Date: Sat, 3 Sep 2022 20:25:02 +0200
From: "Piggysleaze@mail.com" <piggysleaze@mail.com>
Subject: A Week in Grassmore - 4

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Welcome to the latest Piggysleaze series. It is set in the same "world" as
some of my other stories, so I've provided a quick background summary if
you haven't read those. This series is one of EXTREME raunch, and will
eventually include scat, puke, and other degenerate themes. As always, do
not read if younger than 18, and this work of fiction does not represent
any real people. Email is always welcome: piggysleaze@mail.com


Backstory: By 2022 a secret cabal of filthy, degenerate, incestuous raunch
families had attained the highest levels of power and money. They used
their privilege, wealth, and positions of power to launch a scheme that had
been decades in the making: filling the food and water supply with
pharmaceuticals that would turn ordinary men into filth-craving, depraved
pigs like themselves. For one of their first testing trials in the fall of
'22, the cabal selected the small Midwestern town of Grassmore, population
1,000. This is what happened over the course of a week, as the additives
began to affect the town's male inhabitants.


THURSDAY

Bill had an important morning meeting -- important for the future of the
town, the bank, and for him as the president of the venerable
institution. Reluctantly disentangling himself from his 16-year-old son in
their filthy bed, he set about putting on his most expensive suit and
tie. The charcoal grey pants and silk-lined jacket looked smart on him, as
did his gartered black socks and gleaming black shoes. His crisp white
shirt and silk blue tie made him look like the bank president he was. But
underneath he was still a pig. He had slid on his thickest and heaviest
stainless steel cockring as well as the matching stainless steel ball
stretcher, making his heavy sac dangle low like he loved. Before zipping
and belting his perfectly-pressed pants, he inserted his new favorite
buttplug into his mancunt. The plug was also stainless steel, completing
the set. It didn't fill him as wonderfully as his son's fist and arm had
last night, but it would do for now. He shook Caleb awake, knowing his son
wouldn't want to miss a minute of school, and gave him a spit-soaked
morning kiss goodbye. "Today's a big day at work, stud," he told his
incestuous lover, as Caleb rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "I'm heading
on in."


"O.K. Dad," Caleb replied, sitting up against the headboard. "Good luck. I
know you are going to be awesome." Then the beautiful teen opened up his
bladder and started pissing through his morning hardon all over his jock
body and the already-stinking bed. Bill groaned with disappointment that he
couldn't just dive into that firehose of rank piss, but he needed to get
going. He smiled proudly when his son called after him, "You look fucking
hot in that suit, dad."


When he arrived at the bank, Bill went straight to the conference room. His
assistant Jason was already there. The 23-year-old was also dressed in a
suit, although it was much more ill-fitting than Bill's since he had
probably borrowed it for his first "real" job after college. Jason was
gangly and scruffy, with wildly unkempt brown hair, and the perpetual
bloodshot eyes of a stoner. Bill always thought he looked more like a pizza
delivery dude than an executive assistant, but after giving Jason a chance,
he was pleasantly surprised that beneath the slacker exterior was a
meticulous manager that basically kept the place running day-to-day. And
more recently, the bank president had discovered his assistant was also an
excellent cocksucker. Bill walked up to him and grabbed the back of his
head, pulling him in by the hair for a rough snog of dueling tongues and
raking teeth. The two made out for a couple minutes, rubbing their hard
cocks against each other through the wool and silk of their suit
pants. When at last they paused, Bill went right into the business at
hand. "Is everything ready?"


Jason nodded diligently. "Packets are at each seat. Everything has been
triple checked, so it should all go smoothly. And...," he paused, looking
over Bill's shoulder, "here they come."


Bill nodded and told Jason to go ahead and take his place. Jason crawled
under the table as the five men pushed open the glass door and entered the
conference room. As the bank's Board, they radiated the sort of confidence
and ease that one would expect from the rich and powerful. They were all
big-bellied and big-assed guys; similarly interchangeable wealthy white men
with huge appetites -- for food, drink, sex, and otherwise. In another era
they might have been called the epitome of "fat cats." As they took their
seats, Bill started. "Gentlemen, I'm aware you are all very busy, so let's
just dive right in. As you know, over the years the bank has accumulated
far too many properties in Grassmore through foreclosure, bankruptcy, and
just plain abandonment. Not only is this bad for the town, it is bad for
us, weighing on the balance sheets. However, working with the mayor and
city council, I believe we have a plan to change all that. Through a set of
tax breaks from the city and favorable loans from us, along with our direct
oversight and control of the accounting, we believe we can convert all
these empty spaces into profitable businesses within a few months."


The men around the table nodded appreciatively, recognizing the logic and
good business sense of what Bill was saying, so he continued. "If you open
your packet, you'll see the first proposed business is a massive porno
theater. This is just the kind of sleazy venue that men will flock to once
it is up and running, and requires very little in startup costs. In fact, a
few filthy couches and mattresses are all that's needed. Up to 100 men can
come here 24/7 to fuck and get off while the best porn plays on the big
screen. Of course, the concession stand will sell poppers, weed, and meth,
which is also almost all profit." Under the table Jason could see the Board
members rubbing their crotches as his boss laid out a vision of the perfect
porno theater. They could all see the hordes of rutting men in the dark and
sweaty space, fucking and sucking openly while the sights and sounds of
extreme porn surrounded them. Jason crawled under the table and over to one
of the men at the end (he had no idea who it was), quickly unzipping the
fat man's tightly packed pants. A hard, stubby, unwashed cock flopped out,
sticking up through the fly under a massive roll of belly fat. Jason
immediately started sucking, earning a moan of appreciation as Bill
continued his presentation.


"Now, on page two you'll see our next business will be a bathhouse. This is
a slightly more expensive option for horny guys, but of course, there are
more opportunities for getting off: Gloryholes, fuck rooms, steamrooms,
saunas, slings, and so on." Jason could hear more zippers opening and saw
that every cock except Bill's was now out under the table. The assistant
crawled from seat to seat, sucking expertly while jacking whichever other
dicks were within arm's length. The men who weren't being serviced
leisurely pumped their cocks, hoping that the warm mouth would be making it
back to them soon.


As they flipped to page three, Bill explained, "next, we have a new gym to
go into the abandoned warehouse space on Elm Street."


Here, one of the Board members spoke up for the first time. "Didn't the
town have a gym a couple years ... ahhh fuck, yeah, yank my balls while you
suck. That's nice. Yeah, nice and hard ... a couple years ago that went out
of business? Are we sure that a gym can make money? Ahhh fucking nice,
man. Fucking smack 'em up. Harder fucker. Hit my balls til they burst."


Bill answered the question over the sound of the Board member's nuts being
pummeled again and again, while the corpulent man tilted back his head in
ecstasy. "Harry raises a good point. Of course, in this gym guys will be
able to work out AND fuck freely. So, imagine squat racks that include
fisting settings, and stationary bikes with dildo attachments, as well as
just general fucking areas on the mats and machines. More importantly, this
gym will freely sell steroids so that guys can get fully juiced. They can
shoot each other up right in the lobby, filling their veins with the best
stacks of cutting edge roids. In just a few weeks, every patron in this gym
will have turned themselves into a mountain of vein-riddled,
testosterone-fueled pig muscle. Naturally, we will get a cut of all that
revenue."


Harry nodded at the excellent answer, before moaning, "Aww fuck, that's
it. I'm cumming. FUCCKKKK." As Harry unloaded buckets of cum down Jason's
throat and over his face, Bill proceeded.


"Now, similar to that, we will be able to convert the derelict apartment
building on Main Street into a brand-new medical facility -- one that
specializes in the modification of cocks and balls. I'm talking monster
meat, here gentlemen. We've secured the country's best specialists in
saline and silicone enhancements. These are the treatments that can give
men cocks as big as a fire extinguisher and balls the size of grapefruits
and basketballs. Men will flock to Grassmore for bull balls and monster
cocks." The vision of all those enormous, enhanced cocks and balls (along
with his assistant's oral talents) sent another of the Board members over
the edge, and Bill could hear Jason under the table slurping hungrily,
trying to take what was obviously a geyser of cum.


As talented as his assistant was, Bill also realized that he needed to jump
in to help keep this important meeting on track. Showing the skills that
made him such an effective leader, Bill paused in his presentation and
stood up. He then proceeded to grab the seat of his $1,000 suit's pants and
ripped them open. His meaty ass fell out, fully exposed as the expensive
fabric flopped loose. Next, he pulled out the stainless steel buttplug that
he had inserted earlier back home, and set it on the table. It was thick
with Bill's morning shit, which he could feel was packed in deep up his
tunnel. While Jason scurried under the table to keep attending the next
Board member's cock, Bill leaned slightly forward, offering his shitty ass
to whomever might be waiting for relief. Sure enough, one of the Board
members hopped up, cock sticking out of his tailored suitpants, and came
around to Bill's backside.


"Continuing on to pages six and seven," Bill said, resuming the meeting
even as the fat Board member's beercan cock slid into his shit-slick
hole. Ever the professional, the bank president flowed effortlessly between
the raunchy sex he had initiated and the business at hand. "Ahhh fuck
that's good. Fuck my shitty cunt. Our other plans for Main Street are just
as ambitious. Dispensaries for all sex-enhancing substances at each
end. Liquor stores without age minimums. Sex toy retailers. Slutwear
stores. Harder you fat fuck. Plow through that shit. Make it blast out all
over my ass and all over your hairy pubes. And of course, Main Street will
continue to have long-established businesses like Danny's Barber Shop and
the hardware store. Yeah, man, I can smell the stink. Fuck me in and out so
you can smear it all over back there, fucker. Cover me in my sewage. And
let me be clear, gentleman..."


Here he paused as Jason brought off another Board member under the table,
waiting until the groans of ecstasy died down, "Let me be clear that with
our bitch wives out of the picture, we can tend to the business of men
being men again. Steakhouses, cigar shops, whiskey bars, sports bars. Yeah,
smear that shit all over my ass you fat, fucking pig. Paint my butt in
thick shit sludge."  The Board members were nodding in agreement at Bill's
vision of an all-male utopia on their Main Street. No more nagging cunts to
tell them what they could and couldn't buy. Sportscars. Giant TVs. Massive
grills for thick slabs of red meat every night. Every room in every house
in Grassmore could now be a mancave. And more importantly, the Board saw
that the money would flow like water.


"Ahhhh fuck I'm cumming," roared the Board member behind Bill, his shitty
hands reaching up to grab the bank president by the pecs as he humped his
scalding load into the creamy shit chute. Thick handprints of brown sewage
soaked into Bill's suit jacket and starched white shirt. At the table the
final Board member was also convulsing as Jason's excellent mouth brought
him to climax. That was five for five, thought Bill. As his shit-fucking
Board member headed back to his seat, cock dripping in sludge, Bill knew he
now needed to bring his pitch to its grand finale.


"Finally, there's the old cold storage facility on the edge of town, that
has been an albatross around our necks for years. But it can be repurposed
for one very important objective: Servers." He paused for dramatic effect,
and noted the confused looks around the table. He launched into the final
part of his plan. "Internet servers, gentlemen. State of the art, as good
and as powerful as anything in Silicon Valley. And why servers? Because we
are going to give webcams to every household in Grassmore that wants to
earn a little extra money, or just wants to be perverted
exhibitionists. Think of all the horny guys around the world who are
jacking off right now. How much would they pay to see our fathers and sons
fuck? How much would they pay to see our men eating shit and our boys being
fisted? How much would they pay to see our orgies of filth pigs or how
nasty our fellow townsmen can be? Incest. Bestiality. Scat. Puke. There are
no limits. And there are no limits to how much we could earn broadcasting
it all to the most perverted and depraved men with an internet
connection. It can all be done through paid webfeeds and subscription
accounts set up by our own citizenry. We, here at the bank, of course will
take our percentage off the top, because all that high-grade, highly
addictive porn will flow over our perfectly encrypted, completely invisible
servers. Think of it, gentlemen -- millions of pedophiles and raunch pigs
spending their money to watch Grassmore men and boys do what we do
naturally day in and day out."


When he finished his speech, there was dead silence in the room. Even the
sound of Jason sucking clean the shit-covered cock went quiet. And then,
suddenly, all five men jumped to their feet applauding, their puffy,
drained cocks still dangling from their exorbitantly-priced
suits. "Brilliant." "Genius." "Wonderful," they shouted. Within 30 minutes
the entire plan was approved and Bill was given free command of all the
bank's financial resources to make it happen. The board also voted big
raises for Bill and Jason, commending them on such an impressive
meeting. After they exited, Bill and Jason rushed at each other and began
making out in passionate celebration.


"Fuck," said Bill sadly as a pulled away, "I really should stay dressed. I
need to meet the mayor in a few minutes."


"No problem," Jason said, grabbing the crotch of Bill's expensive suit and
ripping it open to match the backside. His boss' impressive cock and balls
flopped out, festooned in the steel cock ring and weights. Dropping to his
knees, the young assistant deep throated the bank president's cock, sucking
the monster all the way down to its base like the pro he was. Bill just
moaned in pleasure, bucking his hips back and forth to throat-fuck his
employee.


A few of the bank's other staff gathered on the other side of the
conference room's glass wall to watch, jacking off their own cocks against
the transparent partition. Bill picked up his pace, rocking in and out of
the warm, wet sheathe of Jason's gullet. "FUCCKKK" he shouted, announcing
his climax. Just as he blasted down Jason's throat, all six of his
employee's cocks also erupted on the other side of the glass wall,
smothering the glass in wave after wave of creamy cum. The sight of the
boardroom glass being doused in gallons of cum prolonged Bill's orgasm, and
he continue to pump ropes of pig batter into Jason's mouth. When he was
finally done, he slowly pulled out from his assistant's mouth, trailing
spit and residual jizz over his chin. A waterfall of cum was running down
the wall on the other side, like some sort of perverted decorative
feature. Actually, thought Bill, a frosted glass wall from endless loads of
cum would look good. He'd have Jason send out a memo for all employees to
contribute a load or two each day until the glass wall was completely
covered in spooge.


Looking up at the clock, he gave Jason -- still on his knees -- a playful
slap across the cheek. "Gotta run," he said. Jason smiled as he watched his
boss head for the door. One look at Bill's current state and the mayor was
going to know exactly how well the meeting had gone.


***


Grassmore was too small to support a traditional country club. What it had
instead was a small, private men's club dating back to the turn of the
century called the Schweinson Club. Walking in, Bill took a deep breath to
smell the 100+ years of cigar smoke and furniture polish that defined "The
Schwein," as everyone called it. It was a large, single room, lined with
leatherbound books and filled with leather couches and chairs. Scattered
about was a billiards table and assorted trunks and cabinets holding
accoutrements like cut crystal decanters of port and teak cigar humidor
boxes. Thick oriental rugs covered the floor and a fully stocked mahogany
bar dominated the corner opposite the door. James, the club's butler, was a
Schwein institution, able to make perfect cocktails to the exacting
specifications of every member. Before Bill's eyes had even fully adjusted
to the room's dim light, James was walking towards him with a silver tray
containing the bank president's Manhattan cocktail and thick Cuban
cigar. The butler was completely naked except for a bow tie, his long,
curved cock pointing out from his trim, fit, middle-aged body (although no
one knew exactly how old James actually was). In a crisp British accent, he
bowed his head slightly as he held out the tray. "Hello, sir. I trust the
meeting went well."


Bill retrieved his drink and cigar, and somehow the impeccable James also
produced a lighter, holding out the flame to light the plump, hand-rolled
Cuban. As Bill puffed his cigar to life, he gave the butler's beautiful
cock a few strokes. "Yes, James, it went very well, thank you." The butler
took in the sight of Bill's current state. The bank president's suit pants
were held in place only by an expensive belt of Italian leather. Otherwise,
both the crotch and ass had been completely ripped open, threads and fabric
wafting loosely around the edges of the exposed sections. Bill's engorged
cock was set off by a massive cockring, and heavy weights were pulling down
his impressive balls. Meanwhile his exposed ass was thoroughly coated in
thick shit. Above the waist, his silk blue tie hung along his starched
white shirt which was underneath a perfectly tailored jacket. Both shirt
and jacket were smeared with several handprints of what was obviously
streaks of even more shit.


"Sir," offered James as he assessed the club member standing The Schwein's
entryway. "Might I help you make an adjustment to your attire before you
meet with the mayor?"


"Of course, James. The club has to keep up standards." James nodded in
agreement before pushing Bill down to his knees. Pumping his
delicious-looking British cock a few times, he grabbed Bill's silk tie and
proceeded to spurt ropes of thick, heavy jizz up and down the length of
it. Ever the expert at impeccable service, all the butler's hot, steamy
batter landed precisely on the blue tie, ensuring every white, creamy
rivulet was set off beautifully in the azure background.


"Very good, sir," James said approvingly as Bill stood up. "I believe you
will find the mayor in his usual spot."


"Thank you, James," Bill said appreciatively, looking down at his
cum-soaked tie. "I don't know what this place would do without you." As the
butler left to tend to the needs of other members, Bill headed to a
semi-private corner of the room created by antique carved screens of
exquisite craftsmanship. Rounding the screen, he found the mayor lounging
on a soft dark brown leather sofa. Mayor Mike Cumbert was the same age as
Bill; in fact, they'd grown up together. They were certainly best friends
and practically brothers. Like Bill, Mike has let his beer gut grow over
the last few years, not minding the bearish look it gave him, along with
his dense, dark body hair. The two had been college roommates; best men at
each other's wedding; and lifelong Grassmore residents when so many others
had moved away. But it was only recently that they had started fucking, and
now they couldn't imagine anything other than raunchy pig sex between
them. Mike was splayed naked on the couch, his cock encased in a thick,
heavy vacuum pump and his balls stretched by a round leather harness
attached to a 10 lb. weight hanging mid-air off the edge of couch. Like
Bill, he was also smoking a cigar, the half-finished Cuban clutched between
his teeth while his hands pulled on his enormous utter-like tits. Bill
loved Mike through and through, but damn he was jealous of those tits!


"How did it go," the mayor asked through his clinched cigar, making no move
to stop playing with his giant nipples that Bill swore were actually
leaking pre-cum into his slippery fingers.


Bill plopped down in a wide leather chair catty-corner to the couch and
hoisted his polished dress shoes up onto the dark-stained coffee table. He
spread his legs wide and pushed his exposed ass out to the edge of the
seat. "Grand slam home run," he said with a grin, fingering his shitty
hole. "The whole plan is approved. After lunch I can start making the calls
and signing the paperwork."


"Excellent," Mike exclaimed, finally removing his cigar with one hand,
although his other continued its aggressive tit-twizzling and milking. "I
pre-approved all the permits this morning, assuming the best." Bill nodded
approvingly as he sucked his fingers clean of their shitty coating before
returning them to his cunt to get filthy all over again. "We've also
reached out to every contractor, carpenter, plumber, and painter in town to
let them know these jobs are in the pipeline. Given what we can pay, I
suspect everyone will make one of these new businesses their number one
priority."


"Yeah, but we'll need even more workers and tradies to get it all done,"
said Bill dreamily, thinking of all the construction men who would be
pouring into town for these lucrative contracts. His ass was itching for
the number of building and construction crew inspections he'd have to make
in the coming weeks.


"Don't worry about labor. Already working on it," replied Mike as he puffed
clouds of cigar smoke into the air. "There's going to be a lot of hot
Mexican cock in town any day now. Hope you like chorizo!" Bill rolled his
eyes and groaned at his friend's bad joke, but he was definitely oozing
pre-cum at the thought of dozens of unwashed Mexican cocks and holes full
of loose bean burrito shit. Just then James reappeared with another silver
tray, this one laden with a penis pump identical to the mayor's and a black
15-inch dildo.


"I thought," said James in his soothing British baritone, "that perhaps
you'd like to join the mayor in some pumping play. And I see that your ass
is in need of much more than some fingering sir. Might I suggest this
instead?" Bill marveled at James' near-telepathic ability to know exactly
what was needed in every situation. Reaching into a bowl of lube on the
coffee table, Bill greased up his cock and then slid it into the glass
tube. Using the pump, he moaned as his cock expanded inside the container,
getting thicker and bigger until it pressed against the sides of the glass
in greasy smears. The angry red color and bulging veins looked and felt so
good.


Meanwhile, James had taken it upon himself to grease up the giant dildo and
stuffed it into Bill's hungry cunt while he was busy with the
pump. Satisfied the massive sex toy was sufficiently submerged in its new
shitty receptacle, James returned to the tray. "Sir, if I may..." he said,
holding up a pair of nipple pumps that Bill hadn't noticed before. Bill
just moaned and nodded, drooling around his clinched cigar while adding
more vacuum pressure to his cock. James grabbed a fold of the Egyptian
cotton shirt covering Bill's pec, and ripped it open, exposing his puffy
nipple. The butler attached the pump to the tit, applying maximum suction
before moving to the left side and repeating the process. Satisfied his
work was finished, he bowed his head briefly and retreated.


Mayor Mike looked at his friend. Fuck, he was sexy, dressed in his
expensive and totally ruined suit, holding his greasy cock-filled penis
pump in one hand and furiously using his other to fuck his shitty cunt with
that massive black dildo. Bill was looking too, admiring the mayor
lustfully playing with his own pump and leaking tits, bouncing up and down
to ensure the hanging 10-pound weight yanked his elongated ballsac even
further. The two best friends sat quietly together, smoking down their
cigars and drinking their cocktails -- lost in their individual gooning
pleasures and shared bate bro company. After about thirty minutes of this,
it was Mike who called out, "James, I believe we are ready for lunch."


The two men shifted around so that they could sit side-by-side on the
leather couch, Bill's leg draped over Mike's as they pressed the sides of
their bodies together. They each slipped off the glass tubes of the vacuum
pumps, releasing their tight, thick, angrily puffed-up cocks back into the
open air. With freshly-greased hands, they reached over and began to slowly
and leisurely jerk their buddy. While they waited for James to arrive with
lunch, they made out as they ministered to each other's cocks, savoring
their spit and snot that they shared freely between them. At last, the
butler arrived and proceeded to climb onto the coffee table. Once
positioned he squatted and stuck out his tight, smooth ass. Both Mike and
Bill leaned in as James' pink asshole began to open and expand, and a thick
hard turd poked out. They took turns licking it as it slowly emerged,
savoring the taste of the butler's earlier full English breakfast. Eight,
nine, ten inches snaked out before it was finally pinched off, dropping
into Bill's waiting hand. "Thank you, James," he said politely. "I think
that will do for now." The butler nodded and dismounted the coffee table,
heading back to the bar to fix some after-lunch drinks for the men.


Bill stuck half the hard log of shit into his mouth, sucking along its
delicious texture. The other half hung lewdly out of his mouth, as he
repositioned himself to face Mike. But the exposed half of shit was only
out in the open for a moment before the mayor inhaled his end. They each
sucked back and forth along the shaft of shit, working it like a whore
giving a dollar blowjob in the parking lot. As their warm mouths softened
the outer layer of the turd, they let the brown slobber run down their
chins and onto their pressed-together fat bellies, Bill's still covered by
his increasingly ruined dress-shirt and jacket. Reaching under their big
stomachs they continued to jack each other off, stroking their taunt cocks,
still puffed and swollen from the long pumping session. As the log
dissolved further under their attentions, the two men brought their lips
together tightly in a perverted shit kiss, each grabbing the other's back
of the head to squeeze their mouths together. Then they both bit down,
severing their shit connection, and began to chew their scatological
lunches. They pulled apart only in order to watch each other chew with
gaping open mouths, swallowing most of the delicious shit but allowing some
to drool out so they could smear it over their faces.


Just as the last of the turds disappeared down their respective throats,
James reappeared with their after-lunch drinks: two tall highball glasses
filled to the brim with warm, foamy piss. The club members stood up as they
took their drinks, while the butler dropped down to his knees. Clinking
their glasses in a "cheers," the two powerful men began chugging the piss
and jacking their cocks hard and fast with their slimy, shitty hands. As
they savored the last drops of James' delicious rank yellow nectar, they
both began moaning louder and louder. "FUCKK YEAH" "AWWW FUCK" "OH FUCK,
FUCK" echoed around the storied walls of The Schweinson Club before they
began shooting their loads all over James' face. The butler offered a rare
smile as blast after blast after blast of hot cum coated his eyes, nose,
mouth, and chin. Mike and Bill panted and groaned, leaning against each
other as they finished draining their stretched balls.


As James stood up, he flicked his tongue around his lips. "Delicious as
always sirs," he declared. "I would be pleased to wear the remainder of
your loads on my face the rest of the day, if that is alright with you
both." Both nodded their ascent, too drained from their powerful cums to do
much else. As the butler walked away, the two men embraced and fell onto
the couch together, Bill still in his ruined suit -- jacket, dress shoes,
and all. In no time at all, they were asleep, napping in each other's arms
on the club's couch. James looked on and smiled from behind the bar. He
would roust them in about an hour he decided. After all, they had a town to
transform.