Roger that, Roger. I see the briefcase. It is a nice briefcase. Within it is a piece of paper. It reads, "Do not tell others of the contents of the briefcase."

I breathe heavily. Is it fate, or is it destiny? Time warps around me as space unfolds in a pile of intergalactic swarf. Knowingly, I reach for the tassles. But the tassles are long gone.

CQ CQ CQ, this is TRI calling Roger. Do you copy?

I reach for my pocket Xerox. Slowly, I raise the drum above my head, scan my DNA, and clone myself. I don't know what the fuck that did, but now there are two of me, so that's cool. This is gonna piss off the wife.

Summary thus far

• smell of fresh toner
• Case of the Missing Tassles
• swarf lol
• custard is nice, unrelated but I thought I'd mention it yknow