No. 103. Look Inward, Angel. He spent all of Christmas day painting an angel. He meant it to seem beatific, a gentle, compassionate angel who might be grateful for its existence and eager to bless its maker. He wasn't really all that surprised, however, when his laborious angel caught fire under his hands and brought an avenging heat to his chilly studio. He had made a demonic angel. "It suits me better anyhow," he told himself.

No. 102. The Orgone Accumulator. He was still feeling listless and ant-climactic after having experienced 100 sojourns in the Tabletop Studio. Then he remembered how much faith some people had once put in the restorative qualities of the famous Orgone Box, devised by one-time Freudian disciple, the psychoanalyst Wilhelm Reich. The Box was made of alternate sheets of plywood and copper. Somehow, according to Reich, if you sat inside the Orgone Box, it would serve as an accumulator of the vital--essentially sexual--energy that was floating through the universe. Sitting in The Box, Reich proclaimed, was good for everything from restoring lost vitality to curing major diseases. He figured he'd give it a try.

A Note on Orgone (from Wikipedia):
Orgone is a pseudoscientific and spiritual concept described as an esoteric energy or hypothetical universal life force, originally proposed in the 1930s by Wilhelm Reich. As developed by Reich's student Charles Kelley after Reich's death in 1957, orgone was conceived as the anti-entropic principle of the universe, a creative substratum in all of nature comparable to Mesmer's animal magnetism (1779), to the Odic force (1845) of Carl Reichenbach and to Henri Bergson's élan vital (1907). Orgone was seen as a massless, omnipresent substance, similar to luminiferous aether, but more closely associated with living energy than with inert matter. It could allegedly coalesce to create organization on all scales, from the smallest microscopic units—called "bions" in orgone theory—to macroscopic structures like organisms, clouds, or even galaxies.
 

No. 101. Mankind Cannot Bear Too Little Reality. After 100 sojourns in the Tabletop Studio, he found himself running short of Reality. So he bought a new supply.

No. 100. Climax-Anticlimax. When you've done something a hundred times, it's apt to seem like enough. And frankly, the other side of one hundred is Terra Incognita, and who knows what dragons ply the waters on the way to those distant shores?