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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