For the letters are scanned in,
The photos long since developed and scanned,
The stubs retained,
The dinner receipts scribbled down,
The SPRINT PCS phone logs, logged



***



And now, we wait. We all wait. We wait for the rising swell that indicates the LEVIATHAN BENEATH. Shall it rise to devour us? OR to REASON WITH US? WHAT DEADLY FORCE LIES WITHIN OUR GRASP AS DEADLY COLLATERAL against the LOAN OF DETENTE it might BALEFULLY NOD to.

We know HOW the WHALE's side may be LANCED, dying not straight away, it bleeds and thrashes, a faithful crew might avoid the boiling tempest and wait a ways off. Biding their time.

KILLOGGS CREW, I CHOOSE YOU! COME SUNDAY, will YOU ACCEPT?