Down at Nacho Town, They Will All Be Slaughtered
I knew I would find love and happiness at Nacho Town. Always have. When they started building it, the whole place just felt right. It was a strange kismet of emotion. Sometimes you just know when something good is going to happen. Nacho Town just had that feel to it -- in all of its plastic yellow and red, oily glory.
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Fiction by Mark Whittaker
Illustrations by Palmer Saylor
It was one of those miracle days you know. There were no clouds messing up the perfect blue sky. It was the kind of day where you could just stick your hand out of the window, make a finger like a perch and have a jay of some kind come by and sit on it as you sing a merry little tune together. I tried that, but all I got was a gentle breeze.