The distinctive whiff of putrefaction taints the musty air. It s as if a huge woolen shroud had been snatched from the crumbling confinement of a not-quite moldy grave and languidly shaken. With the fungal realm confined to memory, Alice must now face a new chemistry of chaos in this fetid milieu. Though mired in chaos and conflict, the Chess Village is a respite of sorts. Importuned by unctuous pawns and other obligated pieces, she seeks a royal audience to learn more about her quest.
Demented laughter resonates throughout and nearly conceals a chilling range of piteous screams.
When a mirror cracks, instantaneously unleashing its promise of monstrously bad luck, fun becomes a terribly relative term. No augury of ill fortune could foretell such frenzy. If your appetite runs toward raw, lethiferous terror, you are sure to be sated here. A diabolical chef, your host delights in preparing the bloodiest cuisine. Fortunately for him the table guests prefer to gorge on their meat raw, particularly when it s yours.