Ill

That dratted sickness, always running about ruining people's birthdays, or the days immediately after! He should have learned by now that it doesn't make him any more liked. Perhaps he just doesn't care what we think of him. I'd like to teach him a lesson in manners, but I doubt he'd respect me as a teacher after the lessons I've taken in how-to-catch-your-vomit-in-a-bucket.

I like the time warp idea! Does it mean you get to throw a birthday party all over again? It had better not be a faulty warp, or you might find yourself charging into ancient Norway, and we'll never hear from you again except from dusty tomes and stone carvings that tell of the fair-haired gentleman that fell out of the sky with a half eaten cake. A wondrous man, really, but couldn't speak a word of Norwegian, and had the strange habit of making quiet lightning flashes with a strange metal box he carried about. Amusing as those might be to read, it would require an English translation for us to understand any of it.

Other the slight potential risk, it's a great idea! So, er, charge onward! (When you're ready, of course.)