Due to dismayingly few Halloween Eyedroppers in Monday's inbox and to the bad luck of having my own festive Eyedropper turn out too dark (imagine: a Halloween party where a set of conjoined twins stands in the middle of the dance floor, one twin making out with Betty Page, the other crossing his arms dejectedly and looking bored), there will be no presents for Eyedropper followers this year. Bah, humbug.

Here's what the vault had to offer:

In a charming little alt.universe vortex located between Cowgirl and Corazón, things have gone strangely amiss. At one end of this niche there is a missing ATM, removed presumably with money inside. At the other is an informal suggestion by a sign for a newfangled dance. The vacant hole asks, "Dude, where's my ATM?" It seems it was satisfied with an answer. Meanwhile the pushy little button begs for people to do its lewd little dance. What is "The Bump" anyway? All we know is that you can do it with your hands full. Great. Until we find out what it is exactly, avoid The Bump entirely...and that corner of town.

Show us what has left the back of your eyelids burning. Send pictures of visual trespass and peculiarities to copyeditor [at] sfreporter.com, subject “eyedropper.”