“Michael Bowman hereby owns this little Spanish villa on a hilla and may do anything that he wishes to do with it including putting in a larger chimney for Santa, an ice floor for the skaters, and a sensual, sexy, steamy sex room for the neighbors. You must pay Michael Bowman a million dollars for these necessary installations in this little Spanish villa on a hilla, for if he does not, the place will be less cool than if he hadn’t done it. Don’t forget to dig out the back yard to make a spot for the full-sized pirate ship replica boat you must put in a large lake. The lake will be the back yard now. You must meet all of my demands by 6:00 pm Sunday or else you will meet your death. Signed, Tavia Morra”
Tavia is half asleep and just asked me to take a dictation for her. I guess we’ll just have to meet her demands.
And so we leave a desperate man and his dying daughter huddled in the back of the derelict ruins of an abandoned grocery store in the middle of a dead city, in a dying world where it snows in the summer.
And that…that about sets the tone for the rest of NIER