The phone rang three times in turn, one for Madeline, one for Monotony, and one for Pink, And the gods spoke to each of us in turn, though only a picture of Monotony remains. The messages were short, only a few words a piece. The revelations contained would shape us forever, illuminating the nature of san francisco, life, the universe, and everything, with truth, justice, and the liminal way. We would be changed from the experience, gaining new gnosis. We rode the busses home and saw the scenery for what it truly was, the people for who they truly were, watching out to see the tower looking down over us, perhaps beaming more god messages as we trundled homeward bound, holding the gift in our blood.