Dear Lady Pandora,

I'm not sure I understand this current prank yet. However, I have admit
I feel like the breeches have been pulled over my head and someone has
filled my eyepatch with lye, so perhaps the goal has been achieved.

It will surely be a pleasure to spend every morning checking our limbs
haven't turned into something hilarious and possibly on fire, and every
night looking under the pillows for holobombs that explode to the sound
of flatulence. A toast to Your name, and mortality's good fortune at
Your refocusing of attention upon Sapience once more.

Signed,
Finchy Ithilien

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Lupar, in the year 592 AF.