It is nighttime in the city. Tatty terraces and scattered concrete tower blocks, the detritus of a vast up-turned wheelie bin bathed in orange twilight. Around this time of year strange things happen. The ether is populated with unruly beasts. Pipes can be heard tapping in the darkness, lightbulbs flicker, music plays on an unplugged jukebox and faint calls of distant laughter can be heard echoing in the subway. An empty karaoke booth crackles into life and the soft crooning lament drifts through the still corridors, someone has entered the building. Contains fragments of: Stomu Yamash'ta's Red Buddha Theatre; What a way to live in modern times With thanks to: Stephen Mallinder and antivoid alliance.