[insert here sounds of fast footsteps, excited giggling, and background noise of all-around city mayhem.]

Ehehe, these guys sure know how to PLAY!!

In the short time I have been here on Midgard I've been told that I am fictional, that I am not allowed to carry a blade in the open, and that my clothes leave something to be desired. [ the feed shows an unnaturally tall teenager, dressed what can only be described as a red halter top and a skit made of white strips of fabric with one white sleeve. ] I fail to see why - I'm capable of fighting in it. What more does one require?

To say nothing regarding my sword! It should not be something to cause panic but rather to comfort others that I am more than capable of defending them should they require it. I see now why the Allfather was loathe to let my friends and I explore this realm - adventure would be hard to come by with rules such as these. Though it's more advanced than we had been led to believe…

If anyone has seen a blond individual carrying a hammer and causing property damage, let me know. I'll take care of him.

[The video feed comes on, showing a woman with an extremely foul expression on her face. She looks lost somewhere between completely confused and totally pissed off.]

So I'm supposed to believe that I used to be a fictional character and now I'm not a fictional character and I have to learn how to not be a fictional character because my fictional life is somehow different from not having a fictional life?

[Kate takes a breath.]

I have a headache. Anyone who is not completely insane wanna tell me what the hell is going on?

[there is a HUGE HUGE sigh here ... the type that can only really come from little girls experiencing the worst of inconveniences.]

This game isn't very fun! I'm booooored. Won't someone play a new game with Luki?

Um ... what's a "date"?

[tap tap tap. the sharp tip of a six-foot metallic blade nudges against the ground, knocking up a little dust. behind him is the sky, wide in its expanse, broken by the wide swing of the sword. he's holding the handle like a baseball bat, and he does it again, and again, like he's trying to hit a curve ball that keeps whizzing past his temple.]

Not a bad swing, huh?

[with a chuckle, he clicks his tongue and points a forefinger at the sky where the comet would be, thumb outstretched like a gun.]

Home run.

Uwehh, nobody plays hide and seek all that good here. Luki's been hiding for a really long time and nobody found me!

BEHOLD, PEOPLE OF NEW MOORE. LOOK UPON ME! LOOK UPON ZIM!

What filthy lies do these miserable monkeys tell to ZIM?! What is this nonsense of ‘Make-Believe’? TELL ME! I have been informed by these so-called ‘Authorities’ that I am a work of human fiction? NONSENSE! They speak only lies and cannot be trusted. This I see now, and I must first set up my base of-

My... My new home. Hoooo Boy. Moving sure is hard. What a totally horrible inconvenience in my completely normal Earth-maggot life, this moving is. Yes. That sounds adequate, indeed.

Yeah, you!

What's the use of lying around and whinging, huh? Yeah, so your mates ditched you a second time. Yeah, it's horrible and depressing and all that rot. But you have to admit they were a bit off, so chalk it up to one of those incredibly fucked up situations that just happens here. It wasn't down to you so stop beating yourself up cos I know you LOVE doing that, but it's not about you, yeah? Mope about it, go off the deep end if you must, but then pick your robot self back up and move the fuck on. Cos let me tell you mate, if you're stuck thinking about all the terrible shit that's happened and the people who aren't here, you're going to miss out on a whole lot.

Cos this island's not all bad, is it? Of course it isn't. If it was all bad, we'd've all killed each other long ago. But we haven't! For some cocked up reason, a part of everyone actually likes it here! Yeah, we're trapped. Yeah, we get forcefed complete bullshit about our lives. Yeah, there's not nearly enough beautiful women to go around. But so what? Everyone's got something that'll keep 'em here, and don't even try to pretend you don't. Even if you hate every bloody person on the island, I'm sure there's at least one you'd stick around for.

And I know what you're going to ask. So why do people leave then? Fuck if I know. Frankly I don't think there's any rhyme or reason to why they go, because there's a-list people who left too soon and then there's miserable cocksuckers who should've gone long ago but are still here. So you can't let it get to you. Don't let the island get in your head and do shit to you. Say FUCK YOU! and turn it right back around. Mahatma Gandhi said that the best revenge is a life well-lived, and to be fair he was a celibate, wrinkly old fuck, but he was probably at least half right.

So everyone, but especially you, needs to chin up and get a little revenge. If you let this knock you down and ruin you, New Moore wins. But if you don't let it ruin you and turn you into a sad, boring shit, you win. And we all want to win, don't we? Isn't that what it's all about?

Who's with me?