You look up into the sky. You canĀ see that it is no longer blue, but rather a color out of space... an APOCALYPTIC MAGENTA, to fit the new world and its new masters. There is no hope... there is only horror, and sorrow, and endless, unrelentingĀ MAGENTA.
Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches so many other lives. When he isn't around he leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?


