Elizabeth drove on the straight edge of the ruler that is law, that is, until she officially entered Homer Park town limits. Of course, that madman on the hill, who most everyone one pretends not to know, continues to insist that he remained in town. " I don't know about your damn statutes. My house was here long before the tides shifted and Gods among men became damned," proclaimed the insurgent who had no need of a megaphone that day or ever. His place was burning as they passed it on the way; people liked to set fire to that house but it was always that it's wood ate the fire and not the other way around. A madman sitting in a burning house, but madder still are those who set fire to that accursed place.

On coming into town Elizabeth no longer paid heed to stop signs or street lights, as they were never their, but to the wisdom gained from confronting death each time she started up the death machines known as cars. Surprisingly, at least for some, there was no incident of note besides the visage of a woman chasing a snake, toting her twin blades, challenging high heels her husband had bought as part of a matching outfit to impress the guys at work. She stabbed the reptile with the blades that retract when in contact with a squishy substance. Homer Park denizens have no unnatural phobias like a fear of snakes or spiders; no, they have proper ones like the ruin a man may bring to the world by attempting to rise above his station, using for instance, his wife's generous endowment to a totally legitimate charity.

"We're here," Elizabeth said, relating their new relative position to the apartment. The parking was quite unusual. Nearing the building it was probable that no space was available, on second look one space was available, and after exiting the vehicle, looking away, the car was gone. That's what it means to park in Homer Park. Knowing that there was a skyscraper in such a small town is one thing, seeing it from afar another, but entering it like walking out of a dream and into another dream come true. The building, from an outsider's perspective, seemed normal enough, the elevator possessing buttons that displayed floor numbers and even playing classical elevator music from 90's. Hank remarked sarcastically, " I wonder if Beethoven ever rode in an elevator."

Soon enough the party was at 6C. Elizabeth had one last thing to say before inviting her in. " I'm sure you will want to go around, ask questions, and generally, take pictures and things like that. That's completely fine by me. But, you see, though we are technically United States citizens, the consideration no longer applies to us because of the degradation of certain principles held to be true elsewhere. You've heard of the social contract, right? Well, in a little bit that's you will be tasked with coming to an agreement over. There'll be a city council member and a couple other officials who don't feel like explaining themselves yet. But first, we should eat. What are you in the mood for?"

Hank elaborated. " Don't worry, the meeting will be light. We have already negotiated on your behalf for all the rights a traditional American might have. Perhaps even more as most people think they have more rights than they really do under a government that doesn't even know how how to do the impossible." 

Neither of them seemed in a laughing mood. Though the motivations behind what each said we're quite different. A twitch did betray Hank, however. He lusted after those mundane eyes that had heretofore been alien to his daily experience. He wondered how she would condemn him when she saw how he got dirty.