At this point in time, a writhing, bulbous mass began to take the form of something we know and don't know.

One part took the appearance of a network of roots that were yet at points they connected once again in another indiscernible mass, except that this was unmoving and had visible microbial life living on it.

The other took the shape of our favorite phallic object, the very delicious, loved by more than half of the population, the famous, the mushroom.

It climbed on top of the mound of trash where its threads only managed to reach halfway down.

The lower half began to stretch and wriggle around, coiling around each and every piece of trash, sticking each of its threads into every nook and cranny possible.

The top half began to pulse, releasing off dense clouds that fogged the enclosure. Slowly the misty substance began to clear through the small holes in the wall.

A breeze blew by the mound of trash and dirt. Soon the room filled once again with the deep musky scent that accompanies rotting organics.

The pieces of trash the lower half had wrapped around cracked only a bit, yet the threads reached in and pushed.

The pulsing soon accelerated, pumping more and more mist into the room. Accompanying it was the heat as each pulse brought with it not only a wave of particles but heat.

As seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, the mist began to become denser and denser.

Then came a burst. A burst so dense that it was almost liquid. It dissipated into the surrounding air only as much as the space it was in.

The fog only grew thicker and thicker until the threads blended into a tentacle.

And it started dying. The splintered pieces of trash no longer splintered apart anymore, only growing smaller now.

The mist followed after, slowly dissipating into the night sky through the holes. As the mist blew through though, some particles caught onto the sides, making the hole ever so tighter.

A small cockroach skittered around and nibbled at small bits and pieces of plastic.

A worm wriggled through, cleaning the tunnels of any particles stuck there.

Everybody knew what to do. Everybody knew how to do it. Everybody knew it. Simple repetitive work.

The shell of the cockroach was tinted a bit darker.

The worm grew harder skin.

The writhing mass of flesh that was the source of all this commotion began to join its threads together. Soon it began to sink its roots between the cracks in the wall with only the phallic part of it sticking out. The green spots against the dark brown flesh began to pulse outwards as if a small life was wishing to escape.

With a pop one of the pods exploded. Acid splattered against the wall.

Soon one by one more and more popped.

The walls made of trash, now discolored began to show signs of something.

It was at this moment that the sun managed to shine straight through one of the holes Senny had dug, and it was at this moment that the tentacles frantically moved to place a dusty, skin bound object under the ray that shone in.

The object began to open like a clam to reveal a glistening white background marred with dark ink spots. But amongst the black and white there was a spot of color so vibrant and untouched by the dust that dimmed everything. The spot of color formed the shapes of a human in colors not seen in the junkyard. He held a long silver rectangle within his hands. In the background was a blue that was bluer than any blue elsewhere.

The phallic head tilted its head such that the underside was exposed to the colors. Two flaps opened and dark spots formed from millions of threads appeared. The flabs then controlled themselves to wrap protect the threads from the harsh sun appeared, only letting a small reflected beam touch the threads from the curious object. Some threads retracted while others coiled in an attempt to clarify the colors into something discernible from more than a bit away.

Alejandros scurried across, blocking a small portion of dark ink with his now purple-spotted shell. As soon as the cockroach ran a small distance away, a tentacle shifted.

Down came a piece that was so perfectly shaped into the ceiling crashing down on Alejandros.

The cockroach laid there unmoving.

A few threads began to move to place the ceiling back together.

Soon the legs began to twitch and the body wriggle. It began as the legs dragged the corpse into a crack but soon the legs found the energy to lift the whole body up and off into a crack.

The walls, which had previously been hit by the acid, began to crumble where they were affected.

In a mad scramble, the threads snaked out and brought back pieces of plastic to plug the areas which started to crumble and to hold up the ceiling that was soon to collapse.

Tentatively, the threads began to retract into the cracks where they came from and the walls were stable again.

As the ray slowly shifted, so did the clam so white yet marred with color. As the ray slowly left the edge of the hole the clam snapped shut.

The fibers moved the clam under a piece of debris and made sure by covering it extra.

Slowly Senny and Alejandros began to emerge from somewhere in between the cracks. The clinking of Senny's shell jingled as the set of chimes outside did. The tapping of all 12 legs of Alejandros sounded against the floor, echoing against the almost silent room.