As we entered beyond the facade of the city structure, we found ourselves in a clearing with strange artwork strewn about. We checked it out, and I saw Jordan pop behind a line of trees. Better than the port-o-potties, I thought. But a minute later he didn't reappear. So naturally I walked into the edge of the trees to find him. He was gone. In his stead was a labrynth of mazes through the forest, with string and tape delineating the paths.

I told the ladies I'd be back and charged in after him. The paths were cut off at about 4 or 5 feet, so you had to crouch down as you traversed the maze. But I cut through the woods, completely lost and turned around. Occasionally I'd run into a person or strange art creation. Foreign music emanated from all around me. Then, in a moment of inspiration, I charged down a random corridor and found him at the end. Later he would say to me, "I felt like a lizard in that forest."

Wandering around the Sunk City Forest, I found myself next to a large pit of balls. There were basketballs, soccer balls, footballs, whiffle balls--just about every sort of ball you can imagine.

I thought it was neat but didn't quite understand It.
Later in my journey around the Sunk City, I found myself on a ramp leading upwards. I followed it, wherever it led, then peered down from above.

The balls suddenly took form in my imagination. Somehow, magically, they had been set to the face of Groucho Marx. Darker balls created his glasses and 'stache. Brown balls formed his cigar. The funny glasses and mustache from the weekend all made sense. It made sense. (At least to me.)