This song is the second in a series of prequels to the album 'Tortoiseshell Male in... the Befuddling Mystery of the Moratorium' begun with the depiction of Staring Flak MC's backstory in 'the Tortoiseshell Male Xmas Variety Hour'. This release details the sketchy events surrounding the life of 'Spoilt' Victor McCall, current whereabouts unknown, and how he supposedly gained the ability to reverse the aging process thanks to a terrible deal with the supernatural entity and alleged daemon Gruel Hovel, current whereabouts unknown also.

A man worse for wear stumbles, choking and spitting phlegm, and drunkenly happens upon a kind of sadistic fairground gambling attraction involving a merry-go-round spun by masked carnies who prance and sing a jaunty sea shanty before suddenly our unnamed protaganist is thrust into an entirely different scene, a grim medieval tableau in which a primitive factory line of people is conveyered unavoidably towards a cruel gullotine, chopping indiscriminately amongst the grind of machinery and plaintive screams of it's victims.

Just as the blade is about to strike, our protaganist blinks and awakes in the afterlife. A girl smiling next to him in bed appears and just as swiftly dissipates. A diminutive pensioner in a red suit ticks a clipboard, and the elevator that encloses this bedroom scene plunges towards some inevitably imagined hell, each potential afterlife's elderly representative sadly shaking their head as monks in surgical gowns and masks begin to dance and chant around the bed and the lift falls ever further. The expected parallel decline in morality is perplexed by the ever increasing detachment from any human values in each consecutive afterlife even more than than the deep surreality of each floor's interior decoration.

Finally rejected from every afterlife, the dying man realises he has never achieved anything truly good or evil in his life, or indeed anything that really meant something to him whilst he was doing it, and thus he cannot be assigned an appropriate fate. The final, frail old man ticks his clipboard and tips over an hourglass as a deal is struck. Time spins backward as the lift ascends back through the floors of the afterlife, back through the grisly executions, back round the fairground ride, and the mark coughs backwards and swallows his own phlegm, emerging from the circus tent with a sinister pyramid headed entity floating above him useen to all.

This piece was recorded live last winter and kept in a vault until now, where it was released according to N Senada's Theory of Obscurity.