Sweet Uncle Lou’s Diary: Special “Suspension, Day Three” Edition

Dear Diary,

It is cold and dark in here. I am running low on supplies and water. Because of the damp conditions, my feet are cracked and raw. My separation from the team has stretched into its third day.

I know not how the team is doing. The native boy who was providing me with play-by-play updates from the outside was shot dead while trying to provide me with a summary of “The Ron Santo Show” on Monday. No matter how much I wash, I cannot get his blood off my hands. When I close my eyes, I see his face. I see the scraps of paper he slipped through the window. “Jack Jone got hit off Aramis in first inning.” I don’t know why Aramis was pitching, and I don’t care. It was good to know that there was someone out there who knew I was in here. Now, that someone is gone.

If you are reading this note, it is likely that I am either dead, or I was able to bribe one of the guards to get my story out to the outside world. Know that I am thinking of the team. I hope that Stitch-Lip is healing well, and that Crater-Face is keeping the morale of the troops up.

I must go. I hear footsteps approaching, and my eyes grow weary from the dim light. Please continue to hold on to the hope that I will return, no matter how slim that hope may be. Cocksuckers.

-Sweet Uncle Lou

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