Hell and fire was spawned to be released

Oblivion, you bastard, who told you could jack around on my account while I was gone? But I suppose it can't be helped, my fans were no doubt starting to get a bit crazy from being without word of me for so long. I apologize, my peeps, I promise y'all it won't happen again.

So, I guess everybody knows about what went down in Indiana. Our little adventure at this collector-dude's place ending with me and Madi making a desperate escape through a door to an eldritch location. First time I've actually been in the Empty City myself, but lemme tell ya, it's really a rather nice place. I mean, maybe not for all the assholes that get stuck wandering around inside forever, but hey, they're probably the same dumbfucks that refuse to submit to Master, so what does their opinion matter anyway?

Perhaps I did get lost inside for a few days, but dammit, the City' big and difficult to navigate! Made it out before Oblivion hijacked the blog actually, but I haven't been able to get to a computer until now. Why is that, you may ask? Because we're now in  fucking Wyoming. That's right, the most sparsely populated of all the fifty states. There were more people in Indianapolis than there are in this whole damn state. But it's not just bad luck that brought me here. No, Master has a new job for me. A classic stalking position involving driving one of you out of your mind by use of whatever means I feel necessary. It's a sweet gig. I get to do whatever I want, just so long as I don't kill her.

A pretty little thing by the name of Miriam Shawe. Miss Shawe lives with her parents in a nice little house on the outskirts of the bustling a bustling metropolis that is home to somewhere in the neighborhood of 5000 people. She is 16 years old, attends the local high school, and, as far as I can tell, doesn't really have too many friends. Mostly I've just seen her sittin' on her ass and doin' shit on the internets, which let me tell ya isn't terribly interesting. 'Course, I can't imagine there's much else to do in a town this small besides get high or fuck in an alley, both of which are deviant activities and probably unhealthy, so it's not like one can blame her.

See, Uncle Ridley does his homework. We know she's seen the Master a couple times, but she refuses to acknowledge Him. I'm here to teach her the folly of ignoring your problems and hoping they just go away. Because we all know doing that only makes your problems worse. Then again, I suppose they were only going to get worse regardless.

Now I know what y'all're thinking. This girl sounds boring as hell and besides that, I'm in Wyoming. How can anything interesting possibly come of this? Well never fear my chillins because I have plans. Mostly involving that irritating little time-paradox girl that I've been forced to drag along with me these past couple weeks. She's been coming around to our way of thinking, we got her to kill one of those Crusader assholes and steal from that old magick collector. That's all well and good, but if she's gonna continue hanging around with my peoples, then we're gonna have to do better than that. And we shall do better.

On an unrelated note, I've noticed that Archy remains ever silent. Upon attempting to phone the Ark, I was informed that the number I had dialed was no longer in service blah blah blah. I haven't noticed him around the blogosphere in about a month now and the Master doesn't seem to be in the mood to tell me of anything going on. Therefore, I have deemed it acceptable that I make this MY account now. For reals like. At least until Archy does turn up and tell me otherwise. So hey, it says my name at the bottom of the post now. Ain't that fancy?

Stay frosty my chillins! Uncle Ridley loves you all.

I return again, chillins

How y’all doin’ my chillins? Uncle Ridley is back again and of, what’s this? Uncle Ridley gots his own little blog thingie now? Why, golly gee, what WILL they think of next? And why am I making everything into a question?

I don’t know but maybe we can find out together. 

Now for all y’all still checkin’ up on Coronado over in the place where time is still bleeding apparently, you see that He Who Fears Contractions is still up in stuffy old Maine, which promises to be far less dangerous now that certain rogue elements have disappeared. And yet it seems that there shall be such fascinatingly FABULOUS happenings during my absence that I almost do wish I could be back there. Aw well, whatever...

Hopefully I’ll be able to return soon and pay my respects to our new Princess. She was too hot for that little nerd kid and his whiny little bitch of a brother anyways. I should probably bring her a gift of some kind---- I wonder what would be appropriate? Eh, fuck it, I’ll be on this job for a while, plenty of time to figure out something.

Now the reason I’ve got me own bloggetyblag now is quite simple. Because Sandro’s going to be doing his thing over there and Imma be doin’ my thing over here. See, simpel. I know, I know, gotta make sure all you nonenlighteneded runner/fighter/blasphemer/haunted/stalked/inserstdorkishnamehere can understand what I’m sayin’.  That’s really the most important thing here folks, cause ya see, I’m------ wait for it-----

ON THE ROAD AGAIN, BABY!

That’s right ladies and gents, for the first time in oh so very long, the Master is allowing me the return of my freedom. Well, mostly. Technically I’m supposed to be going after Archy’s little pets while he’s busy with the Princess up in Hicktown, Maine. So I’m doing that. Don’t mean I can’t have some fun along the way though, and I most certainly plan to live it up while I can.

Oh yeah, and Robbie-boy's just positively cuckoo, thinking he'd be able to steal my bike tires. Can you believe the nerve a this guy?

Until I feel like getting back to y'all again, y'all stay frosty. We're always watching. Even cuckoo-boy, random shit floating around is not inconspicuous.


Later, bitchez.