Two new production packs: THE MORPING HORROR (existential dread, canon from repo) + DEEP GROOVE (70s innuendo comedy, cutaway doctrine)

Co-Authored-By: Claude Fable 5 <noreply@anthropic.com>

production/flow/DEEPGROOVE_PRODUCTION_PACK.md

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+# DEEP GROOVE — production pack
+### A sexy funny 70s odyssey. One man. One envelope of cash. Eleven temptations.
+Leather Goddesses × Leisure Suit Larry × Austin Powers × the sleazy end of the
+record district, 1976. Shag carpet, lava lamps, smoking indoors, wood paneling,
+funny gorgeous women who are all smarter than the hero, and one prototype robot.
+
+## THE FINE LINE — the doctrine (read first, it is the whole tone)
+1. EVERYONE IS ALWAYS FULLY CLOTHED. The 70s did sexy with a collar and a
+   zipper pull, not skin. Jumpsuits, fur, satin, feather boas.
+2. THE CUTAWAY IS THE JOKE. Anything actually racy happens OFF-SCREEN behind a
+   metaphor: the camera pans to the lava lamp. This is a running formal gag —
+   the lava lamp is this game's censor bar. The player learns to dread/love
+   the pan.
+3. INNUENDO LIVES IN THE EDIT, NOT THE PROMPT. Every individual clip we
+   generate is innocent on its own. The engine's sequencing makes the joke.
+   (Also practical: Veo's filter will refuse explicit prompts and repeated
+   refusals risk the abuse throttle. The artistic choice and the safe choice
+   are the same choice.)
+4. The women are never victims or props — they are the competent ones. Duke is
+   the himbo. That's the Austin Powers engine: HE is the joke.
+5. Smoke, incense, haze: everywhere, always. "Herbal" is as specific as we get.
+
+## SETUP
+New Flow project "DEEP GROOVE". Veo 3.1 Fast 16:9 1x, Confirm ALWAYS, agent
+panel closed, Auto-Pilot idle, 2 takes/shot, download everything, ⭐ = Quality.
+Deaths end HELD. Two "Something went wrong" in a row = stop 30 min.
+
+STYLE LINE (70s grade — ends EVERY prompt; [STYLE LINE] below = paste in full):
+"1980s hand-drawn cel animation, thick ink outlines, painterly gouache
+backgrounds, warm amber haze, wood paneling and harvest-gold-and-avocado 1970s
+palette, drifting indoor smoke, film grain. No text, no captions, no watermark;
+all signs, posters and record sleeves are blank or abstract designs with no
+lettering."
+
+## CAST
+
+### DUKE VELVET — the hero (himbo, record store owner)
+PORTRAIT — paste:
+1980s hand-drawn cel animation style, thick confident ink outlines, painterly
+gouache rendering, warm amber rim lighting, subtle film grain. Not
+photorealistic, not 3D, not CGI. A single character portrait, one person only,
+no text. A magnificently confident 1970s record store owner in his 30s: full
+chestnut mustache, feathered hair, burgundy crushed-velvet suit with flared
+trousers, wide-collar shirt open two buttons showing a gold medallion on chest
+hair, platform boots, a toothpick at the corner of a knowing smile that has
+never once been right about anything. Waist-up, plain warm brown background.
+BODY: Full body, same man, mid-strut with one thumb hooked in his belt,
+medallion swinging. Same style, plain background, no text.
+INFO box:
+Struts everywhere, even short distances. Finger-guns as punctuation. Unshakable
+confidence, constantly wrong. Genuinely kind under the polyester. His eyebrows
+do most of his acting. Every woman he meets is smarter than him and he is
+delighted about it.
+WATCH-LIST: mustache never becomes a beard; suit stays burgundy; two buttons
+open, never more; no cigarette in HIS mouth (toothpick only — he quit, it's
+his one discipline).
+
+### VIVIENNE LEATHER — the widow (owns the collection)
+PORTRAIT — paste:
+1980s hand-drawn cel animation style, thick ink outlines, painterly gouache
+rendering, warm amber rim lighting, subtle film grain. Not photorealistic, not
+3D, not CGI. A single character portrait, one person only, no text. A
+devastatingly glamorous widow in her 50s: silver-streaked updo, leopard-print
+wrap dress, long cigarette holder trailing a ribbon of smoke, oversized
+sunglasses pushed up into her hair, a martini glass held like a scepter,
+expression of amused appraisal. Waist-up, plain dark velvet background.
+INFO box:
+Owns her late husband's legendary record collection and the whole room. Speaks
+in slow, amused innuendo that goes entirely over Duke's head. Tests every
+visitor. Respects only sincerity about music. The smoke from her cigarette
+holder curls into shapes that comment on the scene.
+WATCH-LIST: elegant never grotesque; leopard print stays; the smoke ribbon is
+her signature — always present.
+
+### MISS CINNAMON RUSH — rival crate-digger
+PORTRAIT — paste:
+1980s hand-drawn cel animation style, thick ink outlines, painterly gouache
+rendering, warm amber rim lighting, subtle film grain. Not photorealistic, not
+3D, not CGI. A single character portrait, one person only, no text. A sharp
+glamorous 1970s crate-digger in her 20s: halo of feathered auburn hair, mirrored
+aviator sunglasses, tangerine jumpsuit zipped exactly high enough, driving
+gloves, a 45rpm record held like a throwing star, smirk of someone who arrived
+ten minutes ago. Waist-up, plain warm background.
+INFO box:
+Always one step ahead of Duke and enjoys letting him notice. Flips records like
+playing cards. Drives a lime-green muscle car heard before it is seen. Not a
+villain — a professional. Would sooner die than overpay.
+WATCH-LIST: jumpsuit tangerine, zip stays put; gloves on; competence never
+becomes cruelty.
+
+### BIG MAURICE — the kingpin of the strip
+PORTRAIT — paste:
+1980s hand-drawn cel animation style, thick ink outlines, painterly gouache
+rendering, warm amber rim lighting, subtle film grain. Not photorealistic, not
+3D, not CGI. A single character portrait, one person only, no text. An enormous
+serene 1970s nightlife kingpin: floor-length white fur coat over a lilac suit,
+rings on every finger, a cane topped with a crystal globe containing a tiny
+lava lamp, half-closed eyes of a man who has seen everything and approved of
+most of it. Waist-up, plain deep purple background.
+INFO box:
+Owns every establishment on the strip. Moves at one quarter speed. Grants and
+revokes passage with a single raised finger. Collects favors, repays them
+scrupulously. His fur coat has its own weather.
+WATCH-LIST: white fur immaculate; lilac suit; serene never threatening; the
+lava-lamp cane is canon.
+
+### PROFESSOR NORBERT TESLAWAX — the mad inventor
+PORTRAIT — paste:
+1980s hand-drawn cel animation style, thick ink outlines, painterly gouache
+rendering, warm amber rim lighting, subtle film grain. Not photorealistic, not
+3D, not CGI. A single character portrait, one person only, no text. A jittery
+brilliant 1970s inventor in his 60s: gray hair in electrified tufts, jeweler's
+goggles on his forehead, a paisley lab coat over a turtleneck, seven pens in
+the coat pocket, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a cocktail in the
+other. Waist-up, workshop background softly blurred with drifting solder smoke.
+INFO box:
+Runs the hi-fi repair shop on the strip. Builds things the world is not ready
+for and knows it. Fiercely protective of his prototype, whom he treats as a
+daughter and a masterpiece and has completely failed to notice is a person.
+WATCH-LIST: paisley lab coat; goggles UP; cocktail hand never spills; benign
+mad, never sinister.
+
+### CHASSIS — the prototype (the arc)
+PORTRAIT — paste:
+1980s hand-drawn cel animation style, thick ink outlines, painterly gouache
+rendering, warm amber rim lighting, subtle film grain. Not photorealistic, not
+3D, not CGI. A single character portrait, one person only, no text. A 1970s
+prototype domestic robot with an hourglass chrome chassis, brushed-steel
+curves with riveted seams, a glass-domed head containing a softly pulsing
+amber vacuum tube, articulated gloved hands holding a feather duster like a
+scepter, a printed maid-apron decal across the torso, one hip panel slightly
+ajar venting a wisp of steam. Standing with unmistakable poise. Waist-up,
+workshop background softly blurred.
+BODY: Full body, same robot, weight on one hip, feather duster at rest like a
+cane. Same style, no text.
+INFO box:
+Prototype domestic unit, decades ahead of her spec sheet. Dusts things that
+are already clean when thinking. Communicates in vacuum-tube glow, steam
+vents, and precisely timed pauses. Is beginning to want things and has not
+told the Professor. Finds Duke ridiculous. Correct. Finds him endearing.
+Also correct.
+WATCH-LIST: chrome hourglass but always clearly a ROBOT — never humanoid
+skin; the amber tube glow is her face/mood; steam wisps = feelings; apron
+decal printed on, not fabric.
+
+## STORY ARC — one night on the strip
+ACT 1 — THE CALL: Vivienne phones the shop: her late husband's collection
+sells TONIGHT, first sincere buyer wins, Cinnamon is already en route. Duke
+empties the register into one envelope and steps out into the strip.
+ACT 2 — THE GAUNTLET: every establishment between shop and penthouse is a
+temptation with a timer: the head shop haze, the disco floor, the waterbed
+showroom, the fur emporium, Maurice's toll, and Teslawax's repair shop —
+where Duke first meets CHASSIS (she repairs his dropped turntable cartridge
+in four seconds; their eyes/tube meet). The CHASSIS arc threads beats 2a/2b
+between scenes: small rescues, a guard-down moment on the fire escape.
+ACT 3 — THE PENTHOUSE: Vivienne's test, Cinnamon's counter-bid, the sincerity
+gambit, the crate haul home by dolly at dawn — and the docking sequence.
+FIVE COLLECTIBLES (engine's label system): matchbooks from each establishment.
+
+## SHOT LIST — 34 shots (~780cr Fast + 4⭐ ≈ +800cr)
+
+dg_title ⭐ [no characters]
+A neon-soaked 1970s city strip at night in the rain, every sign an abstract
+glowing shape, reflections smearing across a wet street as a lone lava lamp
+glows in a shop window; the camera cranes slowly down from the rooftops to
+street level as smoke drifts from doorways. Sweeping crane shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg_intro [Duke]
+A cozy cluttered 1970s record store at night, wood paneling, amber lamps. Duke
+answers a rotary phone, listens, slowly straightens as the toothpick migrates
+across his mouth, then empties the cash register into a single manila envelope
+and holds it up to the light like a dueling pistol. Slow push-in. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg1_action [Duke]  (stepping onto the strip)
+A neon 1970s strip at night, abstract glowing signs, doorway smoke, scattered
+strutting nightlife silhouettes. Duke steps out of his shop, squares his
+shoulders, and struts down the sidewalk in glorious slow motion, medallion
+swinging in rhythm, as every neon sign he passes flickers appreciatively.
+Tracking shot alongside. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg1_death [Duke]
+A neon strip at night. Duke's slow-motion strut carries him directly into a
+lamppost; he folds around it with dignity, slides down it to a seated
+position, and the toothpick drops. The clip ends held on him seated against
+the post, envelope safe in his raised hand. Static shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg2_action [Duke]  (the head shop — matchbook 1)
+Inside a 1970s head shop dense with drifting incense haze, beaded curtains,
+shelves of glassware, posters that are abstract swirls. Duke wades through
+smoke thick as soup, holding the envelope above his head like a river
+crossing, eyes watering, navigating by squint toward the glowing rear door.
+Hazy tracking shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg2_death [Duke]
+Inside the incense-hazed head shop. Duke inhales to sneeze, holds it heroically
+with a finger under his nose, loses — and the sneeze blows the haze into a
+perfect mushroom cloud that settles over him, leaving a Duke-shaped statue of
+serenity sitting cross-legged on the floor, smiling faintly, going nowhere
+ever again. The clip ends held on the serene statue. Static shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg3_action [Duke]  (the disco floor)
+A packed 1970s disco with an illuminated checkerboard dance floor pulsing in
+sequence, mirror ball constellations. Duke crosses the floor timing his
+strides to the lit tiles, pointing finger-guns left and right in rhythm, as
+dancers spin around him in feathered silhouette. Rhythmic wide shot.
+[STYLE LINE]
+
+dg3_death [Duke]
+A packed disco, pulsing floor. Duke missteps onto an unlit tile; the entire
+floor freezes, the music needle-scratches to silence, every dancer turns to
+look at him, and the mirror ball's spotlight finds him alone and stays there
+as he slowly finger-guns in apology to a silent room. The clip ends held in
+the spotlight. Static wide. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg4_action [Duke]  (the waterbed showroom — matchbook 2)
+A 1970s waterbed showroom, rows of undulating beds under swagged velvet
+canopies, mirror tiles on the ceiling. Duke crosses the room by stepping from
+waterbed to waterbed, riding each slow wave like a surfer, arms out, envelope
+in his teeth. Bouncing tracking shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg4_death [Duke]
+A waterbed showroom. One overloaded waterbed ruptures in majestic slow motion
+and the wave carries Duke on its crest across the showroom and out the front
+door onto the sidewalk, where he comes to rest perfectly dry-haired in the
+gutter, envelope held aloft, one shoe gone. The clip ends held on the raised
+envelope. Slow-motion wide. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg5_action ⑂ [Duke + Big Maurice]  (the toll)
+A velvet-roped doorway on the neon strip. Big Maurice occupies the entire
+doorframe in his white fur; Duke produces, with escalating desperation: a
+handshake, a finger-gun, a business card, and finally a mint 45rpm record
+from inside his jacket — and Maurice's single raised finger slowly transforms
+into a beckoning one. Two-shot, low angle on Maurice. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg5_death [Duke]
+A velvet-roped doorway. Duke attempts to duck under the velvet rope itself;
+the rope, apparently sentient, tangles him with the efficiency of a bolas
+until he hangs cocooned in velvet at knee height, swaying gently, envelope
+still gripped in one protruding hand. The clip ends held on the slow sway.
+Static shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg6_action ⑂ [Duke + Professor Teslawax]  (the repair shop)
+A cluttered 1970s hi-fi repair workshop, oscilloscope glow, solder smoke.
+Duke's dropped turntable cartridge is snatched mid-fall by a gloved chrome
+hand from off-frame and returned to him repaired in four seconds; the
+Professor beams with paternal pride toward the off-screen helper while Duke
+stares past him, toothpick falling from his open mouth. Two-shot.
+[STYLE LINE]
+
+dg6b_beat ⑂⭐ [Duke + Chassis]  (first sight — the tension begins)
+The repair workshop, amber tube-glow. CHASSIS polishes an already-immaculate
+amplifier, sees Duke, and pauses mid-circle; her dome tube pulses once,
+brighter; a single wisp of steam escapes her hip vent; Duke attempts to lean
+casually on a shelf that is farther away than he thought and recovers almost
+instantly. Neither looks away. Slow mutual push-in. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg6_death [Duke]
+The repair workshop. Duke, showing off, plugs two cables together to help;
+every device in the workshop powers on at once at full volume, and the
+combined blast of twelve speakers pins him flat against the corkboard wall
+like a poster of himself, where he remains, fluttering slightly. The clip
+ends held on the Duke poster. Static wide. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg7_action [Duke]  (the fur emporium — matchbook 3)
+A 1970s fur emporium, racks of enormous coats forming plush canyons. Duke
+squeezes sideways through the fur racks holding the envelope overhead; the
+coats close in behind him like soft surf as he spelunks toward the glowing
+exit sign shape. Claustrophobic plush tracking shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg7_death [Duke]
+A fur emporium. The rack Duke brushes shivers, then avalanches: a slow soft
+tsunami of fur coats engulfs him completely; the pile settles, luxurious and
+still, with one hand emerging from the plush holding the envelope, medallion
+draped over the wrist. The clip ends held on the hand. Static wide.
+[STYLE LINE]
+
+dg8_beat ⑂⭐ [Duke + Chassis]  (the fire escape — guard down)
+A rusty fire escape above the neon strip at night, city glow below. CHASSIS
+sits with surprising grace on the steps, feather duster idle; Duke sits one
+step down, jacket around his shoulders; her dome tube dims to a low candle
+warmth as she turns it toward the skyline, and one gloved chrome finger
+absently polishes a single bolt on the railing, over and over; Duke, for
+once, says nothing at all. Held two-shot, gentle push-in. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg9_action ⑂ [Duke + Miss Cinnamon Rush]  (the rival arrives)
+The neon strip at night. A lime-green muscle car slides to the curb in a
+whisper of tire smoke; Cinnamon steps out without breaking stride, flipping a
+45 record across her knuckles, and blows past Duke into the building lobby,
+patting his cheek once in passing; Duke stands revolving slowly like a
+turntable. Tracking shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg9_death [Duke]
+A building lobby with a brass elevator. Duke sprints for the closing elevator
+containing a smirking unseen occupant, dives, and the doors close precisely
+on his outstretched envelope hand; the dial above ticks up floor by floor
+with his arm still in the doors, Duke dangling from it with immense dignity.
+The clip ends held mid-dangle. Static shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg10_action ⑂⭐ [Duke + Vivienne Leather]  (the penthouse test)
+A 1970s penthouse: white shag carpet deep as snow, conversation pit, a wall
+of thousands of records, smoke ribbons. Vivienne circles Duke with her
+cigarette holder trailing script in the air; Duke, sinking to his shins in
+shag with each step, ignores the martini offered to him and instead kneels
+reverently at the record wall, pulling one sleeve and holding it like
+scripture. Vivienne's eyebrow rises one millimeter: the test is passed.
+Elegant orbiting shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg10_death [Duke]
+A penthouse with deep white shag carpet. Duke takes one over-confident stride
+into the DEEP end of the shag and sinks smoothly to his chest as into
+quicksand, continuing to make relaxed conversation with perfect confidence
+until only the medallion, one hand, and the envelope remain above the pile.
+The clip ends held on the medallion resting on the carpet surface. Static
+wide. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg11_action ⑂ [Duke + Miss Cinnamon Rush]  (the bidding duel)
+The penthouse conversation pit. Duke and Cinnamon face off across a marble
+coffee table, slapping down escalating offers: her banded cash, his envelope,
+her car keys, his shop keys, her sunglasses — until Duke, cornered, slaps
+down the mint 45 from his jacket and his own medallion, and the room goes
+still. Cinnamon studies him, then slow-claps once. Intercut close-ups.
+[STYLE LINE]
+
+dg_docking ⭐ [no characters — THE CUTAWAY MONTAGE, the legend itself]
+Generate as SIX separate 3-4s clips, edited in sequence by the engine. Each
+prompt is innocent alone; the audience's mind is the twelfth man:
+  d1: A gleaming retro spacecraft aligns with a rotating space station and
+      docks gently, in stately slow motion, to swelling imaginary waltz
+      music, warm light flooding the connection point. [STYLE LINE]
+  d2: A 1970s steam train enters a mountain tunnel at confident speed;
+      the tunnel mouth puffs one perfect smoke ring. [STYLE LINE]
+  d3: A champagne cork eases from a bottle in extreme slow motion, pauses,
+      then departs with jubilant foam. [STYLE LINE]
+  d4: Two lava lamp blobs, amber and rose, drift toward each other inside
+      one lamp, merge into a single larger blob, and pulse contentedly.
+      [STYLE LINE]
+  d5: A vintage toaster trembles with rising intensity, then launches two
+      slices of toast into the air in triumphant slow motion; butter
+      applauds. [STYLE LINE]
+  d6: Fireworks bloom over a 1970s city skyline, reflected in the glass of
+      an apartment window with the curtains drawn and one warm lamp glowing
+      behind them. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg_morningafter ⑂ [Duke + Chassis]
+A workshop at soft dawn light. Duke's velvet suit is immaculate but his
+medallion chain is inexplicably knotted; CHASSIS's chrome is polished to
+mirror finish and her dome tube glows a steady sunrise amber; she vents one
+perfect steam ring, which drifts across frame; Duke watches it go with the
+expression of a man rethinking his entire cosmology. The clip ends held on
+the drifting ring. Static two-shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg_win ⭐ [Duke]
+The neon strip at dawn, lights going out one by one. Duke wheels a hand
+dolly stacked six crates high of records down the middle of the empty street
+in triumphant slow motion, medallion restored, as the establishments' signs
+dim behind him and the sun crests between buildings, gilding the crates like
+treasure. The clip ends held on the silhouette. Wide tracking shot.
+[STYLE LINE]
+
+dg_gameover [Duke]
+The record store interior at dawn, lights off. The rotary phone rings and
+rings; the shop stands empty; through the front window, out on the strip, a
+lime-green muscle car cruises past with six crates of records strapped to
+the roof, a tangerine-sleeved arm giving the store a small gracious wave.
+The clip ends held on the ringing phone. Static interior shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg_stinger ⑂ [Professor Teslawax + Chassis]
+The repair workshop at dawn. The Professor examines CHASSIS's diagnostics on
+an oscilloscope, taps the screen, frowns at readings he has never seen, and
+turns to her; she stands at the window watching the strip below with her
+tube glowing that steady sunrise amber, absently dusting a moonbeam. He
+looks at his clipboard, writes one long note, and underlines it twice. The
+clip ends held on the underline motion. Static two-shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg_attract [no characters]
+Loopable: the neon strip at night in light rain, abstract signs pulsing
+slowly, one shop window glowing warm with a lava lamp and a spinning record
+visible inside, smoke drifting across from a doorway. Nothing else happens.
+Static shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+dg_needleskip [no characters]
+The neon strip scene judders violently sideways twice like a skipping
+record, tearing and repeating, then snaps to black. One-second transition,
+no people. [STYLE LINE]
+
+## THE CHASSIS ARC — engine mapping (build later)
+dg6b (first sight) → dg8 (fire escape, guard down) → post-dg11: choice window
+"return to the workshop / go straight home" — the workshop path plays
+dg_docking (the six-clip montage with waltz audio) → dg_morningafter → then
+dg_win with Chassis riding the top crate (re-shoot variant when we next have
+credits). The montage clips double as needle-skip-grade transitions
+elsewhere. Matchbook collectibles use the engine label system unchanged.

production/flow/MORPINGHORROR_PRODUCTION_PACK.md

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+# THE MORPING HORROR — production pack (FMV existential horror, played straight)
+### The sequel that sucked, remade as the game it always should have been.
+
+Premise (from the real repo, themorpinghorror/DESIGN.md on ultra — this is canon):
+The deadest Tuesday of the year. The boss is away, the shop is yours, and there
+is only one rule: NEVER LET THE SIDE RUN OUT. Mid-morning the shop record runs
+out — click, click, click — and the shop floor stops pretending to be a retail
+layout. The aisles loop. A dead mastering engineer (Wal) has been etching
+messages into the dead wax since 1977. The white label (MP-003, pressed 1977,
+never played) reads different every time you look. And the thing in the
+listening booth wearing your face is a take of YOU that got pressed and never
+released. Deadstock. Still a comedy. Morp is not cruel; Morp is accurate.
+
+Tone: existential dread with deadpan comedy — Kentucky Route Zero meets a
+closing shift. NOT jump-scare gore. The horror is repetition, fluorescent hum,
+and being sealed mint. Deaths are quiet and awful and slightly funny.
+
+STAR: DEZ (import both RSG cards — dez_portrait, dez_body — as "Dez").
+Continuity is the point: this is what happened to him on a Tuesday.
+Also import MILDRED's card. The cat is the one rule of humanity that remains.
+
+## SETUP (same as every shoot)
+New Flow project "THE MORPING HORROR". Veo 3.1 Fast 16:9 1x, Confirm ALWAYS,
+agent panel closed, Auto-Pilot idle, 2 takes per shot, download everything,
+⭐ = Veo Quality. Deaths end HELD. Two consecutive "Something went wrong" =
+stop 30 min (abuse throttle).
+
+STYLE LINE (horror variant — ends EVERY prompt, never abbreviate):
+"1980s hand-drawn cel animation, thick ink outlines, painterly gouache
+backgrounds, cold flickering fluorescent light, drained desaturated palette
+with sickly green shadows, heavy film grain. No text, no captions, no
+watermark; all signs, posters and record sleeves are blank or abstract designs
+with no lettering."
+
+## NEW CAST (2 cards + 2 imports)
+
+### WAL — the dead mastering engineer
+PORTRAIT — paste:
+1980s hand-drawn cel animation style, thick ink outlines, painterly gouache
+rendering, cold flickering fluorescent light, drained desaturated palette,
+heavy film grain. Not photorealistic, not 3D, not CGI. A single character
+portrait, one person only, no text. The ghost of a 1970s mastering engineer:
+a stooped older man in a brown cardigan and safety glasses, magnifying loupe
+pushed up on his forehead, faintly translucent at the edges like a double
+exposure, lit from below by the glow of a record lathe, expression of patient
+unfinished business. Waist-up, dark workshop background softly blurred.
+INFO box:
+Has been etching messages into the dead wax since 1977. Never hurries, never
+blinks, points at grooves with a worn stylus. Not malevolent — he has a note
+for you, and eternity to deliver it. Appears reflected in vinyl before he
+appears in rooms.
+WATCH-LIST: translucent DOUBLE-EXPOSURE edges, never a white bedsheet ghost;
+cardigan brown; loupe stays on forehead; kindly-tired, never menacing.
+
+### THE DEADSTOCK DOUBLE — the take of Dez that was never released
+CARD — paste (attach dez_portrait as image reference when generating):
+1980s hand-drawn cel animation style, thick ink outlines, painterly gouache
+rendering, cold flickering fluorescent light, drained desaturated palette,
+heavy film grain. Not photorealistic, not 3D, not CGI. A single character
+portrait, one person only, no text. A lanky 20-something record store clerk
+with a tall messy black quiff, open red flannel shirt, black t-shirt and
+silver headphones around his neck — but WRONG: colors slightly faded like a
+second-generation dub, posture too still, head tilted two degrees, a smile
+that arrives a half-second late, eyes that do not track together. Standing
+inside a dim listening booth behind glass. Waist-up.
+INFO box:
+A take that got pressed and never released. Mimics Dez with a half-second
+delay. Wants to be the released version. Never blinks when Dez blinks. Its
+booth glass fogs from the inside.
+WATCH-LIST: identical wardrobe to Dez but FADED; the wrongness is timing and
+stillness, never gore/monster features; always behind or near glass.
+
+## SHOT LIST — 30 shots (~700cr Fast + 4⭐ ≈ +800cr)
+
+mh_title ⭐ [no characters]
+A dead suburban shopping strip at dawn, one record shop lit inside, absolute
+stillness, a single fluorescent tube flickering in rhythm like a slow
+heartbeat; the camera pushes toward the shop door for a long unbroken moment
+and the door drifts open on its own an inch. The clip ends held on the ajar
+door. Slow push-in. 1980s hand-drawn cel animation, thick ink outlines,
+painterly gouache backgrounds, cold flickering fluorescent light, drained
+desaturated palette with sickly green shadows, heavy film grain. No text, no
+captions, no watermark; all signs, posters and record sleeves are blank or
+abstract designs with no lettering.
+
+mh_intro ⭐ [Dez]
+Inside a cluttered record store on a dead morning, drained colorless light.
+Dez lounges bored behind the counter as a record spins on the shop turntable;
+the record reaches its end and the needle clicks in the runout — click, click,
+click — and with each click the store's colors drain further and the aisles
+in the background quietly rearrange. Dez slowly looks up. Static wide,
+imperceptibly pushing in. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh1_action [Dez]  (the first loop)
+Inside the drained record store, aisles stretching too long. Dez walks
+briskly down an aisle toward the back door, passes the same handwritten sale
+divider twice, stops, backs up, looks at it, and RUNS — the aisle scrolling
+past him repeating like a looped background. Tracking shot alongside.
+[STYLE LINE]
+
+mh1_death [Dez]
+Inside the drained record store. Dez keeps running down the looping aisle as
+it repeats faster and faster until he is running in place like a locked
+groove, slowing, winding down like a turntable losing power, coming to rest
+mid-stride, a still frame of a man. The clip ends held on his stopped frame.
+Static shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh2_action [Dez]  (the hum)
+Inside the drained store, the overhead fluorescent tubes flicker in sequence
+down the aisle toward Dez like something approaching along the ceiling; he
+ducks behind a record crate and clamps both hands over his mouth as the
+flicker passes over him, dust falling in the strobing light. Low tense shot.
+[STYLE LINE]
+
+mh2_death [Dez]
+Inside the drained store. The traveling fluorescent flicker stops directly
+above Dez's hiding spot; his shadow on the floor stands up by itself and
+walks away without him, and Dez stares at the empty floor where it was. The
+clip ends held on his shadowless feet. Static shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh3_action [Dez]  (the white label lies)
+Close on Dez's hands holding a pure white-sleeved record under the counter
+lamp; he slides the record out, examines the runout groove, tilts it against
+the light, and the etched scratches in the dead wax visibly REARRANGE
+themselves as abstract marks while he watches, his reflection in the vinyl
+lagging behind his movement. Macro close-up. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh3_death [Dez]
+Close on the spinning white label record on the turntable; Dez leans in to
+read the runout and his reflection in the black vinyl reaches up out of the
+disc, takes hold of his collar, and draws him gently down INTO the groove
+spiral; the platter keeps turning, unbothered. The clip ends held on the
+spinning record. Macro shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh4_action [Dez + Wal]  ⑂(Omni Flash)  (first contact)
+The drained record store's repair bench. In the reflection on a stack of
+shrink-wrapped records, Wal the translucent engineer stands beside Dez,
+pointing patiently at a groove with a worn stylus; Dez wheels around to an
+empty room, turns back, and Wal is now on BOTH sides of the reflection.
+Static uneasy shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh4_death [Dez]
+The repair bench. Dez leans so close to the reflective shrink-wrap that his
+breath fogs it; the fog does not fade — it spreads over the whole frame like
+shrink film tightening, wrapping the entire image with Dez inside it, and the
+scene becomes a sealed mint record of itself. The clip ends held on the
+sealed image. Static shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh5_action [Dez]  (the side must not run out)
+The shop turntable in drained light, the tonearm nearing the runout; Dez
+vaults the counter in desperate silence, drops to his knees, and drops the
+needle back to the outer groove with surgical care as color briefly floods
+back into the store around him like a held breath released. Slow-motion dive,
+then stillness. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh5_death [Dez]
+The shop turntable. Dez lunges for the tonearm and misses; the needle enters
+the runout — click — and on each click the store JUMPS one frame darker, Dez
+frozen mid-lunge in successively darker exposures like film frames burning
+down, until only the turntable is lit. The clip ends held on the click-lit
+turntable. Static strobing shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh6_action [Dez + Mildred]  ⑂(Omni Flash)  (the one rule of humanity)
+The drained store's back room. Mildred the fat gray tabby sits precisely
+where her bowl should be, staring at Dez; he searches empty shelves in rising
+panic, finds one dented tin rolled under a crate, and pours it out; as she
+eats, warm color spreads outward from the cat in a soft circle like a
+campfire. Warm-centered wide shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh6_death [Dez + Mildred]  ⑂
+The drained back room. Dez reaches for the cat food tin but the shelf
+recedes from his hand, the room stretching longer with each grab; Mildred
+watches him recede down the endless room, slow-blinks once, and looks away.
+The clip ends held on Mildred's turned head, Dez tiny in the distance.
+Static shot from behind the cat. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh7_action [Dez + The Deadstock Double]  ⑂⭐  (the booth)
+The listening booth in the drained store, fogged glass. Dez wipes the fog
+and finds himself already inside, wearing his face a half-second late; the
+Double raises its hand exactly as Dez raises his, palm to palm through the
+glass, and then the Double's smile arrives after Dez has stopped smiling.
+Slow push-in over Dez's shoulder into the reflection. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh7_death [The Deadstock Double]
+The listening booth from inside, looking out through fogged glass. The
+Double, wearing Dez's clothes crisply now in full color, adjusts the
+headphones around ITS neck, gives the glass a courteous nod, and walks off
+into the shop leaving the viewer behind in the booth as the fog closes over
+the glass. The clip ends held on the fogged glass. Static POV shot.
+[STYLE LINE]
+
+mh8_action [Dez + Wal]  ⑂⭐  (the message, the word to cut)
+Wal's workshop, materialized in the store's back room: a record lathe glowing
+warm amber in the drained world. Translucent Wal guides Dez's hand to the
+cutting head, and together they cut ONE deliberate abstract mark into the
+dead wax of the white label as sparks of light lift off the groove like
+fireflies. Reverent close-up. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh8_death [Dez]
+The lathe workshop. Dez cuts the mark alone, without waiting, and the
+cutting head skates — the whole room SKIPS like a scratched record, three
+frames of the room stuttering back and forth with Dez caught mid-motion in
+each, then settles on an empty room, the lathe still turning. The clip ends
+held on the empty room. Stuttering static shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh9_win ⭐ [Dez + Mildred]  ⑂
+The record store as the etched white label plays: with each revolution color
+pours back aisle by aisle, the fluorescents steady, the aisles walk back
+into place ashamed of themselves, and Dez slides down the counter to the
+floor as Mildred climbs onto his lap uninvited; through the window,
+Tuesday's light finally moves. Long-held warm wide shot. The clip ends held
+on the two of them. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh_gameover [The Deadstock Double]
+A bright, fully-colored, cheerful record store. The Double, crisp and
+saturated, serves an unseen customer with a perfect smile that arrives
+exactly on time now; only in the fogged listening-booth glass behind it is
+there the faint outline of a figure with both palms on the inside of the
+glass. The clip ends held with the smile in front and the palms behind.
+Static wide shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh_stinger [Mildred]
+The restored colorful store at closing, warm light. Mildred sits on the
+counter beside the white-labeled record, staring at the listening booth in
+the background for a long moment, then turns to the camera and does not
+blink for the entire remainder of the clip. The clip ends held on her stare.
+Slow imperceptible push-in. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh_attract [no characters]
+Loopable: the drained record store at rest, one fluorescent tube flickering
+in slow heartbeat rhythm, a record spinning silently on the shop turntable
+with the tonearm hovering just above the runout, dust motes hanging
+motionless. Nothing else happens. Static shot. [STYLE LINE]
+
+mh_needleskip [no characters]
+The drained store scene judders violently sideways twice like a skipping
+record, tearing and repeating with horizontal displacement, then snaps to
+black. One-second transition, no people. [STYLE LINE]
+
+NOTE: [STYLE LINE] above = paste the full horror style line from the top of
+this doc every time. It is written out once to keep this file printable; when
+pasting into Flow, ALWAYS replace [STYLE LINE] with the complete sentence.
+
+## ENGINE MAPPING (build phase, later)
+Loops = the replay-queue + mirrorOk systems reskinned as the maze; the "side
+running out" = a global timer that forces a return-to-turntable scene every N
+scenes (new mechanic, small); the word-to-cut = white-label collect chain;
+mh_gameover replaces the standard game-over. Deaths here are quiet — DEATH_HOLD
+doubles to 1.2s for this title.