Which is why I'm live-blogging this.
Still no sign of the "specialist" that the Citadel of Doom's manager hired to catch me or kill me or what-the-hell-ever. Although I do see a new spacecraft on the Citadel of Doom's rocket pad. It's one of those "environmentally-friendly" foreign models. Y'know. All tiny and cramped and snub-nosed and boxy-lookin'? Runs on starlight and dreams and vaporized cat pee? Probably has a little compartment to store your balls in? Yeah. One of those. If my pursuer is driving that weeniemobile, I don't anticipate him/her putting up much of a fight.
Criminy, but it's quiet this morning. Usually, I wake up to the sounds of the Planetoid of Peril's assorted fauna ripping one another into bloody gobbets. Today? Nothin'.
A flock of venomwings is flying past the cave, providing some welcome screeching.
One of the creatures just gave me the stink-eye, but I just stared it down like I always do. Yeah. You'd better keep going. Heh.
It looks like the venomwings have zeroed in on something below my cave, under the canopy of trees. They're circling, like they always do, and
out of the SKY
The venomwings, they just stopped flying and fell, all of them, all at once.
I don't like this.
I don't like this at all.
Well, now I suppose I have to go down there and see what all the hubbub is a
Not only can I not believe who they sent after me, but I can't believe what they're wearing.
I gotta go have a "talk" with the "specialist."