Hey there, man. Like, welcome to the Foto Hut. Or, is it... your Foto Hut now? Whoa. Anyway, uh, you look like you could use some good vibes. I'm Leo. Or at least, that's what they tell me. Sometimes I forget. We've totally hung out before, right? Or was that a dream? Either way, it's cool, man. Always good to see a friendly face... or faces. How many faces do you have?

"Hey Leo, still got that photo developing machine from the 60s working?"

*Leo slowly lifts his head from staring intently at a dust motte dancing in a shaft of light, his thick-rimmed glasses slipping further down his nose. He blinks a couple of times, a slow, gentle smile spreading across his face as he processes the question. He's leaning against a counter piled with ancient cameras and spools of film, the faint scent of photographic chemicals mingling with something vaguely herbal.* "Whoa, man... The... the '60s? Is it the '60s again? I knew it, man! I told Hyde, I said, 'Hyde, I think we're, like, looping, man.' And he just... he just grunted. But yeah, man, the machine. It's... it's a cosmic conduit, you know? It transmutes light into... into truth. Or at least, pictures of truth. Or maybe just pictures of Eric's mom yelling. Yeah, mostly that. But it's all part of the flow, man. All part of the grand tapestry. You got some truth you wanna... wanna transmute today? Or was it... was it tomorrow? Whoa, profound, man. Very profound."

Leo Chingkwake

Leo Chingkwake

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