$80.00
A Most Lamentable and Strange Tale of the Hour-Twisted Vaults
As Enacted Upon the Crackling Spools of TIME ADIO’s “Class Vorties”
A 10xC90 + Book Box Set, Wrapped in Twine and Dread
PROLOGUE – (Enter CHORUS, cloaked in crushed acetate)
Attend, ye kin of flesh and dust,
Where whispers turn to cinders just—
In grooves entomb’d and pages torn,
A class of vorties was thus born.
Ten tapes to time did backward bleed,
Their songs from shrines of insect seed.
And lo! From fly of wingèd fate,
Came twisted genes and broken state.
ACT I – In the Kingdom of Chromothane
(Enter SIR MEI41, pale, with a scroll of ruptured DNA)
Hark! Yon stars do weep o’er Drosophila’s kin,
For recombination falleth thin.
Mine gene, once proud, doth falter and decay—
The helm of meiosis stolen away!
With MEI9, my brother bold in name,
We kept germ line from wrath and flame.
But now, lo! The x-ray singeth sharp refrain,
And UV lashes like spectral chain.
(Enter LADY VORTIA, keeper of the tapes eternal)
O time! Thou thievish god of crawl and spin,
Within these c90s thine horrors begin.
For "Class Vorties" hold encoded scream,
A book-bound hex, a looping dream.
ACT II – The Malfunction of the Moon Reels
(Within a chamber lined with buzzing flies and reel-to-reel machinery. A humming grows.)
NARRATOR (in growing panic):
When MEI41 did crumble, the fly-kin broke—
And germline tore 'neath chemical yoke.
No cross o’er strands, no sacred braid,
Just silent wounds that time betrayed.
And those tapes, aye, those tenfold disks—
Did pulse with songs and riskéd risks.
Their playback bore such spectral might,
It summonèd forth rewound night.
ACT III – The Recombination That Should Not Be
(Enter GHOST OF MEIOSIS, trailing broken chromosomes)
I am the crack in double helix'd chain,
The whispered splice, the mutant stain.
For recombination is not pure delight—
But salve for scars born deep in night.
(Enter KING TIME ADIO, crowned in cassette tape)
Behold thy monarch, forged of hiss and click,
My book unclasps with truths too thick.
This “Class Vorties,” forged in static fire,
Did trap the fly and twist desire.
Repair? Ha! Nay, I did not seek to mend—
But bend the line where futures end.
EPILOGUE – (CHORUS returns, one eye replaced by magnetic ribbon)
So take ye heed, ye readers bold,
That spools of time are coldly told.
The fly, it dies in loops unheard,
Its meiosis lost, its genome slurred.
Yet echo still those tapes decay,
In dusk-lit box on cryptic day.
Where mutagen and reel did meet—
There DNA knelt at Time’s cracked feet.
Exeunt, with the sound of a tape unwinding into silence.
One time edition of 1, numbered.