"She's named after my sister." Punchy says that with a strange sort of reverence, a seriousness that rivals the gravity he expressed when talking about the Cornucopia. It matters, to him. It's the only connection he still has to her. "Usually I get her some Catholic threads, you know, like a nun, but I ain't found any in this joint."

He sticks his hand in the puppet and makes it wave at Tim, before putting his feet up on the roller coaster car hood and stroking his chin.

"I can't figure out how to get it to play anything but just sound right now. You shoulda heard it a few hours ago, it was nothing but jams from Cinderella on loop. It doesn't receive by anything but tape." Which, Punchy worries, makes this all a worthless endeavor. "I got a chip from one of those marker things, and I know it's for broadcasting, but it doesn't match the speakers."

He sits up, suddenly determined.

"I need more parts. I know what to do."