Can't get any scarier than Ankh-Morpork on a daily basis.

Speaking of home, I've given in and taken a job. "Slime Identification". I'm getting homesick already.

Or possibly just sick.

[[filtered from the Computer]]

While poking around strange lumps of slime is something I've gotten used to over the years, I'd prefer to while away the hours here doing something a bit more... worthwhile. If any of you get hurt and feel like seeing a real doctor, talk to me.

Until then, I'm going to sleep for about a year or two.

[[filtered away from the Computer]]

I'm afraid that there's a lesson to learn from this. Nobody leaves good food laying around for no reason, understand? A little healthy paranoia would help the lot of you in the long run.

If anyone feels like seeing an actual doctor instead of one of those MedBots, come see me. I don't know much about how medicine here works, but I'll do what I can.

Well.

It's finally happened, then.

I guess it was bound to. Keel can only keep me up for so many nights treating his victims before I slip into an exhaustion-induced hallucination. Apparently my subconscious is inventing new words now. The devil is a "communist"? Or, for that matter, a "computer"?

On the extremely unlikely off-chance that all of this is really happening, anyone out there interested in giving me some answers? I don't have any money, but I can take care of any embarrassing rashes you might be suffering. If it comes to that, a hot meal wouldn't be entirely terrible.

...And a bed. Definitely a bed. Please, gods, I know you don't like doctors, honestly, neither do I, my colleagues could do with a smiting or two. But, uh, how about throwing one a bone just this once, mmm?