The Siren

Haunted by a mesmerizing song that drifts in and out of his consciousness, bringing him feelings of mild contentment, Michael becomes obsessed with uncovering its true meaning.

Its lure is so strong that it interrupts the playing of his grotesque illusionary game, Russian roulette alongside the Grim Reaper, an undertaker and the dwarf.

What, Twister wasn't available?

Michael begins a quest to locate its source by journeying across his street into a macabre, mystical book shop where he learns from a gypsy about ‘The Legend of the Siren’. After all, failing Google, where else would you go?

Believing he is on the verge of discovering the secret of eternal hedonism, he and Fred venture out to a lake where Michael's shadowy visions indicate where the siren may appear.

However, through the foggy darkness, a variety of creatures are heard, yet there is no sign of his mythological saviour.

Eventually, rearing up from the rocks on the riverbank, Michael sees a silhouette that appears to be preparing to emit a tune, but he is soon disappointed when hearing a compilation of screeching and groaning rather than the radiant pitch of an angelic songstress.

After taking a closer look through his binoculars, he declares the talentless tenor is in fact no siren, but merely a banshee which explains its hideous appearance matching its horrible voice. Sirens and banshees, I always get them confused.

Meanwhile, Fred can see or hear nothing of the so called banshee, leaving the deluded Michael to finally admit his siren's song only exists inside his head.

I bet he blames the devil.

Michael quickly declares that Satan is messing with his mind by orchestrating the switching of the siren for the banshee. Really… hasn't the devil got better things to do?