Don’t worry, I’m not dead and I managed to get my arm back.

I know there were at least a few parties concerned for my safety, or at least for the safety of the Aztec gold I promised them, so I’m posting these screenshots from my email for their benefit. Those of you who are just regular readers, you might find this interesting too. It is a story I call ‘The case of the stolen (not lost) arm!’

(Blue=Me, Pink=Detective Candy.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Enter Dr Fabio, who will try- and fail- to bring a semblance of logic and reason to the discourse. If you are having trouble following the concurrent conversations in the emails, stop reading now, it gets so much worse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ok, at this point I was contacted by the black market organ/limb thieves, who were actually not black market organ/ limb thieves but the White Manticore Society (red). I don’t think I’ve mentioned them before, but all you really need to know is that they’re everywhere, they hate me, and I had a thing with one of their higher-ups, Captain Antigone.

 

 

Before you ask, I am not so petty as to hire a hitman to kill an ex because she dumped me. It was mutual.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I told you it would get worse.  For those not counting, I am now having four conversations: Detective Candy is talking through the subject bar with Dr Fabio as the main text of the pink emails. Jenkins is talking in the subject bar of the red emails, and the mysterious White Manticore representative is talking in the text below him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Snakebite (green), is my very favourite assassin. He’s the one with the funny name.

 

 

 

In case it’s not clear, the subject bars in the green emails are being used how subject bars SHOULD be used, because SNAKEBITE IS A DAMN PROFESSIONAL.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Freakin’ anonymous Manticore blew up my teahouse. Luckily I had sufficient warning and got out onto the street. Snakebite, if you’re reading this I obviously can’t pay you in Aztec gold, but if you go to Paris you can find Detective Candy at the Notre Dame Cathedral on Thursday. Tell her ‘San Francisco was a bust’ and she’ll hand you a suitcase containing eight Peruvian Emeralds. She’ll know you if you wear a green fedora.

Regular readers, ignore everything I just said. It’s just an in joke.

Seriously, don’t go to France in a green fedora. I will find you.