I was living in some house on the street on which I grew up, with two housemates. it was not my mom's house, and we were renting it from some guy named McGowan. one of my housemates was Art, who had recently moved in.

it was late at night and three drunk people from a couple houses down - that was a Death Guild house - came by. they were all women, and they were really mad at McGowan. "we'll get you" they declared loudly in slurred voices. to my horror, they produced like a gallon of tequila and dumped it on my lawn. they were about to light it on fire when I came out to talk to them.

they were initially unfriendly, but it's not hard even with unfriendly drunk strangers to get them to talk to you. turned out they thought mcGowan had moved back into his house, they thought it was Art. the Death Guild house was also rented from him, and they hated him.

I dissuaded them from their plan to light our lawn on fire, and they brought me back to their house. I expected it to be run down and trashed, and was quite surprised when they invited me in. first of all, it was very big. they had excavated a basement floor underneath it, and there was a second floor up above. it was also very neat and tidy and white.

perhaps the most surprising of all was that there were a lot of kids. they were playing in the basement floor and shrieking and happy. I ended up being given the nickel tour by a biker guy who was the John O / Alex Borders phenotype. we got to the head of the stairs leading down, and there was also a ladderly-like construction one could climb down. he cautioned me to use the stairs, and when I looked, the three 2x4's above the bottom rung were broken. the wall against which it was built was blue.

that's about all.