Trash music, puppet truth, and hot dogs you probably shouldn’t eat.
You wake up in an alley.
Something warm and steaming is resting on your chest.
WARNING: This music is technically illegal on three planets and fourteen independently habitated zones.
Audiences have described it as “haunting,” “an omen,” and “why I can’t go back to KFC,” which remains under ongoing federal investigation.
Meet Salvia: grotesque, desperate, and terrifyingly adored.
Her flesh is content. Her phone is holy. Her wrinkle winker reeks.
This is satire, but not by much.