I'll Note You In My Book Of Memory

I made it to Pitneybank a couple days back. Apologies to those who have been keeping track of this log and have been disappointed to find mere ramblings and reminiscence of a past I should have forgotten.

Let's see where did we leave off?

Ah yes! Deadhead17. I must commend the Necrotechnicians of Pegton for their speedy revival service. It was fast enough to lend Deadhead a couple hours to come and meet and greet me properly.



Good times. Fireman32 was kind enough to provide us with some proper Hors D'oeuvres and even expressed interest in assisting me. I can't imagine what I could possibly need assistance with...I suppose it would be nice to have a manservant around to take care of a few things. If you are still interested Fireman, I would suggest you bring your talented tongs up to Pitneybank. There's a hungry bunch of folks up here who are just dying to taste your wares.

Speaking of deliciousness, I finally found Duke D'oeuvre. In a cinema, in the dark. I sat down next to him. He was injured, bleeding heavily. He leaned over in the darkness and whispered, "Did you remember to bring the tea?" before passing out. Delirium had overtaken the poor man so I healed him up as much as I could before falling asleep while images of Carey Grant flickered across the screen.

When I awoke, I found a coyote had killed him. Unfortunate that it had to end that way. I'll find him again when he is revived.

The next day I had business to tend to.

Can't say as I took particular pleasure in killing Dirk Triggerfinger. I consider it a selfless act really, a public service. Well, that is if two people can be considered th' public. Of course, being a Creedy Guerilla Raider, a group that is awfully buddy buddy with Creedy Defence Force, I do take a little pleasure from injuring them by proxy.

I wandered back to a warehouse where I happened upon none other than THE Michael Corsair! Uncle Zeddie himself! I spoke softly as he seemed a little under the weather and healed him a little. After a little while, he was gone again! Alas, no autograph! No photos! I'm a bit ashamed of my groupie like behaviour as I was slightly overwhelmed and passed out on a crate. But I did get to drop him a line later on.

But it was back to business today with a very naughty Matroskin striking a deal with the wrong side of my shotgun.

What did he do again? Oh I don't remember. But whatever it was, rest assured, he deserved it.

And in the crowd I saw a few friends. Jay Kindle hobbled in. I thought he might do a bit of pink brain hunting. But he was in poor health so I patched him up a little and he wandered off to find somewhere to sleep.

But an even older friend stuck out in the crowd. I didn't make myself known immediately as we had parted in disagreement about a week earlier. But I couldn't help but give him a little taste of what I do.



I suppose I must have overwhelmed him with love. He is very dear to my heart.

And with all the death around me, I'm picking up some new skills. I've finally figured out how to revive someone from their undead state. Perhaps I'll go stick a needle in my old friend tomorrow. In fact, I think I'll rather enjoy that. He has quite an aversion to needles. Yes, I am evil. But you love it.

Hat Trick

I've never been particularly fond of hats. They tend to mess up my hair and aren't particularly fashionable in any context other than sporting events or funerals.

The day before yesterday though I managed to pull a little trick out of one. It began in Mitchem Mall in Vinetown. I'd considered doing a little scouting around to see what I could find in the suburb when I stumbled upon Droopliss sleeping peacefully in the north west corner. I left him a little note thanking him for sparing my life back in that junkyard in Pimbank when he found me as a zombie and wandered off looking for...well do I need to say it?

Whatever it was, I found it in Caunt Street PD. Two zombies had shambled in from the warming streets and had started to feast. I sat down and watched for a while, taking reading a magazine article about the Columbine Kids. At last I saw a decent opportunity.

DeathLemur, a scared pureblood zombie had been cruelly revived and in his confusion, ran into the PD. The poor thing was nearly dead.



And so, I sent him back to his zetheren.



The zombies had been working hard on their meals, but it would seem their eyes were bigger than their stomachs and they gave up on eating Darth Ozy 4th.

I decided to try and help him out. I grabbed my trusty rubber gloves and began to operate.



Unfortunately he died on the table, right after I'd performed a ketchupectomy.



A bit dejected I wandered northwards. I considered going back to the mall to hang with Droopliss but I'm not fond of backtracking, besides I had new and unfinished business in Pitneybank.

Ah but I simply could not resist this before wandering off:


And so I slept quite soundly in one of the buildings in northern Vinetown, pleased with my Hat Trick and wondering what tomorrow would bring.

I awoke ready to travel and restock. On my way to the police station, I ran into a friend of a friend.

DeadHead17 knew Chrisman. In fact, I believe the two are related. I thought it was only polite to drop in and pay him a visit.





He even got a lovely photograph out of it. However, it would seem he wasn't too pleased with my dropping in unannounced. I think I'll keep all these delicious muffins and send him a canned vegetables hamper instead.