but returing to the mist and fog, all that I see was nothing but a landscape only H.R. Geiger's darkest corners of his mind would run. All of them, friends, partners from long ago, all were parts of the land, molded with their fleshed flayed away and admist of it all was the massive construct of bone, cartilage, and scorned flesh. How funny that thousands of guardians entered the T.V. world, yet non lived to tell the tale.
