biannual Mask Voting!
Mask Voting Season rises twice a year like a planetary heartbeat. It’s a cosmic jamboree that makes the whole world feel brighter, louder, and a little more unhinged in the best possible way. The swamp fog thickens, the air hums, and Cornwall’s workshop begins to glow like a newborn star preparing for its debut. People across continents pause whatever they’re doing because they can feel it: the season has begun. Cornwall emerges with determination, crafting masks from swamp‑glass and lightning‑kissed resin.
What follows is chaos, but it’s the lovable kind. the kind of chaos that makes humanity feel like one big, goofy family hosting a talent show in a thunderstorm. Sabotage becomes tradition, excitement becomes atmosphere, and the vote becomes a global roar so loud it briefly confuses NASA. When the winning mask is crowned, Cornwall simply nods, thanks everyone with the weary dignity of a man who has survived too many glitter bombs and puts his old cracked hockey mask back on. And the world cheers anyway, because Mask Voting Season isn’t about the winner. no, it’s about the ritual, the craft, the community, and the cosmic joy of participating in something so silly, so heartfelt, and so enormous it feels like the universe itself is laughing with us.
Voting Starts In Mid-Late August
(check back for updates1)
Mask voting: sason 1
The beginning of a not so cajun tradition
&
The rise of Geishawall
Ahh yes… The season and event that began it all. Cornwall went from being a myth to becoming one with the swamp. Other swampkin knew of Cornwall, but the rest of the world was unprepared. As he tangled branches in decorative streamers and filled balloons with bog fumes, the seats filled with the denizens. Each LaFayette sat before the stage, moss and wooden board in hand. With the end of the first round, most of the masks had been left without a vote. One mask made it through that was meant as a joke, geishawall. All cornwall wanted was a few giggles and chuckles, but instead he would find betrayal...
Troubled by the idea of the taking upon the identity, Cornwall questioning which masks would progress to the next round, he began to sense something wrong. Something about the second round felt off and it was. The ole devil rooster of the swamp had brought it upon himself to tamper with the results. Whisper by whisper he began to turn the swampkin. With only Ricky and his crickets to stay loyal, the rest of the swamp had turned. once again he was shocked by the results.
tHE THREE FINALISTS FINALLY STOOD AGAINST EACH OTHER amongst the red carpet. As thousands of fans and the fellow dwellers gathered, they were given one final chance to vote. Glowing ever so celestially with golden blush and silky hair - Geishawall, resting upon it’s pedestal. Sitting under the spotlight, soaking up the rays and Corned, Thorned, and adorned with roses - Every corn has it’s husk. Finally, The gas mask that ran on fumes of passion, High-on-Love Cornwall confidently breathing in attention. As cornwall awaited eagerly, what awaited would be DEVASTATING…
STAY TUNED…
Mask voting: season 2
A mask Cornwall couldn’t refuse
sTAY TUNED…
Mask Voting Season 3 Coming this fall…