m.s. Electra

There are things beneath the sun that no man dreams of. 

But there are more of them beneath the moon. 

When night settles over Jones Valley, there happen strange things, queer things, weird things, that escape even the police. 

 But nothing escapes Conner’s Constables. They see all, hear all.

And thus am I privileged to tell to you the strange story of Vulcan and Electra, the romance of the cast-iron god and the gold-leaf goddess.

 Some of you may call it a fairy tale. And some of you may call it something stronger.

But if you will go to the Fair Grounds and look if you will lift up your eyes and scan the roof of the Alabama Power Building, you can see for yourselves that there stand Vulcan and Electra, just as my story says they are standing, just as my story says they appear—and so I offer you proof positive and care not what you may say.