it was his job to repair the models in the model town. people were always walking backwards into a cottage or tripping over a pencil sized lampost. kids would pick things up - people, letterboxes, cars and put them in their mouth. you would find them hidden in a tissue or stuck back down with chewing gum.sometimes jokers would add their own little vulgar scene they had prepared at home or stick in a model dinosaur or whale. he would take these broken rejects and put them in his attic. a cottage with a hole in the roof, people with chewing gum elephantisis, broken lamposts. model people superglued humping. a city of disability, worn surfaces and outlandish freakiness. the main strip was like lilliput on acid.~ dinosaurs slumped at saloons. goats riding on playpark swings and roundabouts. a lot of barnyard animals stuck in motor vehicle windows. army men on leave or at retirement age, gawking at a broken barbie.

the poorly lit back streets were worse. small dioramas of tragedy or childish perversion. a woman with a giant cigarette burn to the face. burnt out cars. a lot of models with added chewing gum limbs. woman with giant jelly tot tits. a lot of sweets in fact, so much so that he had opened Sweetsburg. a little suburb of Brokeville. there was mr hula hoops. mr mushy peanut butter cup. mr gummi bear. mr and mrs jelly bean head, just about every taste, colour and race of sweet was represented in Sweetsburg.

they would all sit there for a few months at a time. till he got round to fixing them. removing the sugar. sawing off an attachment. remaking their legs or head. touching up their paint till they were all glossy and new and refreshed. then they would leave their vacation in Brokeville and go back to their normal everyday lives in the model town.

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