As our lives change, come whatever; We will still be friends forever

Tomorrow's a big day, folks.

That's right. The Solstice. Good times, good times. I wasn't on the blogosphere a year ago, but I've read through the archives. Some bitchin' tight stories they all wrote way back when, sexily entertaining. But all good things must end and so they did. All those assholes are dead now. More or less. But that's cool, 'cause now we have even more assholes than we did back then. There are even some sweet motherfuckers, like yours truly, here to liven this dismal place up a bit now. Back then we just had Reach, and you can't deny that that dude was a total killjoy. No fun at all.

We've had lots of fun since then though, haven't we? I got to be made into a chess piece in a game between four different eldritch abominations. I met a fine upstanding gentleman from the totally rational and well-funded group of paranormal investigators at CRUSADER. I got to work with psychotic fourteen year old assassins. Good times. And y'all remember Iscariot. Love that guy; he was a complete ass, but I love that guy. Don't have a damn clue about anything that happened back when I was with him, but fuck was it fun. I think his blog was much more interesting with me on it, but that's just whatever.

Slendy even managed to nab himself a cute little girlfriend, that sly dog. I always knew he was a player. But Fifi's a real nice girl, the Boss found himself a good one, that's for sure. I totes get to be the best man at the wedding. I hear it's scheduled for June 10, and all of you are invited. It'll be sweet.

Then there's Konaa. My bestest buddy in the whole wide world. I can't apologize enough, I should have been there. Should have had your back when that Rhode Island Redfucker came after you. I'm sorry. I should have been there for you, I should have stopped him. After everything we went through together... It shouldn't have ended like that. We survived the Alamo, Vietnam, that ICP concert. To be blown up in a warehouse like you're just some shitty extra in a Schwarzenegger film... I'm sorry, I need a minute...




Okay I'm good.

And don't worry Konaa, I broke the news to Arnie. He took it alright.

But there's so much else that's gone on. Sageboy came back, went nuts, slaughtered the innocent, got killed by a tree. You can't make this shit up folks.

Robbie died. Five times. Do elephants get nine lives like a cat?

Shaun-boy's back now! He's always been one of my favorites. I especially liked the time he broke his face trying to do parkour. Loser. But he's a vet now, you've got to give him points for that. But he gets even more points for being able to meet up with the ever-elusive M. Even the Boss has a hard time keeping up with him, so you sir, deserve a fucking... well, just a fucking, let's get the man a twenty dollar whore.

And Maduin. Beloved jester. The Boss was always thoroughly amused by your antics. Never before did any man have the audacity to dare prank the powerful and mighty Slender Man. You caught Him unawares, and He developed a great respect for you as a prankster. But He did get you back in the end. His nanna would be so proud if she could see Him now...

Sorry, I get off point. There are new sages now. I don't really like any them, they're all dicks. Especially Nick, flying around with his magic-shit, slaying unicorns and the bugs from Skull Island. And yet David Tennant manages to give you trouble. Yeah, it doesn't make sense to me either.

The PTC crashed and burned. And I never even got to find out what the fuck Father Paranoia was. Dic... actually no, they never solved the mystery, so they clearly aren't dicks. At least, not very good ones. But still, they were totes badass. And they always had the best toys. I would just absolutely love to get my hands on some lasers. Pew pew pew.

Elaine and the Fall of Hope. God, we are pretentious, aren't we? You can't even tell me you didn't know everything was gonna go south, you clearly picked that name just to be all dramatic and shit. Nevertheless, I believe we have a standing date to pick up a drink together. Forget the past and get drunk. That's the philosophy I tell other people to live by. They're much easier to pick off when they're drunk.

Return to S(l)ender!!! Address unknown!!! No such person. No such zone. Wait, I already made that joke, didn't I? Sorry, that's just in bad taste. Doc, you can't keep denying how you really feel about me forever. Wait, I already made that joke once too. So being serious for a moment: when exactly did you manage to steal my wallet. I seem to recall you could hardly stand, yet you manage to steal my wallet? Bitch. I know it was you, I had it on me before I met you and then it wasn't. Spencer, your people are thieves. And you are a gigantic donkey. Hee-haw, hee-haw! Steele, that offer's still good anytime you want to take it up. The rest of you... yeah, I don't really care, you all have enough issues to make me seem normal. That's honestly quite frightening.

There was also that douche that claimed he wrote Dreams in Darkness and tried to make a novel. And then Sparky killed him. Rather anticlimactic. Also, that reminds me, I still owe the Arsonist a cantaloupe.

Zeke Strahm is back. Has been back. Is still off... Zeke Strahming shit. What else can I say, you all follow his blog, don't even act like you don't.

Dammit, do you people have any idea how hard it is keeping shit a secret for a whole year? Of course I knew what Alex had done the whole time, Master let me in on the secret 'cause I'm a badass, but I didn't want to spoil the ending for you guys. Jegus did Jayjay ever take forever in watching those tapes. Of course, we had to let him watch through the tapes, 'cause where's the fun in just telling him what happened? He's a big boy after all, he should be able to solve his own eldritch stalker and cryptic bullshit problems. And remember kids, headbutting Cthulhu is never a sound tactical decision.

It might however be a half decent name for a rock band. With a trumpet player and a little plate with grapefruit for the VIPs to snack on backstage.

The HYBRIDs have been rather quiet lately. Master won't tell me what's going on with them. They're His 'special project.' Personally, I think He was just looking for ways to keep His sexy figure and got a bit too... what? People have already done that joke? Well fuck, what am I supposed to do now, that was my whole shtick. I guess I'll just have to make fun of Vinnie's bea-- oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me.

Well damn, a lot of shit's gone down in the last year. I can't possibly cover everything. But just lemme tell y'all it's been damn fun! To all of you who've had the pleasure of meeting me so far, I love you. And to everyone else, I look forward to becoming acquainted with you in the future.


Of course, I couldn't let such a momentous occasion pass without something big going down. And since we've already taken care of our case (I'll get to that later, it wasn't that interesting anyway) I figured I may as well engineer something entertaining. And since it will also serve to get me answers to some shit that happened months ago and none of you probably even care about anymore, well, double score. Seriously though, I have unfinished business to take care of, so I figured I may as well take care of it while taking advantage of the Solstice. We'll all come out of this with a good feeling about ourselves, I'm certain.

Stay frosty and stay tuned. I'll be back tomorrow with the official report.

Criminy. Ridley saw that I posted here. Now he's demanding that I write stuff for him until his stupid hand heals up. What a crybaby.

Oh for the love of... he's standing behind me right now pointing his gun at my head. He just smacked me on the back of the head with it. Methinks the man doth take this far too serious. I don't even know what he expects me to put down here, nothing particularly interesting has happened since I wrote yesterday. I have been reading through some more of these blogs in my free time. They tend to fall into one of two categories: drivel and rather amusing if atrociously-written comedy. Honestly, can't you folks convey any idea without dropping f-bombs ever other word? It's simply barbaric.

Yes Ridley, I am referring to you as well. No, I shall not be looking up lyrics for one of your idiotic rock and roll songs for the title. If it bothers you, well I just don't particularly care if it bothers you.

Alright, alright, I'll put that down. Quit screeching at me. That man that's been watching the hideout was back again. We noticed him rather easily today, seeing as he was the only person just standing out in the rain getting drenched. Legacy wanted to send the twins out after him, but Madi yelled at him for sending children out in the rain. I've never seen anyone yell at Legacy before; he seemed to be too shocked to think of anyway to respond to her. It didn't matter by that point anyway; following that little exchange we saw that the man had run off again. This is just becoming rather irritating at this point. We're the ones who watch and stalk people. Somebody trying to play that game with us, sooner or later they'll slip up and then they'll be a dead man. Sweet justice...

Ridley appears satisfied with this update. He's leaving now anyway, so I could just as easily delete all this. But then he'd only check on it later and then shoot me in the kneecap while I'm reading the paper. Or something ungentlemanly like that. What a douche.

--Roulette

Huh. So this is the blog thing that Ridley was talking about.

Geez, there really are a lot of you people. I thought Ridley was exaggerating when he started talking about how many of the stalked keep blogs and crap. Seriously, you're being hunted by an eldritch abomination and the first thing you do is get on the computer and start blogging about it? That is not how a rational person acts. I mean, Ridley has an excuse, as he is neither being stalked nor is he a rational person. Of course, reading some of yours' stuff, that second bit might apply to you all as well. In which case, you really should seek professional help. This is why they have therapists and psychologists and all the other idiots who do that kind of useless work. Not that I haven't had some good laughs at the things in you guys' blogs. Because I have; most of them are really quite funny.

Though I can't believe people actually read this blog. Although I can think of why blogging about his stupid adventures would be beneficial to me. I do find his stories rather amusing, but my god is Ridley ever annoying. You all seriously have no idea. He never shuts up. I'm amazed that Legacy has not yet at least attempted to remove his tongue. We did break his hand though. That might be why it seems he's been gone for a while. I can't believed he hasn't just asked his little whore to write down his crazy ramblings for him though.

Oh, look at that. Ridley made nice little introductions of all of us. How nice. They're pretty accurate too. Legacy's a tool, the twins are creepy little brats, Death's Head is psychotic, Sullivan is a tool, No-Name is... depressing, and... Aww, isn't that nice? Calling me the only sane man, but I guess it's only true. In case you can't figure it out, (and considering most of you are running instead of doing something useful with the rest of your life, like becoming educated, I'd venture to say you might need the help) I am Roulette. I was an assassin, and I continue to be from time to time. Otherwise I just move around with these stooges and bemoan how uncivilized they are in their execution methods. Spilling blood is highly overrated, especially when there are far cleaner ways of killing.

But enough about me. Since Ridley was nice enough to introduce my team to you all, how about I talk about his team for a bit, hmm? I'm sure you all know them well enough at this point. First we have Ridley, who used to work for some crazy Mexican with a Victorian fashion sense (well, I guess I can't fault him for that; modern fashion is simply barbarian) who seems to be doing who knows what now. Ridley himself is also crazy, has a voice only somewhat less grating than Chris Tucker, and enjoys watching some absolutely atrocious movies. Like ones with Chris Tucker in them, or that were made after 1960. Modern cinema blows. As I understand it, Ridley worked in criminal enterprises before signing on with the Dapper Fellow.

Then we have Lucifer. He's dead now, so we don't really care about him.

Finally we have Madi. Used to be a runner, got caught up in some weird and convoluted shennanigans with the Mexican fellow before Ridley struck off on his own and dragged her along with him. He has to be doing her, there's no other reason for him to keep bringing her along and not kill her. So far I see no evidence that she has done anything other than become a puppet and try to steal what is rightfully the Master's. She creeps me out a bit, honestly. She either sits around just staring into space or acts far too normal to be hanging with proxies. The way she talks to us all, you'd think she was talking to the old lady next door and not a bunch of lunatics. Sorry, a bunch of lunatics and one awesome sort of ex-assassin. It's just unusual is all. There's also the way that that broken arm she came here with was completely healed after a couple days, and I think it had only been maybe two weeks since it happened. Eh, weird stuff, it happens.

One last note, because I realize this has gotten very long and I should rather not become insane like all of you, I notice that Ridley seems to have failed to mention that we have been being watched. Not those tools from Crusader either (we haven't seen them around since their grocery store blew up); at least I don't think that's who it is. It's just random people, watching. They walk off if we try to approach them, and always somehow manage to just disappear. In the last week it's been much more often, but it's actually been the same person several times, which hasn't happened before. Usually we only see them once, or maybe twice. That guy Ridley mentioned trying to break in before Crusader robbed us was one of them I think. I was the one on guard duty that night and from what I could see, it didn't look like how those lunatics tend to dress. Could have been trying to throw us off or something but...

You know what? I'm done now. I have actual work to be doing. Things that are productive and not running aimlessly all over the frickin' United States or just randomly killing idiots, unlike the rest of you. Not that killing idiots is not productive, I just do it in a manner more becoming of a proper gentleman. All of you suck. Good night.

Just like the pied piper...

Ladies and gentlemen, I am... just... what the fuck?

I really don't know how to describe the events that have just taken place. Am I the only person here thinking rationally anymore? 'Cause if that's that's the case, we're all totally fucked.

That little delivery Oblivion was going on about? Well, it has arrived. And LORD, what it had to go through to get here. First of all, let's discuss Oblivion's chosen method for conveying said package to Wyoming from wherever the fuck he happens to be. Does he send it in the mail? With UPS? FEDEX? Naw, he decides to use those courier assholes who think a clever blog title is making a pun out of an Elvis song. And who does fatboy send, but the team doctor. Of course. As you can see, the situation could only get worse from this point.

And so it did. She was given instructions to deliver the package right to me. As if Oblivion actually though I was gonna pick it up. Man, I was watching some shitty movie on the hotel TV, I wasn't goin' to no fucking dropoff point to meet some doctor. But hey, it seems that if I wasn't gonna do it, there are plenty of people in this town who would be more than eager to get their hands on it. Well who the fuck would want to take something from a man who types like CAPTAIN NIPSALOT? I'm glad you asked, ladies and gentlemen, because it allows me introduce our first challenger. Guess who finally got his lazy ass back from Indiana. Took ya long enough. I mean what the hell, did you walk the whole way here?...

So what's the first thing our good ol' buddy Lucifer decides to do upon reaching his destination? After that bitch-fit he threw in his post, one might expect him to come straight for me and kick my ass, right? No, of course not. He decides to ambush Doc and try to steal the package. Why? Fuck if I know. I'll be sure to ask him as soon as... well, I'm getting ahead of myself here. So he jumps Doc, catching her off-guard and actually manages to abscond with the goods. At this point it perhaps becomes evident the wisdom of not entrusting such a delivery to the postal service. I mean, I could be wrong, but I don't think postmen typically react to mail-thieves by attacking them with a knife. And hypodermic needles. Lucy wasn't expected to have the tables turned, and after a brief struggle, he gets his ass knifed. And injected with shit. Oh, the lawlz!

That's quality TV right there.

If you will allow me to continue, you shall learn that this was not to be the only spot of trouble our intrepid courier would run into. Oh no. Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to our second challenger. Re-introduce that is, as it's someone I'm sure you all remember well. He's loyal, determined, hunts Slenderproxies, and has all sorts of other undesirable traits. Yeah, it's that CRUSADER asshole that was following me before and who is the reason I ended up in Wyoming in the first place. He apparently was not lying about having tracked me down. Well, he made to the right town anyway. I still don't know the fucker's name, so I'm just gonna call him Douchebag. Sounds appropriate don't you all agree?

Douchebag goes for the Doc, but it seems that one ambush was enough for one day, 'cause she was able to dodge him this time. Not that he was gonna give up. "I AM CRUSADERDOUCHE! IT IS MY SACRED DUTY TO RID THE WORLD OF ALL SUITS AND THOSE WHO WORSHIP THEM!" I imagine he was yelling something like that during the fight. He did manage to shoot the Doc apparently, though I hear he got his shit fucked up pretty bad as well. Then who should return to the fray but Lucy, pumped full of so many tranquilizers that one wonders how he's even standing. But does that deter him? Seriously, didn't I just say he was returning to the fray? Open your damn ears and you might hear something, sheesh. Time for a sexy three-way it seems.

At this point, it's just amazing that this has gone on as long as it has, but it couldn't last forever. After that whole police shooting thing, they've been on high alert or something, so naturally somebody (eventually) noticed there were three lunatics trying to kill each other in the street. Honestly, that's just incompetence. A few cops surrounded them and started yelling and at this point my sources become blurry, but it seems Doc managed to slip away before they started shooting. Or maybe the crazy lady running off is what they started shooting at? I don't know. I imagine Douchebag managed to get away since I've not heard anything about that. What I have heard about is that Lucifer got his drugged-up ass thrown in jail. Who's the idiot now, huh, you little bitch?

Well, Doc continues onwards to the dropoff point, y'know, the place I was not at. Oh, but interesting twist: I was there and I was waiting for her to arrive. I don't know how that happened, because like I mentioned before, I was in the hotel enjoying me some Smokey and the Bandit. However I ended up at the dropoff, it made me miss the end of the movie, so I'm kinda pissed.

Okay, okay, let's wrap this thing up, eh? So I'm suddenly standing there all confused like, when Doc shows up lookin' like hell and shoves the package at me. Then she starts talking really fast, relating to me all the details about what happened on her way there. She actually had me interested, with the distant look in her eye, the blood dripping from her sleeve into a puddle on the ground. She kind of stuttered as she told her story and her face was all pale like the blood was all drained out of it. I'm not gonna lie, it was kinda hot.

So I was gonna offer to let her chill back at the pad so's she could recover a bit. After all, I am nothing if not a gentleman. But she cut me off saying something about how she needed to cut our meeting short (I think she'd been talking for about twenty minutes at that point) and that she had to run off. And well, she ran off. I was amazed she could even stand, let alone move that quickly.

And now ladies and gents, it is time for the unveiling. What was this incredibly important thing that was so important that I was moved outside and across town to retrieve it from the zombie of a deliverydoctor? It's a book. A fucking book. How is this supposed to help me? I don't know, I can't even read the damned thing. I'm pretty sure this isn't even a human language in here. This whole ordeal is retarded, I even considered apologizing to Doc for having to waste her time with this shit. Oblivion, we need to meet face to face. So I can hit your face. The fuck is wrong with you?

For that matter, what the fuck is wrong with everybody? I should go nab Lucifer from the jail. Eh, he can spend the night there, I'll get him tomorrow. Or whenever I feel like it. I think I might just go for a stroll through the park tomorrow. Maybe kidnap some people, I don't know. Depends on my mood.

Remain chillin' my peeps, I'll catch you all later. And hopefully the next time things are going apeshit, I shall be the one causing it.

I'm gonna break my rusty cage and run

I mean if that's alright with you Oblivion. Also,

How 'bout fuck yo damn package?

I don't care what you've done, you ain't told me shit about what any of this is about. Naw, you just keep showin' up and then weird shit happens. Hell, I ain't even actually seen you yet, so for all I know you haven't ever actually showed up anywhere and just cause weird shit to happen from a distance. Which, actually that'd be pretty damn cool, so hey, sweet if that's what you've got goin' on. But I ain't bein' your pawn. I already have a Chessmaster to control my every move and I'm sure He's much better dressed than you are.

So in short, whatever this little caper of yours is supposed to be, I want in on it. Or you can go bugger yourself.

Heh, bugger. British people use some funny words.

Now to all my peeps out there, stay frosty. And Dia, I'm glad you understand how much awesome I am. We gonna meet up, have some drinks sometime, right? Of course, you can expect me to pay. Makin' one of my fans buy the drinks would just be rude.