TT: Dude! TT: Where you at, man. TT: Wait. TT: Which computer are you using? TT: I'm not comfortable knowing my words could be hovering over Cage's clownish, sort of gaunt face. TT: Could you maybe switch back to naked blue chicks as your exclusive desktop fodder? TIA. TT: But yeah. TT: I don't know if you just want a little solitude. TT: Or if maybe you finally just got like, TT: A case of Strider fatigue. TT: I could understand that. TT: I mean, not to get all neurotic on you. TT: I'm just saying I get it, if that's what's going on. TT: But for real, if you gotta sneak away for a few days, that's cool. TT: Just might be kind of dope if you at least would let me know which planet you scurried off to. TT: And by dope I guess I mean considerate? TT: Really not trying to be a drag here. TT: Wondering what's up is all. TT: Want to meet up soon? TT: I found a really promising tomb we could raid. TT: Looks like it runs hella deep. TT: If I've got the specs right, could run as deep as the Lion's Mouth itself. TT: But without all the fuckin' fire to deal with. TT: Wait, I mean Lion's Mouth. TT: Gotta underline that key shit. Always forget. TT: Figure it should take a couple days to make it to the bottom. TT: Only a day if we both go limp and just fall the whole way down the stairs. TT: Ignoring literally every sage warning we've ever received about those treacherous plummetation zigzags. TT: Just tumbling on down in a floppy limbed trance like a couple of puppets in a race arranged by some drunk gamblers. TT: If you're into another expedition, head to LOTAK and hit me up. Just don't forget your mask this time. TT: The deeper we go, the worse it gets, remember? TT: Could be some unreal grist down there. TT: More puzzle shit. TT: Loads of skeletons. TT: Pack your guns dog.