Enter the disturbed mind of Greg Stanina, an unholy realm of macabre nightmares rife with barbaric beast-men and the sultry leopard woman who will melt your heart and then rip it out of your of your ribcage, and satanic symphonies with melodies capable of opening the gates of Hell. Prepare yourself for a descent into madness, where each twist and turn inches you towards the precipice of sanity.
A human breeze, a fluffy nimbus, a gasser and a gasseroo, a soothing sauna, a cool cucumber, a tonic fizz, a sunset sail, a shrug, a wink, and a whistle. And I may or may not suffer from acute Stendhal Syndrome.