"Well then. That's good to know."

With a sound not unlike that of the shifting of tectonic plates, the doctor clears his throat. "We should probably continue on our way before anything particularly dangerous grows a thousand times larger - thank you for that, Stonum - and decides that we would make a good meal. I mean, for your sake. I'm a rock. Nothing is going to try to eat me."

"There could be some money in that stuff for the male enhancement market."

For lack of any other compelling destination, the five set out for the building building on the horizon that sort of looks like a fist maybe a little but probably not. After a sleepless night, being caught out in the rain, and a near-death encounter with several plummeting oversized sky mantas they are largely in a foul mood.

Eschewing the highway as much as possible to minimize the risk of another elf encounter, they travel about 2.5 kilos before emerging into an area that looks much more legitimately urban than the wild trees and manly houses of Fairfax Drive. Large buildings on their left block the line of sight to the (arguably) fistlike landmark, and they pause at an intersection to get their bearings again.

On the northwest side of the intersection is a small cluster of Ancient storefronts, all sharing a single ungainly beige building: AT&TDS, The AMC Store, So Many Birds, Scrape Master, Bundespost Telekom, Treadmill Warehouse, Super International Liquor World, Jumble Juice, and the entirely too obvious Safe Way. In the northeast corner of that lot a few of the metal Bobcats are clustered around a big patch of bare dirt, perhaps some kind of excavation.

On the southwest side of the intersection stands a single massive building, its sides redolent with thousands of panes of black-tinted glass. The long shadow of the Friendly Eye, Face, and Dental Implant Centre looms darkly over the travelers.

On the southeast side of the intersection is a friendly-looking structure with a gabled roof, painted in garish (if now faded) shades of lime green and rose. "Hacienda", offers the plastic sign near the sidewalk, sporting a cartoon dog in an oversized hat to leer at passersby. "Me gustaría tener un hacienda!", the speech bubble adds.

The structure on the northeast side simply calls itself "Cocomo", which is obvious nonsense, but the metal boxes standing in little rows are a dead giveaway to Cocomo's nature. This... was a gas station. And the truck was... 3 kilometers behind them. But there are literally dozens of abandoned identical-looking little cars sitting around the intersection! Resplendent in shades of grey, and white, and darker grey, and cream, and taupe... More or less abandoned, anyway. What's the odd skeleton between friends.

A small blue sign demands BUS STOP, but it is clear that the bus, whatever it might be, went merrily on its way rather than remain here.