I am seriously thinking of writing a screenplay of my life. We can call it, I Used to Care But Now I Take A Pill For It. George Clooney would be a good candidate to play me. He’s handsome enough. Perhaps one of those directors who are responsible for creating all those disturbing shows for the cable could work with me. We can get a writer interested in the same genre on board and I work as a consultant. I don’t see why not, these guys do a good job on all those dark T.V. series. At this point it would probably make a better reality show, but let’s not go there.
The Tunnel of Fetishes continues to bring new interest to our beloved amusement park. Miro has indeed succeeded in making it a destination point for people who share this particular interest. Tourism is at an all time high and I’ve even caught a few F.B.I. people venturing in from time to time (big surprise.) Miro and I are now discussing converting one of our hotels to suit this particular client, along with a high-end boutique. I think it kicks Karpland up a notch. The revenue certainly helps maintain the leaky roofs and unpaved roads we have had to deal with. This is great because Petropolis Luftenshafen has just starting to produce and distribute U-Buzz. It will take awhile before we see any real profit. I’m thinking of an infomercial as part of our marketing plan. It’s the old buy one get one free routine, plus shipping and handling. We are also looking for celebrity endorsements.
There is a tension in the air and it’s driving me crazy. The umons are beginning to get ready for Ash’s return. They are piling sandbags along the coastal areas. This will help protect them in case of gunfire. We have armed the younger ones and are instructing them on how to kill with one bullet. I received a message telepathically from Katherine. Informing me that in five days we will be engaged with the enemy. She somehow seems to get through to me no matter what. “Upon receiving the news I went back to my apartment and swallowed 20 milligrams of Valium and washed it down with a tall glass of Jim Beam. This was enough to stop my hands from shaking, but not enough to put my mind at rest. I sat for a few minutes until it kicked in, then I reached for the box under my bed where I keep my guns. They aren’t loaded for fear that one of the triplets might find them and mistake them for toys. Looking on the positive side of this whole clusterfuck, five days will give me enough time to get back in practice.