Staring Down the Brown Tube
The lights in Hey are famously blue. First foot off the IN escalator is *that* row of a dozen or so Egrets on either side. They actually have a Kodak PhotoPoint(TM) standee there now, yellow greyed by the blue light, with a cutout for where experts say to point your camera. That’s actually true!
My Place, My Rules
The guy running P&P lives fussy, at his desk with his daily paper, ice tea just so. Everything’s covered in handwritten instructions: the Label Crazy Blast City I’ve posted before, the tiny washiki toilet with its triangular basin/cistern, and this old Astro, who’s been told what to do its whole life.
Fight, Sing
Teeth bared; talons out. But look at the posture of their right hands. Claws, but relaxed claws, ready to swoop at the attack buttons with quite a travel. Wouldn’t your response be quicker if you started nearer the buttons? It’s not that kind of reflexes. You play with rhythm, where the travel helps. Reflexes are to quickly change rhythm. If fighters were music games they’d be jazz duo jam sessions.