Journal of Rock Gladstone

So the big head honcho guy around here has been missing for a week or so, and while you’d think this would be a nice fat opportunity for me, my talents have been dismissed. That Horatio Caine guy from TV showed up and took over the investigation. He was very mean to me when all I was trying to do was help. He’s got everyone running around doing that fancy, high-tech stuff like looking for clues and following leads and everything. But he doesn’t seem to be having any better luck finding Slovman than I did. And now all these zombies are running around attacking everywhere, and there’s something about Sodacrotch Guy. I found out who Sodacrotch Guy really is. I have it written on a note. But I can’t read it because my handwriting is bad. I wonder if figuring out who Sodacrotch is would help solve the Slovman kidnapping…

Anyway, I better stop typing. The zombies might be able to hear me. I’m in a closet, by the way.

It’s been awhile, I know. I’ve been trying to keep myself from flying into a rage about this whole “television station” business at Halls Isle. Most importantly, that its news anchor is someone named “Luke Seely.” I’ve never heard of him, though he looks an awful lot like Metal Joe. I’m sure that’s a coincidence, though.

What angered me is that I was not asked to anchor this news program. I have a great deal of experience with anchoring news. I know how to read a teleprompter (the trick is knowing that the words scroll UP) and I know when to turn my head to a different camera so long as someone tells me when to do that. I was great at my job until that bacon-grease-related incident I’m still not ready to talk about. So why didn’t they ask me? I’m thinking racism. It’s because I’m 1/25th Turkish.

Now, I’m not saying I’d take the job. I love…tolerate my duties as a private detective too much to leave them behind for the hustle-bustle world of news anchoring. But they should have at least asked me. In the meantime, I’ll be keeping an eye on this “Luke Seely” character. He’ll slip up one of these days, and then I’ll know who he really is.

Other than a big mean smelly jerk who took the job I shoulda had, gosh darnitt all to heck.