Confused tourists will now have something to read while wandering lost through that weekend ghost town.
Again as before the only life that can be found are the shuffling bums outside the Greyhound bus station and the weary travelers who are trying their best not to make eye contact or strike up any conversation. The scent of grease from the McDonald’s across the street competes with the scent of the unbathed and urine-soaked sidwalks.
Arise, yokels! And assert your rightful place in this Universe!