the mad scientist’s forbidden underground laboratory
A juggling symphony of artless rhythm ripped through stereo speakers mounted to cream cheese walls. With an orange paintbrush and a bottomless supply of semi-radioactive ink, the deranged surgeon attacked the innocuous canvas without refrain. The footstool creaking beneath his mangled toes was a speckled, beautiful mess. The floor beneath his footstool resembled the inside of a handkerchief after a magnificent sneeze. The room was a habitat for creation; a grotesquely exquisite reunion of forgotten colors.
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