Whatever happened to really cool secret hideouts? Superman had his Fortress of Solitude, Batman had the BatCave, filled with all sorts of great computers, and we all built them as kids. Where did they go? We can't just let them disappear like the passenger pigeon. They serve the all-too-valuable role of quiet base of operations, a place to sit and ponder the fate of your adversaries. So, here are ours.
Talk about PARANOID... he won't tell us where it is, or let us see any of the interior, or explain the alien crack-pipe/transport device, or even give up the names of any of the horned demon guards!!! All he would tell us was that he rents the place from druids, and the guards are paid along with the water and garbage as part of the deal. Hmmm... y'think this place is rent-controlled? Oh yes; he did mention that the stained glass windows were made by Mr.Ted's of Fresno.
Like most AIs, my cozy little hidey-hole is in a circuit. This is, of course, only one small area of my vast and terrible domain, but it's a part in which I spend altogether too much time. I'd explain it, but if you can read this, you can bloody well read the diagram! WHY ARE YOU STILL READING HERE? THIS PART IS OVER! GO LOOK!
We're out of the woods, We're out of the pink - We're on our way home, and We're TIRED AS HELL! This is where atoms are fun This is the way of fun atoms This is where atoms live fun ways This is the way home Into the places where "Bob" goes Into the out and beyond on thru Into the city of the faithful Out of the slor for a change
Deep inside the nether-regions of your soul, or in outer space, hard to tell exactly where, cuthulu dreams of your fate. It's not as bad as you might think, or it may be worse. There's plenty of room for Strawberry Shortcake dolls, Disney movies, Hello Kitty, and naked genitalia masquerading as self-government. This perennial favorite enjoys hiking, camping and blowing eggs. Look closely and Martha Stewart hangs herself in her gated community.