This place has everything: book-museums, disgraced tree-fingered Americans, an illegal sitcom set where beloved children's character Rafiki the Baboon eulogizes jar of jams.
Just take that haunted old accident-prone Christmas-themed railcar that mysteriously kills people, the Holly-Jolly Folly Trolley, to the witch who sells small-batch poisons at the bottom of the East River and ask for Mishka
Are you checking out the weirdo pretending to care about the environment? That's just the hot priest from Fleabag, and they do NOT look happy to see you, girl.
Who's over there totally blowing up on TikTok? That's just Thelonious Monk's no-good cousin, Felonious Drunk, and they do NOT look happy to see you, girl.
Who's over there correctly reinterpreting iconic literary figures as raging bisexuals? That's just a newly unionized mall Santa, and they do NOT look happy to see you, girl.
This place has everything: computer-mushrooms, unauthorized Pokémon trainers, a solid concrete lair where Tracee Ellis Ross in a really good Dionne Warwick costume writes steamy slashfic about waters.
Who is that stranger making fun of your stupid haircut? That's just a power bottom going to town on some Top Ramen, and they do NOT look happy to see you, girl.
This place has everything: sock-carpets, super-horny neglectful parents, a kitten-infested porch where the pig head from Lord of the Flies subtweets washing machines.
Just take the Soul Train to Tony's, you know the guy with the head, with the thing on his neck? Good guy though. Anyway, you go to Tony's grave and ask for Buttercup