As our office space is located in the Fritzl wing of 3 Belfortsrasse, this incessant rain combined with warm temperatures has caused a rank bloom of mould to appear in our workspace and, until our slack-ass German landlady gets things sorted, we are all experiencing various forms of delirium from the fungal forest’s noxious output. The upside is that the headfuck the spores induces is cheaper than drugs.
So, to combat the poisoning we’re experiencing, we’ve taken action and are having to sport hastily-assembled Haz-Mat protection.
Thanks, Bataleon, for helping us to survive this plague of spores. And if issue 108 is all psychedelic and shit, you know why.