Fortuitously Pim and Bim had just initiated a publishing concern, and were thrilled at the prospect of meeting an author.

The Well-Dressed Albatross completed his epic poem, which explained the universe and everything else. No longer able to fly he sought a publisher by train, settling into a lounge car populated by men engrossed in continental newspapers.

Once fitted with albatross wings, Mrs. Love launched Mr. Love Icaruslike towards the sun. Unlike Icarus, the wings held firm and commingled him with a flight of dark angels, whose stories were not so different from his own.

To escape Mr. Love, Mr. Love Jr. had moved to Quanahuac and bought the Teatro Morelos. Arriving into a pandemic that prevented him from ordering new films, he was forced–night after night–to screen the only film the theatre owned: the wretched ‘Las Manos de Orlac.’

Now that he had fingers and a typewriter, the Well-Dressed Albatross installed himself at a sidewalk cantina outside the Teatro Morelos in Quanahuac. The words flowed even more easily than the Mezcal, inclining him to thank the muse of epic poetry as he typed.

After surgery the Well-Dressed Albatross acquired a typewriter. To the Well-Dressed Albatross the seller resembled an old acquaintance, as did the Well-Dressed Albatross to the seller. But it had been so long that neither the Well-Dressed Albatross nor the seller could be certain.

Wingless, the Well-Dressed Albatross wandered, he knew not whither, until he happened upon Ukifune.

Moments after Brad had made his first incisions on Mr. Love, Ukifune joined him in the operating theatre.

Mrs. Love explained to Brad that she needed someone to perform surgery. When Brad mentioned that he had no medical training whatsoever Mrs. Love replied that that wouldn’t be a problem for a clever young man like himself.

Earlier that day Brad had answered a job posting and was summoned to an immediate interview. A different foreign student might have been suspicious that the area was not only desolate but surrounded by police tape.