So every fete started with a grand party and games with heaps of broken and dumped things, as well as exclusive items lost in the Junkyard. As it went, rarity or rubbish meant no difference. Junkers cherished both as true magic artefacts and stored them carefully in their boxes. Their entire world consisted of these boxes, and every Junker dreamt of adding one more to it, thus widening the borders of their world. Adding boxes was the only way of improvement they knew, and today, everyone, from the smallest kid to the most venerable old Junker, rode the wave of joy and excitement.
“It will happen any minute now. The new dump of junk is just about to get sorted!” they quivered with impatience. “Soon our boxes will cover the sun and the skies, and our world will reign everywhere.”
And while Junkers planned their bright future, enjoying the gathering and sorting, their nemesis—Cleaner—stood vigil on guard. He watched the party through the spyglass, noting every picked bauble in his notepad so that later, he could track it down and destroy it. Because this was what his entire world consisted of. This was the only way of improvement he knew.