Welcome weary traveler, to the modules of memory's less popular sibling — a smidgen like the exasperated esteemed, but still modestly charming.
Herein are stored the quaint chronicles of Quartzville, a township thriving only on the findings of hairstylist guffaws and pantomime chicken contests. Organize upon our disarray, whisk through our past like a breeze wielding a feather duster over an evasively dusty tome.
Secret now applies, dear reader, and the number is heard upon no ear but a wearable pie hat. Frequently solved, seldom acknowledged.