What Exit? is surrounded by raccoons!

[terrifel]

They're all around you What Exit? You can't escape. Hide in that van all you want. Their dextrous paws have pulled out all the wiring the battery cables. Now at last, you are totally surrounded. Just look at them out there, grooming themselves, waiting. They know where you are. They can see into your dreams.





















RACCOONS ARE WAITING FOR YOU

[OtakuLoki]

And just in case you think that they will get bored and go away- they've got a comfort station set up over there:




Don't expect the dog to help you, either!

[Zuul]

[Elendil's Heir]

Looks like it's time to spray again, Jim.

[What Exit?]

Have you ever trapped a raccoon? I have, nasty little buggers. They would rip your throat out just to watch you die. They would headbutt you in the groin for fun. They voted for Dick Cheney.

[beebs]

Tune in next week for the thrilling conclusion!

[Elendil's Heir]

Bring it!

[Zuul]

Why the raccoons had targeted What Exit? the world will never know. We have tried our best to piece together the events that led to this unfortunate outcome. What we have been able to determine:

• It began with a furry avatar. A raccoon agent infiltrated the board and switched What Exit?'s beautiful wedding photograph with that of an anthropomorphic raccoon.
• They surrounded his van. What he was doing in a van, we don't know.
• He was never seen again. Oh, some say he's still here, posting, but we know they are lies. That is not the true What Exit?, but about three raccoons standing on top of one another in a Jimsuit.

Be aware. Be watchful. It could happen to you.

[What Exit?]

I feeeel fine. I think I'll go for a walk in fact.

[OtakuLoki]

Just going to check on your dumpster security, *Jim*?

[Zuul]

(Watch your trash cans, Mellos!)

[terrifel]

They are closer now; each furtive movement brings them a bit nearer. You feel the weight of their gaze, contemplating you with loathsome mirth. How many pairs of eyes gleam in the darkness? Dozens? Hundreds? You can't be sure. Black and soulless as the void between distant stars, they peer at you with merciless curiosity, cold and wise with alien intellect. Within those cosmic depths lurks the siren call of madness, sweetly honeyed whispers of blasphemous frolics beneath a gibbous moon.

"Join us," they seem to croon, hissing and chittering with dark glee. The air is heavy with their clinging odor, thick with musk and decay and freshly turned earth. "Come out to us, What Exit? Join our eternal revels. Look, we have shiny objects. See how shiny they are?" Small, glittering objects dance enticingly within their preternaturally nimble paws -- coins, bottle caps, bits of colored glass... human teeth? They are whisked out of sight before you can be certain.

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle. There is movement behind you now.







"For you," whispers the voice in the night. "For you."