Last night however -- and one can not be sure what caused this thought train to leave its tracks -- there was a sense of foreboding evil lingering about the luminescent paradise. Ly, Hono'o-chan, and myself were not aware of it at first. Perhaps it was the oddly-placed globe-shaped fountain in the middle of the park in front of 6750, or maybe it was the old woman selling cigarettes perched on the stairs near Mercury Drug. But the moment we saw the first few fireworks go off in the middle of the deepening dark December evening sky, we heard it. Cries for freedom and a multitude of tiny voices screaming for release!
Had we a camera with us, the grim scene would have looked like this:
Suddenly, the globe-shaped fountain was no longer what it was. The glow from inside was actually an imprisoned faerie, desperately clinging for dear life! The old woman was no longer a common cigarette vendor, but a fairy matriarch, miserably watching her kin die from the evil machinations constructed by greedy corporations! The security guards were no longer actual human beings, but animated corpses controlled by talismans hidden amongst their bodies, enchanted by witches and warlocks from their secret base in the underground parking lots!
Ayala was no longer a Christmas paradise. It was a carefully-constructed and elaborate faerie torture chamber, disguised as malls and parks and the second happiest place on earth! Any faerie who survives the fireworks death trap is completely eliminated by specially-trained snipers, their magickal essence added to the breeding of other faeries and pixies, or sometimes bottled and sold in Rustan's as beauty products! Oh, the humanity!
