The
worst thing about this new body is its remarkable resistance to getting drunk. I’ve
hit enough bars to kill a Russian bear. And all that I’m feeling is a very
slight tingling. My mind’s still working. Which means my memory’s still
working. Damn.
I
want to skip this. Maybe just say, “Turns out, Grendel really IS a psychotic
genocidal bastard! Who would have guessed it?” I’ve been (mostly) true with
recording events so far. But I don’t want to have to relive that. I don’t want
to ever think about it.
So
I think I won’t. Grendel’s crazy. Crazy enough to tell me what he’s planning.
He’s trying to open permanent physical gates between the Dreamlands and the
real world. And I’m going to stop him. Hopefully in a very violent way.
And
that’s all you need to know.
I-330
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