As I sit here checking some of the more wistful pages in this collection, I've received word that the Champ has arrived at my back door. This is after a long rafting trip where it's said he fractured his expherior maztrikle. None the worse for wear, I'll invite him for coffee in the Springtime once I've gotten my shots. Meanwhile, if I get reports that he's started to affect that standard downcast mien, I'll be forced to consider removal--not to say extrication! The Management Team is on the ground even as it shifts beneath their less-than-graceful feet. Also, I'm in touch with more than a few stakeholders and their concubines. Exhibiting a combination of mirth and cylindricality, they've gone the extra mile to uphold my version of events in case a rapid response comes to the fore and any of us get shafted in the melee. Can we count on you to stick to the official account? Your family will thank you in my absence. And, it will go a long way to repair some of the damage that we know you'e been itching to effectuate.
If it comes to that, why haven't all of our senior people been collected and confined? Even though they know it's for their own good, I have it on good authority that they summoned my loss prevention specialist to their bungalow, stripped him of his title and tittered compulsively when he stepped in a hole near the outbuilding. This CANNOT continue! Someone could get their field trip all but canceled. The next step would be to enforce a sleep regimen on unsuspecting nitwits. Without a central bardling phase, any condition which we have reason to believe is otherwise preventable will be grounds for a swift reinforcement gambit. Any related pelicans can be counted upon to infuse a high-donor pro-cam inhibitor in our stinking bomber's plot. The next thing you know, one or more padded artifacts could be lodged in the pathway of those who need extra help. This won't come without the say-so of a 'convenience specialist'. The problem is, the last one departed over a year ago and a replacement is not guaranteed to appear when there are barely moments to spare. You will help us to incite a plague of minor injuries which will distract the attentions of comely blonds. Then we will have what we need to work with as time grows short. Why hasn't anyone thought of this before? Please ask yourself. Final notice.