Even though I'm dead, people are still trying to make withdrawals from my self-esteem account to fill their
ego balloons. Yup, learned that from a Psychology text I found. So this is where all the burned books go... I've got a lot of time on my hands, and everyone keeps calling me stupid, so I think I'll educate myself while I'm down here.
Oh! And Bijou! My poor defenseless hamster is still alive in the warehouse! Could someone go find her (follow the sound of the squeaking wheel) and kill her so she can join me here? The dagger forged from my bones should still be up there somewhere. Ask
dumbass where he left it. Of course, if he can't even remember where he left his
soul, maybe he's not the best person to ask.