"B.W. Saturday was born on a Saturday, blessed-or perhaps cursed-with the gift to create worlds and build entire universes. But instead of diving into the extraordinary, he prefers the simplicity of standing on his roof, coffee in hand, locked in a staring contest with the sunrise.

One morning, the neighbors step outside to find the streets completely blanketed in papers-lines, sketches, wild scribbles spilling across every inch of pavement. Curious, they follow the trail and discover B.W. lying in the middle of it all, gazing up at the sky. When they ask him what's going on, he gives only a cryptic smile and says... 'It has begun.'"