Deja Vu: A Nightmare Comes True

Reviewed by Sho (June 16, 2008)

Even after regaining consciousness your mind seems hopelessly lost in an inky void, like thick molasses drowned in a bitter cup of black coffee and poured all over a lonely asphalt street on a moonless night. The merciless glare of lights overhead sting your protesting eyes like a swarm of angry, switchblade-winged hornets when it begins to dawn that you’ve woken up in a seedy bar’s even seedier toilet stall – and you have no idea how you got here, why you’re covered in dried blood, or even who you are. But this is no time for ridiculously cheesy monologues – there’s a body upstairs suffering from a serious case of lead poisoning and Chicago’s finest are already out for your head, assuming what’s left of your brain doesn’t do itself in first.