Hey you, yeah, you. Name's Wobbunoir. I'm sure yours isn't significant at all, so we'll skip that half of our introduction, no worries, I'll just call you "pal".

Listen here, whether you want to or not. You aren't leaving that chair any soon, so you might as well be doing something productive in the meantime.

Now, here's a question, ask yourself: Those people you call friends (you have friends, right?), those people, they consider you a friend as well, correct?

Alright, let your mind saunter over that while I recollect. See, it all started a few months ago, y'know, back in a simpler time where the conspiracy wasn't causing the whole town to go amok in an apocalyptic disaster that almost destroyed the universe.

No no, this was just a normal week, I can remember it like it was yesterday...
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>Some months ago...

Like most things, it started with a letter, a letter that went from being a letter to actually being an invitation. This time? To a cruise ship departing for one destination, and one destination only. Courtesy of an old friend from the younger years, Mantyke.

Ahem, *tine*. Apologies.

Glavacados. An island far, far away, a popular tourist attraction because well, it's an island.

Normally I would object to an invitation, given that right now it was winter of all fucking seasons, but with promises that "everything would be hot as holy hell" on the other side of the hemisphere, I agreed. With hesitance.

Of course, with all invitations, I was offered to bring a buddy along, and so, I chose Quagson, my partner-in-crime. Though I suppose a more technical alternative would be 'partner-in-solving-crime'.