Wherein Falcon figures you're all sick of him by now.

[pedaltothemetal]

All right, everyone, here's your status report.

After talking to a lot of you, I'm pretty sure the magic age is fifteen. Anyone older aged down, anyone younger aged up. Not that it really matters, but eh. The more you know.

I also did some sample analysis yesterday to try and figure out what this stuff is and what we can do about it. The bad news is that I can't reverse it. Not that I ever thought I could, but anyway. The good news is that it's temporary, and should only last a week, give or take. Everyone will probably be back to normal by next weekend.

Unless of course, you're enjoying this, in which case reverse that good news/bad news and uh...make the most of these next few days, I guess.

You can all thank me now.

I am exhausted and it's not even the end of day two.

I was really looking forward to this weekend but instead I get to babysit, fuck my life.

I am going to regret asking this but If anyone needs anything, don't hesitate to let me know.
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[In addition, three of these are hung on Lash's doorknob.

They are accompanied by a post-it note. "For Lash. Pass the others on to Hawke and Jeff. From Falcon."]