The Curious Reader: I got a message you needed me to come over.

 

TDIA: Yes.  I sent one of our new interns.  Listen, it’s ratings week and I have to much to do so I need you to entertain the clamoring public.  No eyeballs, no advertising. 

 

The Curious Reader: I see.  And what’s in it for me?  I don’t need any more spandex bikinis.

 

TDIA: You get to read some more about Col. Trevelyan Makeshift-Bastion.

 

The Curious Reader: Fair enough.

 

TDIA:  It’s all yours.  [Exit to basement.  Sounds of many locks and bolts being secured]

 

The Curious Reader: [Reads]

 

Day 53

 

We arrived at Camp 4 last night after nightfall.  After a few rounds of I Spy the chaps fell silent.  The cream we sent up in the spring had gone sour.  It is always distressing to see grown men cry.  There is a howling wind outside which makes it almost impossible to hear the gramophone but at least it drowns out the sounds of Thackering freezing to death outside.  The cad put ice cream in the gravy boat.  We sent him outside with the service revolver to do the honorable thing but so far he refuses to go with dignity.  If he doesn’t freeze soon we shall have to have a bit of a sing song to drown out his whining – it is bad for the other chaps’ morale.  I don’t know how many more letters I shall be able to write to you, old chap; the natives we send on the letter runs seem not to be returning and we will need them to serve at table when we reach the summit.

 

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