I’m not going into the symptoms, because they are GROSS. Let’s just say that my caloric intake for the week is effectively zero and I’m as dehydrated as the Wicked Witch of the West wishes she were. Went in last night around 2300. They’re trying to unSandman me now.
But this is not the time to whine. This is the time to plan revenge. Just in case my jaunty mood is the last gasp of a dying brain, I have instructions for my allies, chief lieutenants, and friendly enemies on the board. Don’t waste time looking for PROOF I was assassinated; just go through the list of my unfriendly enemies and get to smiting. I need volunteers to deal with Jenny McCarthy, and Donald Trump, and Prince Charles, and J.J. Abrams, and the Smurfs. ESPECIALLY the Smurfs. Make sure to murder Clumsy at least twice.
Details will be distributed by messenger pteranadon at the appropriate time.
I totally call dibs on the Smurfs, and I won’t stop at Smurfette either. I’ll murder everyone of those little blue bastards, and I’ll make sure they know who sent them, too.
Don’t listen to him, Skald. You’re fading fast and the proper way to approach this is with quiet dignity, grace, and assurance that all your stuff will go to a deserving fellow who will (probably) even see to it that the more amusing of your schemes are carried to fruition.