January 11th, 12:12pm

    I'm sorry I didnt get back to writing. It appears that some poor person slipped on the pickle slice and dropped $100. I used it to play poker with Agent X and ended up binding him to do my work, along with his job of pumping bilges, until he paid his two billon doller debt. I'm surprised he didn't realize I was cheating even when I played my five aces. Mr X though—who claimed to be no relation to Agent X— won a hundred from me. No big loss. Now, I must take a pause to check on that large shriek that sounded like "ARRRRRRRGEHEHERGEETTTITAWWAY!!!"

Dear diary,
    Mr X has gone on a rampage and received minor burns upon trying to kill Sammy the cat. The burns might heal instantly depending on his state of mind and what he writes.