Black Friday.

We woke today with a false sense of calm. The air was crisp. We slept the night in the safety of Fival’s Bane in the city of Savannah. Our ally here, Prof. Phil Keeling esq.  has been a generous host and spent the morning on watchtower duty allowing us to sleep into the early afternoon. I suppose I should catch our dear readers up on the last two battles.  Let us start from the end and work backwards. Here is the official transcript of last night’s show:

Kilroy- “Please welcome your hope…the Protomen.”

Panther- “Tonight we have come to tell you a story… For there was no one left who could remember how it had happened…at least no one who…


Commander- “We’re in a jetwash. Shit!”

Murphy- “This is not good. We’ve got a flame-out. ”

Commander- “Engine one is out!”

Scartoe- “Engine two is out!”

Panther- ” I’m losing control. I can’t control it!”

“It’s coupling up! This is not good!”

Heath Who- ” Mayday. Mayday. Panther’s in trouble.”

“He’s in a flat spin heading out to sea!”

Panther- “Altitude 8000…7000…”

Scartoe- “I’m pinned forward. I can’t reach the ejection handle!”

Commander- “Demon Barber…You’re going to have to punch us out.”

Demon Barber- “I can’t reach the ejection handle…”

Heath Who- “I’ve got it. Eject!”

“Everyone watch the canopy!”

Panther- “Oh God…”

-End Transcipt-

We came to in the cold water, we think it was a fuse that blew…but no one will ever know for sure…

What is known is that this morning not a one of us had any hair on our chins.

Whiskerino, Whiskerino…

We finished the battle last night as best we could.

We won. We were victorious. But we did not make it out. A piece of each of us remains. Lost.

Follow me now, faithful readers, further into the past. Two nights ago. In the Village of Gaines.

We were outmatched.
There were just so many of them…

They came in waves.

Killer Robots.

Some were giants. Some were small and quick. One climbed to the top of Jesse Christine and attacked Hank the Tank (our Tour Manager) from above. It was a massacre. We never knew what hit us. By the end there were robot parts everywhere. Those of us who remained drank the memory away as best we could…but there was nowhere to go. We stood for hours in the very place where we were nearly destroyed. We decided to split into two factions: Half marched into the darkness to find shelter. The other half barricaded themselves in the Protobus and prayed for morning.
We rendezvoused at daybreak…put the hammer down and made a line to Savannah.

Now you know what we know.

The story is over halfway written.
We fear the light outside but know that we must somehow make it to Charleston.

Until our next meeting…

[The following is a transcript of a conversation between Demon Barber and Commander
This conversation takes place late in the evening following the battle of Savannah]
Demon Barber - "You've got to let your beard go."   

		"You've got to let him go."

Commander- "I think maybe it was my fault."   

		"I don't know."

Commander- "I don't know what the hell went wrong."

Demon Barber- "I'd like to help. I know it's difficult."

Commander- [light sobbing]                      

Demon Barber- "God, he loved flying with you, Commander."

		"He would have flown anyway...without you."

 		"He'd have hated it, but he would have done it."

Commander- "God, I want him back"

Demon Barber- "I know bro, I know."

-End Transmission-