You are standing in the car park again. it is dusk, and The Yumbo Man's huge, blocky silhouette is cut into a sunset the colour of processed cheese. You notice a flyer drifting by your feet, pushed by a sluggish breeze. You stoop to pick it up and read the Text under the Yumbo King (tm) logo:
This place is a message, and part of a system of messages.
Pay attention to it! Sending this message was important to us. We considered ourselves to be a powerful culture.
This place is not a place of honor.
No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here. Nothing valued is here.
What is here is dangerous and repulsive to us. This message is a warning about danger.
The danger is in a particular location. It increases toward a center. The center of danger is here, of a particular size and shape, and below us.
The danger is still present, in your time, as it was in ours.
The danger is to the body, and it can kill.
The form of the danger is an emanation of energy.
The danger is unleashed only if you substantially disturb this place physically. This place is best shunned and left uninhabited.
The door swings open, and some other soul drifts out, face bloody, eyes downcast. You let the flyer drop, and step forward, forgetting the text instantly. You don't remember it again until you note the wrapper on your Yumbo is printed with text. Is that new? Or have you just not noticed before, in your haste and single-minded adoration? You peel a lump of not-quite-melted cheese from the paper. Printed in bright, welcoming text, you read:
This place is not a place of honour.