riding on their black horses through the meadowland of prospect park. thunderous trumpets, the resounding echo of brass. the huntsman, that distillate of the chasse artu, rises a crooked finger & there they stop, to sit & stare at the kites drifting on lazy curtains of wind. they've come today to see the strongest chinese railroad worker fight old john henry. my goodess this will be a show to remember. the crowd gathers from all over! why, baba yaga & kotschie are fighting over who gets to sit on the picnic blanket! & even the batrachomyomachia has had a truce called for the event. mister toad & the rat king are there holding hands & collecting daisies! but nobody is going to save your soul, you fucking homunculus. reserve your tickets in advance.