Welcome to Atomic City. A spooky and isolated mountain town, with more scares per square inch than anywhere else in the world. Discover a place where cutting edge science walks hand-in-hand with horror, and mind-blowing technology is indistinguishable from rip-roaring terror. UFO cults, wicked witches, wayward werewolves—vampires, zombies, and aliens—all have a home in Atomic City. And these are their stories.
In this very special inaugural installment, there’s an evil dummy on the loose, and he has murdering on his mind. What connects a brilliant physicist who accidentally blew up his wife in a science experiment, a family of four whose father is struggling with alcoholism, and a sentient dummy with an appetite for bloodshed?
Is it just a common love of ventriloquy, or is there something more sinister afoot?
In this terrifying tale, some dummies will live and other dummies will die. And behind it all, a struggle to control the minds of everyone on Earth.
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Behold, I am Michael Ray Laemmle. I hail from the hearty town of Atomic City, New Mexico.
Birthplace of the Atomic Bomb, and home to the elementary school where the Nuclear Age went to kindergarten. Also just up the road from the restaurant in Santa Fe that claims to have invented the breakfast burrito – but that can’t be, can it? A breakfast burrito is just eggs, potato, cheese, and chili. Was it really invented in New Mexico in like 1930, as the guy claims? That literally makes no sense to me.
Sounds like the guy was just taking credit for something that was around basically forever. I’m not knocking the guy. I like the restaurant he founded too. I often eat there to this day. And maybe he did think it up on his own and genuinely believed he had invented it. Just like Charles Darwin and the theory of evolution, which originally belonged to ancient Greek philosopher Anaximander of Miletus (way to steal theories from a dead guy, Chuck D).
Oh, and apparently Judy Blume used to live here too, back in the 1970s or something. She thought it was boring. Which, hey, fair enough. She even wrote a book that takes place in town, Tiger Eyes, which nobody ever talks about. Weird, right? You’d think that would be part of the town’s lore. Maybe it stunk. You almost never hear it mentioned in the same breath as Ain’t Ya There, Egads? It’s Me Margaret, and I’m Menstruating.