As the sun rose over the Calla, the Folken began to wonder - was it really safe to live in the countryside, miles from anywhere, countless places for psychopaths to be lurking in the shadows? Red shirts had become less and less popular in the stores these days.
Sadly, the owners of the last two red shirts in town now lay, cold as the ground upon which they had fell. Alkanto and Ricky, victims of the Big Bad. The Folken gathered their pitchforks and readied their flaming torches...I love the smell of a lynching in the morning!
Daytime!