The halls of this small shack remain unchanged in their paths, even this little project of rebuilding the portal has memories rushing back. A shame it's slowly losing its touch and becoming a tourist attraction under the con-mans control. It's hard to take seriously when there's a pigeon head glued onto the taxidermied body of a squirrel. Well, as long as it catches on...

Nonetheless it's somehow the same, the atmosphere of it all that's filled him with a sense of dread, constantly edging for something to happen. There's far too large of a similarity between the seemingly casual project with Stanford that went array in just a matter of days, compared to this... Except there's a purpose this time; retrieve the cat in a box, known to be neither dead or alive, Stanford.

This time he's got an outlaw on his side. In turn of the egotistical, narcissistic who had at least an inkling of what he was doing, despite sacrificing anything in it's wake for the cause; Stanley doesn't care for social harmony, making a mark on history or saving the world, but so long the feds don't pay them a visit, they might slip through the cracks with the pretenses of a shady mystery shack, a perfect cover for their true intentions.

They've actually sewn close together, for once cold beer was handed to him, pre opened, without being expected to give in turn... Stanley's frame slumped against his, as it turned out, running a small business is a tasking job, on top of that to build a multidimensional portal — poor victim.