To: Gravity
From: Nozzle
Subject: Parts is parts

"Do you know," he said, looking sideways at me, holding the hairdryer perilously close to singe-ing range, "I think she's starting to defrost." It was about fucking time. Soon, soon the age of the glorious drag queen would return. We were out on the flat post-industrial wasteland surrounding the city, where underground, buried in concentric circles in big shiny steel tampons were the luckless customers of The Big Chill^TM, a defunct cryogenics lab. Luckily, some rich man (woman or manwoman) had had the foresight to have his favorite performers killed and flash frozen, like so many cod. Mistress Formika, AnarKiKi, Eva Destruction, Lady Bunny: their names bespoke a happier, more innocent and carefree time for humanity. A playful and elegant sexuality, not these dumb tubes and government vouchers, or the migrating sores and perpetual haze of disinfectants we have now. How did my brother and I come to idealize and worship these strange, primeval goddesses? Well should you ask; although I have no personal proof, I believe that the Genuflector is behind it, although for what sick and profane apocalyptic rite, I cannot imagine... I don't care any longer, I'm giving him the ones he asked for, and keeping one or two for myself, for my own pleasure. The long thin arms and legs, the pounds of makeup and glitter, my strange and bejeweled valentine!