A middle aged man entered the corridor of the station, seeking thy holy ladder. His looks were those of someone you find smoking a joint in Luxury Liner Hawaii. His eyes were rapidly absorbing all the information that Pueblo offers at first glance. He was amused with everything he saw. But he didn't want to make the Episkopos impatient, so he forgot about the looks of the place for a moment and focused his pineal into the search for the ladder. After a hard headache and some too many teardrops from pressing the eyes too much, he managed to grab to the ladder and started climbing.
As he entered the room he thought it resembled a mother's womb, and felt the introspective ambient. It would do just fine for the job. He soon recognized the man playing with the fire as the Malaclypse he once briefly met, but always remembered. He couldnt help but feel moved and in a stupid voice he said:
Excuse me Sir, but I think there must be a misunderstanding, I am pretty sure I was the one who reserved this room.
He then smiled with an unlit cigarrete in his mouth while he took off his hat.
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