children? A husband? Or lover? No, no, no 1 million times no! They know they are bound, in more ways than one, on a journey to the dark father, The Penultimate One, and the thirsty degenerate energies simply cannot wait. Not one second more. And so they cry out. As if they are lost children themselves. By the way, it’s best you stay away from steerage. Just in case

SoundBow- infinite melody_2

Listen. Shut your cake hole and listen. In the distance we see the dark clouds of radioactive dust being picked up into the dark in the sky. What could cause such disturbance in the long dead more of the landscape of a dead and dying earth? Could it be the hoof beats of the Penultimate One’s Chariot War Pigs? Perhaps. Perhaps not. But we best not disappoint our Master. Gather up your THINGS. And order your THINGS  to butcher your finest Food Whores for the Master’s pleasure.

Johnny Guitarra