So I am back in the hospital again.

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.

Sorry to hear that Skald.

Take care of yourself. Dehydrated with zero caloric intake? Any clue as to what’s preventing you from eating or drinking?

I call dibs on The Donald. Before I kill him I am definitely shaving his head. Maybe I could shave his head and make him eat the hair?

Good luck with the … symptoms.

You might want to consider that the “hair” is the sentient being and Trump is an ugly growth on it’s ass.

Skald, you need to stick around. Besides, you didn’t give notice.

I dislike hospitals. I hope you are able to go home very soon.

Feel Better!

Oh, I’ve eaten. I just haven’t retained.

That would explain a lot!!

I’m not usually homicidal, but I promise if I encounter any smurfs, I will stomp them into a blue smear on the ground.

For efficiency I suggest we just eliminate Smurfette. With no procreation prospects left the rest of them will eventually die off.

That’s where Blue Meanies come from. It took Pepperland decades to recover from the last incursion.

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.

Funny I should read this just after cleaning some guns. Take care and here’s hoping I don’t need to use them.

Who sent me. Gah. I am so intent on murdering them for you, Skald, that I messed up my pronouns.

If you die, I am taking all your stuff.

Dude. I told you that fried okra and kudzu only diet would work. But you gotta know when to stop!

Why wait till he dies? I’m already picking through things in his garage.

Best wishes Skald! Hope you get better soon.

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.

What do you have against Prince Charles?

It’s not like the stuff is going to be password-protected and heavily booby-trapped, right?
Excuse me, but I’ll be right behind

you.

I’ve broken into a choreographed song-and-dance of “Diarrhea, cha-cha-cha” in your honor.

Why do I think Skald’s doctors have big black eyes and grey skin, as they prepare him for the probing?