Paul: You want to know how Games News is made.
You’re barely out the taxi door when the car speeds away into the moist and misty night. No other driver would take you to this part of town, not that you even know what this part of town is. The distant splash of water tells you its the docks… somewhere? Yet there’s no water in sight, just bending, sagging buildings that leer down at you and the sickly light of one myopic street lamp.
Almost pushing through the freezing fog, you find the address you were given. A tailor, apparently. “Alterations, modifications, anything sewn rearranged.” It hits you. “Sewn,” rearranged is “News.”
Mad Bella opens the door of the low, frumpy building. Don’t look her in the eye. Hunched, she beckons, with a gurgle.
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