“Don't worry about bitin' off more'n you can chew; your mouth is probably a whole lot bigger'n you think” - this is the philosophy that Morningwood thrives on. Built on dry, hot and barren land as far as the eye can see, this country is peppered with small towns and big personalities who refuse to live in the present.

Fueled by oh-be-joyfuls and worn-out machines, the Woodies have taken the role of Abaddon’s Mad McGyvers, equipped with a strong curiosity, a stronger liver and the strongest duct tape. The rotting wood salons are run by half man-half machine barkeeps who are complete cowboys and people travel between towns on hoverboards while clapping coconuts to preserve the classic sound of horse hoofs - the whole kit and caboodle is right as a trivet!

These towns drench themselves in drink to numb the pains of the past as whispers around town conspire that their native land was annexed by the Vagicanese. Current relations with the Vagican continue to fan the flames of suspicion among the most inebriated Woodies. However, most townsfolk are wary of conspiring about the stolen land because something sinister watches during the quiet midnight rumble of the tumbleweeds - the hills have eyes.