You are walking down a small street in the French Quarter, playing
tourist, camera around your neck, when you see a small, red-painted doorway with a
tarnished sign upon it that says "Webmistress' Lair". You are intrigued (what
could they possibly be selling? More plastic streetcar replicas? Voodoo dolls that are
marked "Made in Taiwan")? You decide to take a chance and enter. You grasp the
huge, wrought-iron ring and slowly pull the door open...
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