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Once upon a time, there were people who never saw the sun. They worked at night. Courageously, they slaved their asses off for a miserable pay at the airport. On the airfield they were known as the aircraft cleaners. They were owned by a malicious Danish corporation, A.S.S., Alternative Service Solutions. Rumors about their CEO (Chief Executive Officer) were running wild among aircraft cleaners. As the rumor had it, the CEO had a rocking chair at home, and the chair was made of aircraft cleaners, and he would rock in his rocking chair, singing scary, cheery Danish drinking songs. For a long time, the graveyard shifters had been wondering where their workmates would disappear in the dead of the night. They started to fear for their own lives. This is their story.
And so a thick mist descends over the airfield in a small hours of the night. Everything turns orange far off, in the glowing floodlights All sounds die, only silence remains.In a misty weather like this, even the airport division don't venture onto the airfield, because the mist conjures up the spirits of former aircraft cleaners, thirsty for revenge, cussing their former employer, hovering in the air.Only the aircraft cleaners are at work, unware of the events, because you don't have to tell them anything, anything, anything...