"How quickly the cream turns sour. We've been here more than five months now. We drove out last fall to escape from the Montreal winter, and ended up here in Vancouver the night before Halloween. It was Rhona who told us about this place. We met her at a party and she was all dressed up like one sexy kitty cat, and she comes purring over to where we were sitting on the sofa together, and twirls her tail seductively three or four times, then plants herself right in between us. So, she purrs her way right into our hotel room with us and we all opt for a lovely little overnight together. At breakfast she tells us about this fantastic sprawling mansion she is living in with a community of people, idealists, working together for a higher purpose of universal love and brotherhood. Really, she made it sound so alluring and seductive, every bit as seductive as her own sexy feline self, so we drove her back with us, and she was the bait and the hook, and Lydia and I haven't left the place ever since. She did her job oh so very well, and apparently that is her job, going out into the community for live meat to bring home to feed to her kittens.
"There was even a write up about this place in one of the new Vancouver underground rags, this one called Tribes, and all about alternative communities. A very flattering piece and all about heaven on earth and angels walking among us. Strange coincidence that we should read about this just the day before, after we booked into our hotel, and I was looking for something to read. It was another guest in the hotel who invited us to the Halloween Party. We met him in the lounge downstairs. A rather affable, artistic type, but what a cheap drunk! He didn't appear to know Rhona, so I don't think there's any plot going on here..."
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