Whatever stomach-bug Sandra had yesterday is mine today. It’s hard to get anything done when the small gods of Gastro and Enteritis make war with one another, hurling their spears in the battleground of my belly. Their minions die by the thousands… it makes me sick to my stomach.
The gastro-enteritis war is depleting resources from other bodily nations, so I’m sending for aid packages all the way around. I see help on the horizon — troop and supply trains from Hotbath and Longnap.
Sketch editions… I think we’ve got 753 confirmed orders, and another 100 or so in limbo. We’ll get it all squared away before we set the number on the rubber-stamp.