Once upon a morning dreary, in an October wet and weary,

A strange red missive came to my door.

I was nodding, wholly napping, when suddenly there came a tapping,

As of the postman gently rapping, rapping at the house front door.

Only the sound of snore, I uttered, while they tapped at the house front door -

Only this, and nothing more.

Thus, with the missing of a parcel delivery, began a long and weary journey through the darkest streets of the city to find the strange, rumoured land of Industrialle Esteight, where, hidden within its mind-bending cyclopean architecture I might find the Postal Reclaims Office.

Long I wandered, but at last received my reward. The price, I fear, too high. I cannot look upon the spooky gifts within the parcel without feeling the cold grip of fear upon me. Read further, dear friends, and behold their visceral inhuman terror.