Log from July 27th:
It’s actually not even funny anymore.
Russ. I’m sure you’re reading
this. You’re likely well-aware of the fact that I’ve posted your
whiny, clingy emails and mocked you in several ways. If you didn’t catch
a couple of the ways I was being scornful, read between the lines.
I’ve gathered that you’re not
from my area. You probably aren’t even in Canada. If you’re in the
States, then congratulations; you’re spreading your mark where we need
it. You’ll probably even find your very own little Priestess or Priest –
hell, make your own. I highly recommend it. It’s my bad luck that my Priestess is also a vessel.
That’s right, fucker. You can’t
tap that without spreading the Red Cap. I’d get inside her so fucking
fast, if I even laid a hand on her, that you wouldn’t even have time to
blink.
I’d lose my Priestess. If she was yours, you’d lose her, just the same
as I would.
Get it yet, asshat?
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