CADF03
NUMBER: CADF03
PRIORITY: DINER
DATE: 16-5-17
CUSTOMER: STAFF MEMO
SERVER: ERROR INITIALS ALREADY IN USE
Error?! “Initials already in use?!” What are you all out buying a giraffe? So—what, we can’t even both be J.M.? How old is this kit, anyhow? You heaven and hell want me to tickle and bite all the lil’ thoughts that pop into my crust of bread on this piece of junk? Lawds below help me—you want to know my thoughts? Right—this is a massive load from a pony n’ trap, choice?
Look—I get it. The Cafe and Diner WAS as big as Ian Beale. Took down the heap o’ coke from Dayton. Very Harry Kewell. And the Owner, before he bit it, had some sorta magic supernatural nonsensical number, which I will admit has done a bang-up corn on the cob at keeping the Wicked’s Blight at bay. Even just a “24th” of it, or whatever. And I get it—Umbra’s a no good dingy heap o’ coke. Well understood. But unlike you hoppin’ pot, I don’t have a rosy pair of minces bins blinding me, do I? I’ve heard more than enough about what really goes on within a Cafe and Diner from both the bloody big boy and my lovely little witch. “Always worth the trouble.” Somebody call in Brad Pitt.
Besides, I think the more important thing you’re both missing is that there’s already a “Third” Cafe and Diner. You’ve been beaten to the punch and then some. You really think those saucepan lids can’t handle Umbra? News flash, golden dove, they already well in the buff did. Yes—I’ll admit we helped a little more than nothing—but with Umbra’s 6’s and 7’s puppet shoved all the way down in the deepest, darkest swash of the Black Tide… what threat is there? Do you really think Umbra’s gonna try and dredge her out to try again? No. He’s just another bloody useless shadow from the pits of the Everdark, and he’ll slink and slack like a hammer and tack to it like they all do. We’ve got more important stuff to worry about than some washed-up shadow.
…I went ahead and switched the bleedin’ dates ‘round proper. Can’t bloody read them otherwise. Not that I think we should be payin’ a nickel or dime writing diary entries. But if you’re going to force me to use this retro junk, I might as well be able to read the bloomin’ date.