The festering sludge of irradiated industrial waste oozed from its containment and soaked into the rot of a trash pile. It emits the same yellow-green florescence and misty vapors as the secret potion the black cat used to revive our friend and fuck-buddy Roadthrill. The strange mix of broken electronics, scrap metal, a few dead hooker’s rotten limbs, long outgrown toys, and the rotten organic soup of old foods mixed and merged with the mutation inducing sludge… Innocent as any newborn monster she rose from the things unwanted naive and curious.

Meet Amalgam, the trash golem. An animated pile of garbage with no idea what the hell is going on, and a strength far beyond her unwitting comprehension. Alive among the bustle of this broken, ruined society and all of it’s inanimate meaningless refuse and leftovers. Free like a child to wander and wonder and fall on her knees and feel pain.

“Why?” She asks up at the bright smog hazed sky; nothing answers back. Because not even God knows the answer.