::cursing his lack of a wrench or a screwdriver, is at the moment in B2, disassembling his own bed from underneath it, in order to salvage metal and wood to make gigantic death robots. His unfinished letter sits beside him::

( To my evil moisture buddy )

::lying on his back under the train, only the bottom half visible to passerby, draped over the track and fiddling with a panel, attempting to remove it with little success ( Read more... )