DangerCouch!

Hello everyone, this is Ruckus MacMullit and I’m back. Jimmy seems calmed down now, so I guess it’s safe to come out of hiding.

I thought things would be more tense with him, but he’s been kind of preoccupied looking for something.

Not that I’m complaining.

Anyway, I sat down to write a bit for the Couch fans, but I got stuck. All that time between the pixels must have given me writers blotch.

It’s a really bad case, too. I’ve got phosphor burn-in up and down both arms. Like those old arcade games where no matter what screen you’re on, you can always see the top scores floating like number shaped clouds above the action. Except mine are in the shape of your emails.

By the way, you need to give up on that guy, he’s just never going come around. You could also use a screen saver.

So I was going to give up and throw my notes away, when I found something a lot more interesting on the back side. I think it’s from Wilh.

Winnona,

When I say your name, or sometimes even when I write it, my heart exceeds its usual, well-trained 80 bpm and moonwalks for joy.

Your bearing, your marksmanship, the way you hold a bayonet: all speak to me of woman who has everything, except someone to spar with.

Sometimes I like to imagine a life with you: long walks in the combat zone, picking out grenades together, cleaning our guns in front of a roaring fire.

And of course, matching and calibrated, his-and-hers bazookas.

Don’t be fooled by the allure of strangers and mystery men when your battle-mate is right in front of you.

I need……………forget it.

I guess you’re guaranteed to learn something whenever you tape together your scratch paper from the paper-shredder.

Anyway, I suppose that’s enough for one day.

Be sure to turn off your monitor tonight, those pixels get tired.

Have you ever done something bad?

Something really bad.

Something so badly bad that you can’t live near yourself.

Something so hideously awfully terribly bad that you can’t sleep at night for fear that your bass player might fill your pillow with flesh-eating inchworms.

Well if so, you need help. Because you clearly are a very bad person. The kind of person that I have absolutely nothing in common with, except of course for the whole Wrath of Jimmy thing.

In fact I don’t think you should be reading this, just in case the authorities bust in and somehow implicate me in your ring of unspecified evilness.

I don’t know why I am telling you this. I just feel kind of close to you, especially since I started hiding in your monitor.

Yes, I’m in here and I’ll tell you it wasn’t easy. The hardest part was scanning myself. It’s surprising how even the most advanced scanners still have problems with plaid.

So I’m kind of laying low for a while, hiding out between the pixels on your screen.

(Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about the oatmeal wresting site you like so much.)

If you see Jimmy, just act normal. Unless of course normal for you includes the tendency to holler out, “Quick Jimmy, bring the magnet! He’s here in my screen.” That kind of normal we can all live without.

Especially me.

-Ruckus