The sounds of sirens fill the air, rising in intensity. It's from the tower down the track. We hear two or maybe three race towards us. The wails stop. They are outside. A crash of cheap plywood. Membership fees will increase again for another new door. "Jazzer drop your axe, it's Jazz Police!" "Stupid twit, the Tower of Song is back there and besides he has a permit for that axe." "Where did all these penguins come from? Why don't they have any eyes?" "They're gay zombie were-penguins, don't you know anything copper?" "We got a create-alarm. No one is posting real craft, you're all in here plugging up that poor editor's thread." The frogs look over the edge of the box, their eyes glow red from the dark corner. "Now break it up, nothing to see, get back to your typewriters, it's all over, we're leaving. And someone get that begonia away from me." And someone will continue, I just know this will become the longest thread known to (wo)mankind.... And I am sorry for not cleaning up this mess? Not a chance