[18 November 2008 4pm]

My body is suspending in a horrific equilibrium between two waving palm trees. “Hardigan! Hardigan! Can’t you see I’m Hardigan??” I scream as my captors prod me with flaming pig skulls that they obviously retrieved from the wallowing pigsty of the Midwest.

 

Let’s back up a bit, right now, in this moment where I am suspended between life and death, and allow me to explain the circumstances which brought me into my present predicament.