“▢▢▢▢ ▢▢▢” you grumble, using a folk saying from your home.

“Fantastic deals, 25 percent off,” you grumble to yourself in English with a thick ▢▢ian brogue.

Presently, a cheer rises among the passengers. The captain has announced that the ship is halfway across the Atlantic. Yes, this means everything has changed: You and your fellow voyagers are no longer filthy, unwanted emigrants, but filthy, unwanted immigrants. Immigrants bound for America. You smile in spite of yourself.

You think about home. There’s not much to think, really. You grew up on a dust lot in rural ▢▢ia where the soil is so dry that hot dogs were all your mother and father could farm.

You think about your mother and father. They loved you and your brother ▢▢-▢ dearly, but as soon as your aptitude for English words became clear, you had no say in the matter; when you turned 14, they packed you onto a ship, forced some premium beef dogs into the captain’s hand, and said, “▢▢▢, ▢▢▢▢▢,” a folk saying that roughly translates as “To America, my man, and step on it.”

And now here you are.

You think about nothing for a while.

Soon, a cheer rises among the passengers. The captain has just announced that the ship is halfway across the Atlantic. Yes, this means everything has changed: You and your shipmates are no longer emigrants, but immigrants. Immigrants bound for America. You smile in spite of yourself.

You turn to your neighbors and say, “Let’s go, Yankees.” They stare blankly back at you.

You say, “Let’s go, Yankees” again, this time half-singing it to the melody your mother taught you. The man on the right responds timidly, “Let’s go, Yankees.”

You sing, “Let’s go, Yankees” again and again and again. The Swedes join in. Some of your neighbors, who know the song, join in. Soon, the entire steerage deck is singing, “Let’s go, Yankees” at the top of their lungs.

The din reaches a deafening height. Finally, from some trapdoor hidden in the ship’s deck, Yankee great Yogi Berra appears and waves to everyone. You wave back at him and are surprised to find yourself crying tears of joy.

After a few seconds, Yogi Berra returns to wherever he emerged from.

The ship churns on across the Atlantic. You gaze silently back at its wake. You are about to begin a new life. You are about to...

You disembark at Ellis Island, the very origin of this land of infinity, where every possibility is possible and every option is an option! America the beautiful, they always say, and today, for you, it’s true.

You are standing on the dock at Ellis Island. What do you choose to do?

There it is. You didn’t expect it to be so big.

What now?

You go into the big building. Inside is a winding labyrinth, the first of many tests that immigrants must complete. With great difficulty, you make your way through the maze.

You nervously approach the stern-looking officer.

“Name,” he barks.

“Spelled with a square? No, no, that’s disgusting for me to say and listen to. You must not keep that squaremouth name in America. You must change it to a proper American name. Any ideas?”

“That’s even worse. I don’t have time for this,” the officer sighs. “Your new name is Cthulhu Yachtsman. Here are your papers.”

He scribbles your new name, hands you your identification papers, and points into the river outside Ellis Island. “Get out of my sight, you blubbering squaremouth.”

“Someone already took that one. I don’t have time for this,” the officer sighs. “Your new name is Cthulhu Yachtsman. Here are your papers.”

He scribbles your new name, hands you your identification papers, and points into the river outside Ellis Island. “Get out of my sight, you blubbering squaremouth.”

You swim to shore and arrive in downtown New York City! The buzz and thrum of big biz and good fun is all around you. You can’t help but notice how many opportunities there are for someone willing to work hard.

In fact, you can think of six opportunities off the top of your head.

You are in downtown New York City! The buzz and thrum of big biz and good fun is all around you. You can’t help but notice how many opportunities there are for someone willing to work hard.

In fact, you can think of six opportunities off the top of your head.

You say, “Let’s go, Yankees,” and immediately everyone joins in.

As the “Let’s go, Yankees” cheer reaches an earsplitting volume, Yankee great Yogi Berra suddenly falls from a nearby window, waves at everyone, and plummets through the ground, leaving no trace. People turn to one another and make remarks like “Well, New York City!”

Yankee Stadium. The baseball cathedral. You can hear the thunderous sounds of strikeouts and a man bellowing “Hot dogs!” emanating from within.

Baseball is famous the world over, but you’ve never seen a game.

You enter the stadium.

A boy turns to you. “Want to watch the ballgame with me?”

“I know. But I’m not him. Want to watch the ballgame?”

You settle in and watch baseball.

There is a lot of it.

You’ve had enough baseball for now. Before you go, you say something to the boy:

“Oh, my name? It’s George.” He pauses a moment for effect. “George Clooney.”

“I’m Cthulhu,” you say, waving goodbye.

As you leave Yankee Stadium, you wonder where life will take George Clooney. And, of course, you wonder where life will take you, now that you have seen baseball.

“Let’s go, Yankees,” the boy responds cheerfully.

Just then, a man you thought was a hot dog vendor turns to you and waves. It’s Yankee great Yogi Berra. He waves at the two of you for a few seconds before going back to shouting “Hot dogs!” louder than should be possible.

It keeps happening.

Baseball happens again and again in front of you for a long time.

You find Coney Island in a state of great excitement. You ask around to find out why and discover that a hot dog eating contest is scheduled for today.

You approach the source of the excitement. The rabid crowd is eager to take part in one of the many contests that happen every day on Coney Island.

You inspect the dogs. There are very few. This would be a mere snack for a ▢▢ian like you.

As you linger, a bystander warns you to be careful about joining this contest; these contests are run by the Mob.

It’s the owner of Coney Island.

“Well, kid, you won the contest, but now you owe me big time for all those hot dogs. And when you owe me, that means you owe the Mob. You owe the Mob a lot of money.”

“Money? Kid, it’s that popular rock. Collectible tokens signed by the president of the Union. Everybody needs it, and everybody wants it.”

He sighs.

“If you haven’t even heard of money, you’ll have to come with me to meet the big boss.”

The owner of Coney Island takes you into the back of the store to meet the boss, an imposing man who goes by the name of N.Y.C. Police.

“So, you’re the one who ate too many hot dogs, are you?” he says. “I ought to send you back to…where are you from?”

“What?! You’re a ▢▢ian kid, born in ▢▢, just like me? Why didn’t you say so? Well, you sure can eat hot dogs like a squaremouth, ha ha! Your debts are all forgiven.”

N.Y.C. Police beams at you. “Cthulhu Police, you will be my adopted child.”

The owner of Coney Island nods in approval.

You ascend the vertical cables to Uptown. Everything is silent up here. The sound of downtown is far, far away. No one speaks to you.

You can only hear the rush of the wind. The people here just sit and eat.

They sit and eat. No one acknowledges you.

Finally, someone turns to you and calls you a slippery squaremouth. It’s nice that he talked to you, at least, but you sense you are not welcome here.

You are outside the factory.

You enter the factory. The very first person you meet is a friendly-looking person who introduces herself as the boss.

You introduce yourself as Cthulhu Yachtsman.

“It’s great to meet you, Mr. Yachtsman,” the boss says. “I’ll give you the tour of our state-of-the-art factory and show you everything that we offer our employees. I hope it will be enough to convince you to stay here and work for us!”

“Here’s the main factory floor. This is where the magic happens.”

“Here’s the break room. Our employees find that it’s a nice place to just sit and think.”

“That’s the executive board. These fellas call the shots around here.”

“Here is the computer room, where all our products are digitized and sent out to the users.”

“And here is our famous recreation room, where employees can unwind and split hog carcasses as they please.”

“That about wraps up the tour. I hope I’ve shown you enough to convince you to work at the factory. Everyone is very happy here. We also offer money.”

“Money. You haven’t heard about it? It’s that popular rock. Collectible tokens signed by the president of the Union. Everybody needs it, and everybody wants it.”

N.Y.C. Police adopts you, and you rise to become the head of the next generation of New York’s influential Police family.

You teach your insane children to patrol the streets...

…and to make sure everyone knows who runs this town.

Here are the tenements. They are a popular tourist attraction that most immigrants enjoy visiting every single day. You live here.

Here is your room in the tenements, and here are your roommates. You are eager to talk with them about your journey and your time so far in New York.

“ΔΔΔΔ,” one of your roommates grunts inscrutably.

“ΔΔΔΔ,” four more of your roommates grunt in a monotone chorus.

“ΔΔΔΔ,” all of your roommates grunt at once.

Yankee great Yogi Berra appears from inside a box you hadn’t noticed before. That makes seven roommates.

Okay. What kind of protest would you like to make about your living conditions?

You go to a protest against women’s suffrage and air your grievances about your tenement living conditions. People seem to agree for the most part. Still, after protesting for a while, you feel like going downtown.

You go to a protest in favor of women’s suffrage and air your grievances about your tenement living conditions. People seem to agree for the most part. Still, after protesting for a while, you feel like going downtown.

You do extremely well in the hot dog eating contest. No one else stands a chance. You eat hundreds of hot dogs and win the grand prize of five dollars, minus the price of the hot dogs you ate.

You don’t understand money well enough to know that this means you are deeply in debt.

It’s not easy, but you work hard and are a quick learner. Your bosses take notice. On your first day, you are promoted to supervisor. On the next day, you are promoted to social media manager. The day after that, you are promoted to CEO. The day after that, you retire as a wealthy and powerful person.

“That’s Yankee legend Yogi Berra.”

Yogi Berra waves.