I should be working right now.

I know, it's Friday night, and like any other delinquent adult, I should be out drinking and socializing with young nubile women.

But I'm home under the assumption that I'll be planning for my sortie tomorrow. Though nothing has been done, at least I'm actually home, doing something useful.

Well, not exactly...

Conscience by collective, I have a patent on it.

Everyone else should be doing work also, but it seems that no one is. Must be some form of Mad Cow disease that I haven't heard of, but for some reason, everyone's gone. Yes, they've all gone mad. Stared at the face of death, mocked it, and gone off to face the devil at the local beer dispensing establishment.

Meanwhile, the maps lay strewn on the floor, untouched, unprepared.

It's quite empty here. I can hear my own breathing. Oh well, might as well put my shoes on, and go take a look.

Haven't seen Diablo in a while. Wonder if he still makes martini...