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G*d. A cold, uncaring old bastard. A big load of static. Static did help me sleep. Exile's been tough. There's nothing in this house except spiders. I opened a can of tomato sauce, Campbell’s of course. It tasted acidic. I needed something to grip, I was falling. It’d been days. The bunker was emptied and filled with gross skeletons with drawn skin and spider webs filling in the gaps. The Alpine air was gentler than I had expected. This old cabin was built for snow so it only got a wee bit cold at night. I thought about running but where, plus I knew if I came across myself I’d ignore me. Ugh, sorry that made zero sense, I'm a bit out of sorts. There's the warm light of the town below. Ara, I'm so hungry.

I woke up hearing a tapping on my window. I got out of bed, cloaked in my bed sheets, taking a fire poker in hand. I approached the window. It was Autumn and these annoying little bugs where still about, bigger than I’d ever seen. A huge spider scuttled about the window pane. I dropped my sheets and looked for something to lead it out with. When spiders get that big they almost seem… I seen him. Roger, through the frosted glass. I lay the fire poker down.

“Why aren’t you running away?” he said in an fierce tone, with a hint of disappointment. I sat on the bed. I wished it would be easier but I knew it would only get harder. I’d done it to so many. So many dead. “Are you not going to scream?” asked Roger, hunkering down to eye level. He was in a fancy black uniform with a white fur coat. “Not even going to ask me why I let you loose, no?” Sure I was afraid, who wouldn’t be? But I’d enough time to take that momentary odd pleasure from him. “Nah, just do it coward.” I said looking into his fathomless eyes.

---

Subject: The Rings Of Saturn

---

I rolled backwards on the bed and burst towards the door. I wasn’t dressed for the snowy weather. I struggled in snow banks until it became obnoxiously obvious that Roger had others outside. I tried one more drive, waist deep in snow but failed. I was taken by black clad men and brought to a Civ Transport Truck. Roger slapped my red-raw cheeks for attention. He looked like the Devil’s inbred cousin. “You’re going to be bait for some very, very heavy fish.” He walked away for a moment. I was beginning to freeze. “Let me sit up front, it’s cold.” He gave me a look of disbelief. “Don’t want your fish to freeze altogether? Right, yeah!? Please!” I dropped into the snow and flopped about shamelessly. He laughed and clapped. “I suppose it was entertaining. "If you so much as scratch your balls I’ll take half the price on your head. Understood?” he said. He stared into me. I’d been beaten, groped and humiliated in all sorts of ways throughout my life but I’d never felt as violated as his bottomless stare implied.

I was in the cab with Roger, myself and the Driver. The Driver was some dude dressed all in black Military Gear like the rest. “Can I ta-” Roger put his finger to his lips, his eyes bulging. The road was getting clearer, much to my dismay. I was hoping we’d fly off a cliff to spare whatever mad torture this lunatic had in store for me. Never ending ball twister? Water torture replaced with vegetable oil (it’d be worse, I’d thought about it). Man, these roads were high up. Alpine high. “Fine, I won’t ta-” Roger knocked me out.

---

Hmm...
Time also Date?

What a weird dream. I had been having trouble getting out of the country. Effin’ Fortress Switzerland! I’d no assets so I thought they’d have said yeah to getting rid of me but I was stuck for the time being. I chose a room near the Irish Embassy. It was in decent knick. The pubs glittered from street to street. No wait, I couldn’t have been…

I know I’m dreaming now. Things are very sketchy and cartoon-ish.
I need a spring of chatter and nectar. Two pints please, thank you. Get lost.

Ah nah, I went back asleep I think. Once I was actually up I’d a yarn to make stuff with. I’d heard through the vines of... yarn, there was a place to hide. Very comfy. Shhh.
"What do you call a Civ without a mother?"
"Puddle? "No? Jeez, Lucky. Yeh?"
No need to get all moody. Sadsack.




OOF!
Oh shit they’re down, the young girl with her magazine.
The Mother and her little two, G*d! A deck of cards worth of injuries
You gotta roll your centre, pass it
Into the spikes, to tell a tale worth telling
Sorry but listen, time and time, again and again, I’m not-
Roll it into the spikes! The stolen car hit the police spikes and flipped. "We’ve reprimanded the lead suspect. Wanted for Narcotics, Counterfeiting *ahem* the list goes further.” I’d a healthier show at the Civ bars to worry about now. “His name Officer?” They twitched like hungry dogs around him. “I heard one of the.. Ha! We’ve no name yet. Please come forward if you do. Thank you.” Could that old Ninja that taught me the piano that one summer be my mark? Or that Shaolin Yoga instructor that said I had bad posture as an opener? Was that burly statue of the Duke of Munso, my real paps? Was Odin our fathers fathers fathers grandfather? Why do I care? Do I care? Yeah. I don’t know why. Nah, I dunnae.

---

“You awake meat?” asked Roger. I was in the hot seat. Behind him I could see the vague outline of others. They’d a weird, muted version of Holst on. The Planets, this one was the grey, boring one, Saturn. Behind the glass I could see the shadowy outlines of figures, gesticulating. I couldn’t move an inch. Roger’s whacko juice was wearing off, I could only half see a cobblestone street in the corner and it was just for a few minutes. “What do you want you…” The film spins. “Nah f*ck you man. This is sh*t.” Suddenly I couldn't breathe. I heard applause. Lights sparkled as I tried to struggle...

The female extra #00138 is taking a camera home with her. It’s about an hour and a half of traffic. She brings it into her scratchy ass looking blue carpeted apartment.

---

“Cut the sh*t Steppenwolf; either do me in now or show me the way to water yeah?” We took a bura pun right into his Gridom (Grid-dome, ya see!?). He- uh. He, He’yep. Fine looking land. Good for grazing, lazing, inter-dimensional phasing. Have a mower over that pitch you’d have yourself a game. Come see, come saw.

Signing off,

Dr. Roger Stringer

P.S

I’d like to see you fend off a bobcat *roar*

Director: It’s the Found Journal. Remember? Look, here’s the script. See where I say...

Madison Falconry, Esq, Actor of Roger : No, I do this in one take or it’s your job on the line you swarthy fool!

Director : Fine! The studio will make your deaths cool at least. That'll be neat.

Madison Falconry: Yeah, your death, I suppose. Nimrod.

---

“You can’t leave!” screamed Claire.

“It’s his choice Claire, calm down.” implored Ratel.

“No. Leaving is treason.”

Mick and Ratel left her to her statement.

Alright then, f*ck off. I walked away, the bigger man. Wait, hold on!

Signing off,


Stringer? A few people depending, most likely,

---

Citizens, I show you the latest advancement in modular understanding. *applause*

Here you see non euclidean science.
"I hate it! Ah! I hate ehhit!"
The blackboard opened into a winding, impossible void.
“IT could explain a very delicate, very refined form of totality."
Hmm. It certainly could. *Applause*
“IT is never weary as long as men live.”
What other proof than faith?

---

“I won’t waste any more of your time, your attention please towards my subject. He’s a healthy adult male with odd bouts of vertigo. Your average Joe.

All because nobody would talk about what IT was.

We salvaged the mission, but your father never came back to young Annabella. Sorry.” She rushed off towards her pastel, chalky school. He’d done so much but how could... Nah, she would remember, young as she was.

---

“Lets see it work then.” I was strapped to the chair. Like all my victims, I mean patients. Please let me out, I can find you someone better. “Oh really?” asked a megaphone. “Only if you don’t eat me. Ah c'mon, 'sake man!” and the like. I dunno, it was very uncomfortable. You had to be there I guess. They were such an odd, weirdo group.

---

Wake up Stringer! Uh, I could feel resistance against my motion make my limbs ten times heavier. I hated space. I was dying to get to a planet with proper gravity sharpish.

Outer Space, Moon, Sea of Tranquility, 4th Moon Base, the North Aldrin Facility, East Junkerin' Street.

Roger “the Dodger” von Munso, Junior Vice President, the Academy

---

"Get up maggot!" It was warm in the bed but he knew better than to complain. So severe was the punishment. If you touched the wall they'd add a day. Had an automatic washer once a week. Plus a whole hour of open grief before work, very therapeutic, lit the endorphins ablaze. No attention drawn is the best type of-


Screw this place I wish I could get outta he- *woah*!"



The Whole Series