Down a dark street, littered with discarded beer cans and cigarette butts, in the heart of the red light district((Or, it would be the red light district, if all the bulbs hadn't long since burnt out or been stolen)) of Squat hole, there's a building. Behind the huge hedge of stinging nettles wrapping the entire block, the building can be seen in all it's glory. The lawn is dry and brown, the shutters need repainting, but it still seems in better repair than most of the surrounding houses. In lieu of a door, there's only a beaded curtain, and a warm, welcoming light leaking through.

Through that doorway lie all manner of carnal delights for the enjoyment of weary travellers, ((Assuming those travellers don't mind squeaky voices and two-day beard-stubble))((And those are just the women))for the low, low price of just two cigs, courtesy of

===Julia's Squat Squeezes===

For the price, you get a lengthy, private session with one of the denizens of that smoky lair, and absolute discretion about your choice and preferences. You can choose from four men, and four women, all equally skilled in the. . .relaxation arts.((It is still unclear as to why none of them are birds OR bees.))

If you visit all eight patrons enough times, [[Julia]] may deign to "Stop by and see what all the fuss is about". Rumor has it that, if you manage to satisfy Julia herself, then you may gain entry to the Watcher's private cabin on the failboat, for an "easier way of getting charm and favor"((Woe to the poor fool who attempts this.  She shows you her summer vacation slides.))