[Visual| The Clock Shop - Speares]

[smecker.livejournal.com]

"Goooood morning, fellow inmates."

Paul tap-taps the little screen, exhales cigarette smoke towards it. He thinks he's got the right settings for 'city-wide broadcast' but only experimenting will tell.

"There's still, what, a fucking foot of snow on some of the sidewalks? Just the right conditions to go shopping."

The view of his face vanishes as he reaches for the tablet, hand briefly covering the screen until he shifts his grip and pans the device to show off the shop some people may still know as Theta's. There are many shelves, all of them full of clockworks.

"You'd better, because this is a commercial. Once upon a time a woman named Theta hired me to cook and clean, and then vanished, leaving her shop and merchandise behind. It's all still here pretty much, as you can see.

"I don't want it. In fact, I could use the space for other things. Also, the little fuckers are a pain to dust. So here's the deal: if you can get yourself off your asses and out into the snow, I'll be giving these charming little examples of weird science away at severe discounts. Seriously, bring me a cup of coffee that doesn't taste of recycled snot and you might get one for free.

"Anybody needing directions, you take the green line north into Speares, fourth stop, the one with the town-square style clock visible from the tram. I'm the appliance repair building right next to said clock. Come on down. Maybe there will be donuts. Everyone likes donuts. Except communists. Paul Smecker out."