Flamebate, I don’t know how much time I have to write this. You might remember that a few days ago I was being chased… Well, it seems like even my mighty brain isn’t always a match for the overwhelming evil of this conspiracy. I was knocked out and drugged, then woke up in some weird room on this island place…

They keep trying to drag information out of me, and they insist on calling me number 12. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve been drugged, hypnotized, electroshocked… Once they even threatened to shave off my beard. And I haven’t seen Sheryl at all yet!

Anyway, I managed to break out of one of their torture rooms and find where they’d stashed my laptop. There was a tracker attached to it, but I managed to hack it off. Most of my files have been wiped, but my midget porn is thankfully intact.

At the moment I’m hiding out on one of the outskirts of the town, attempting to build a crude raft out of Popsicle sticks. This attempt has been significantly slowed by the fact that the popsicles need to be eaten first. Any ideas, Flamebate?