Let’s face it: nobody gives a shit what goes on here in Punxsutawney during the rest of the year. Nobody comes here when it’s not February second. It’s as if this place didn’t exist.
Isn’t that the truth?
Once the cameras are off and the reporters go home, we break down and fold up the houses, rolling them back into the abandoned coal mines.
The streets are disassembled, the signs and lampposts packed away, and the robot citizens marched into the storage facilities by the few actual humans.
Close the freeway off-ramp, and… done.
Race you to the cryogenic chambers!