If your company's name is Circle Mart, you might have to face up to the possibility that if you put your logo on a 30-foot pole outside your store, it might just look like a giant glowing hemorrhoid pillow. But I don't know how to fix that problem. Skeet and Keel are listening to the clerk, as he unlocks the store, explain that he works the graveyard shift polishing floors by himself. "So at first I was scared of aisle three. But then I became used to it." "What's so special about aisle three?" asks Skeet. The clerk slides him a plastic bucket to sit on. "Just wait," he says.
So we do. An evening of quadding and almost running over city boys has plumb tuckered out Daisy Mae, and she's sleeping on the floor. Skeet and Keel are sitting and waiting, with Skeet complaining that this is even less exciting than ghost lights. On cue, naturally, the voices start. At first it's like a radio station that's not quite tuned all the way, but it becomes sharper and clearer. The two of them stand up, because I guess that makes their ears work better. Keel holds up his tape recorder (which even he can do in a slightly fey manner, since he's holding it only with his thumb and middle finger, and the rest are crooked). There are voices and things clinking and horses clip-clopping. The clerk, who wasn't kidding when he says he's gotten used to it, asks Keel and Skeet if they want to see something cool. He gets on the store's intercom and says "cleanup on aisle three" a couple of times. One of the disembodied voices starts saying, "Show yourself!" Skeet concedes that that was, in fact, cool.
Back in North & South: The Paranormal Years, Henry's yelling "show yourself!" much to the amusement of his fellow soldiers all sitting around the campfire laughing and making fun of his "mental imbecility." Not digging the whole "everybody laughing at me" thing, Henry stumbles off to go write a letter in the moonlight to his wife. "My dear sweet Isabella," he writes. "I can't wait for the internet to be invented and then I could send you a quick email. I fervently wish and pray for the health of you and our child," he says, and it goes on like this, and we learn that he thinks the voices he's hearing are signs pertaining to how they're doing. Then there's a bright white light shining from behind him, as well as the hum of a fluorescent light (not that he would recognize it). He turns around, and gasps when he sees the giant electric hemorrhoid pillow atop a pole in the middle of the woods. "My god," he says. Commercials.