A Maladjusted Jester

What an exciting week!

In light of all the discussion, Adstringendum, let's chat- who would you trust to nominate as ombudsman?

Break?

Yes, Emily?

Guess what I found?

What did you find?

A treasure map! A treasure map!

Treasure? My, my- what does it say.

I don't know! I can't read it.

Well, I can't read it either. How are we going to find the treasure, then?

Maybe we can ask someone to help?

[Xerxes Break is combing tangles out of his little doll's hair when the whirr of the PCD alerts him to the fact that it's been turned on. The doll pipes up right away, in her irritating falsetto;]

Ow ow owowowow stop pulling!

I wouldn't have to pull if you hadn't let yourself get this tangled, Miss Emily.

[The ventriloquism is perfect. She continues;]

Help! Please! If someone on the network can hear meeee-

Don't be silly, Miss Emily, you couldn't live with anyone else. None of them would have the patience to put up with your temper or the insults you like to hurl.

Belated well wishes to everyone for the various everythings-

Now that we're post explosions, shall we touch base with one another? I feel utterly out of touch. Like this year has started out of the gate like a horse with its tail on fire.

Perhaps it's all the new arrivals. Hello, little things! I hope all your questions have been answered. If they haven't perhaps I could give it a go, hm?

I have a question, for anyone out there who's listening and is in the mood for a little thought.

What is your home? How do you define it?

[The PCD shows his little apartment is now all but empty. There's a small packed box, with foraged food, a few blankets and clothes. The entire contents of his life here fit into one little pile- Emily rests merrily on top. Her dress is becoming frayed, stained with dust. He'll have to take care of that soon.]

To what extent have you made this place your home, and if you have, what has helped you make that transition? If you have not, what holds you back?

I'll have lived here a year this Sunday.

[There is no video feed this time. Just the grind and grit of gravel shifting, the dripping sounds of water and Break's laughter. His voice misses 'merry' by a long shot. He sounds like he might be going into shock.]

What lovely, lovely, lovely hospitality.

[Whispering conspiratorially to the device. Every breath he takes hitches, catching in his throat.]

Though I must say, I wasn't even offered tea.

[Breaking silence this soon is risky, but Break might be desperate. He has nowhere to go, and won't last out here like this.]