The Not So Merry Christmas Stove Battle in December 1935 took its toll on my dwindling nerves....my Brother CackleThorpe the Explorer and I stood on the front lines, facing a Legion of Stoves armed only with a slingshot and a bottle of Weasel Piss to fight off the new fangled demon machines from the future....we did not win, and the burns on my withered anus tell a story of much pain....Then came the Great Losing of Marbles in 1938....everyone did indeed lose their marbles, but not your hellish friend Ol Snigs....my marbles were polished when others were lost....not one of my filth encrusted brethren ever regained their marbles, although there is indeed a cash reward for the safe return of my dead son Kordeesus the Explorer's marbles....
So many places, all so dark ... In my time, I have called many men friend. Though it seems to me now, most were the personification of what you would call evil. Men who's earthly names, you may recognize ... Phil and Dirk Quirk, Mr See, Bobby Jilkes and his father Clarence, Johnny Allan, Harry Krushna, Sheepo, the list is endless, the malodorous stench, permanent.. I will try to remember all I can regarding these 'black souls'. I am an old man now, and my memory fades, but I will tell you all that I know. Everything...