ooooooooooooo...  fuzzy PWCA...  nice PWCA...
only PWCA make PWCA games
Reach out and take the PWCA's paw. Enter your email to receive messages from beyond the beyond (concerning all future PWCA games).
                PWCA TAXONOMY
         & MYTHOLOGY

A PWCA (pronounced "POOKAH " or "PUCA" or "PHOOKA" or what have you) is more commonly known in Irish lore as a "fairy" or one of the "good people". The PWCA typically resembles a rather large, roughly 6' tall, mischievous rabbit. Most often found lurking in Celtic cultures, stories, dreams, and shrubbery. The PWCA is especially fond of and may occasionally be spotted munching blackberries, having a puff on His pipe, and floating down the streams of consciousness. A PWCA's primary activity concerns hiding in bushes outside pubs and grabbing unsuspecting (and most often inebriated) pub patrons, on their way home from a sip or two or ten. Once the PWCA has you, He cries "I've got your arse, mate"*, and proceeds to whisk you away through endless dimensions outside of time, space, and imagination. For aeons, you will tumble through worlds unknown, take tea with innumerable Theophanies, elude the gleaming jaws of cosmic existential destruction, and defy all possibility, hand-in-paw with your new PWCA friend(?). Once He's tired of dragging you through the endless rabbit hole of a non-existent cosmos, He'll drop you off exactly where He found you, outside your pub, still skunk as a drunk. Good luck explaining that to your significant other! Hmmmm?? "Tea with Theophanies", indeed. 

Here at PWCA, We lovingly craft heretofore unknown and unimaginable dimensions in video game form. Each one of Our games will take you on a trip outside of your terrestrial experience. You will experience sights and sounds the likes of which only the PWCA can provide. And when you are done playing, We'll drop you back off right where We found you. Your friends and family will thank Us. Now go outside and fly a kite, mortal. Just be careful around the greenery. PWCA will be waiting for you. "I've got your arse, mate!"*

                                                                                                                                                                                     *from the mind and tongue of Robert Anton Wilson




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