At any given time, somewhere in the multiverse, an idea goes to waste.
But where does it go?
The Scrunk is the trash-heap of the gods, the forgotten basement of All Things and the locked attic where the multiverse keeps their crazed, blind grandmother. It is where discarded and abandoned ideas go to live out their afterlives together with half-formed thoughts and bygone concepts. Every crumpled up paper thrown in the bin, every document file deep within a hard drive.
It's a mishmash of worlds, where paradoxical impossibilities are forced to get along and mutually exclusive concepts share a beer or the idea-equivalent. Everything has mashed together into one patchwork quilt, where a simple stroll can take you from the castles of high fantasy to the neonlit streets of cyberpunk. The only geography that make sense is chaos and where-ever you want to go, there you are.
The Scrunk isn't ruled by anyone or even really managed, but exerts a force all of its own that bring things into a sort of balance. The weight of ideas pull the Scrunk together, like a blackhole of crazy. From the top of the Scrunk, new things trickle in when their time in the worlds outside as at an end. Get comfortable, pull up a chair.
Welcome to the Scrunk - good or bad, doesn't matter what kind of idea you are here.