A town where everything comes out perfect because any hour can be replayed until it's right. Outside the town there's a pile of something nobody wants to look at.

Here favors are collected: every one you accept ties a string to your wrist. People walk around tangled and in groups, and the only free man in town has spent thirty years sitting alone.

They land in a red canyon town where everyone shuts their doors as soon as they arrive. A kid asks them how much is left on the record. When the music ends, something comes out.

An auction house where absolutely everything is for sale, whether it's for sale or not. By the time they notice, the booth has a lot number and they don't have a cent on them.

A train that hasn't stopped in generations: people are born, get married and say goodbye on board. Up front there's a door nobody has opened, and their booth is in the last car.

A place where everything exists exactly twice. Five minutes after arriving there are two of them too, and the other two are more likeable.

They get pushed on air as contestants without anyone asking their names. The audience never stops clapping, nobody explains what the prize is, and there's a door at the back of the set that opens by itself.

The needle skips and they get stuck between grooves. In each one they're drawn a different way, and they have to find their own before the record ends.

They discover that someone built the Rocola, and that there's a number engraved on it they never bothered to look at.

The Rocola breaks for real. And it turns out it wasn't the only thing that had been coming together all this time.