- Storyteller: I do not believe that we are human beings in search of a spiritual experience. I believe we are spiritual beings in search of a human experience.
- Storyteller: So is it any wonder we ended up in the Pershing Point Hotel? The ville de Bree, the notorious pit of naughtiness, the last stop on the train to nowhere. Home to the strange, the crazed, the lonely, the misfit, the brilliant, the deformed, the sodomite - there were a lot of those. Miss Make Do and I were right at home. We were right at home with Big Tiny, the fat Debache who ran the dump. Right at home with Irvin the mentally slow masturbator who swept the dingy hall. Oh, right at home with Miss Contessa, this wheelchair bound transvestite who stood sentinel at the front entrance and in her drug-induced illusion fancied herself a high-priced call girl. Yes, ma'am. The Pershing Point Hotel housed quite a few shady and unsavory characters, the underbelly of life, and those that inhabit this never-land.