October 8, 2018; Writing for Marty

My name is Bill. I’m one of Marty’s friends; though if you’ve been reading this diary, you probably already know that.

We got Marty back today. Three days ago, he was part of a brave group of warriors who went to investigate the Fuckboy situation in New York. We lost contact with all of them. As of now, only Marty has been found. None of us know what happened, and he… well, I’ll just say he isn’t in the best state to tell us. After finding this journal with him, I want to be able to continue his story because he would want me too. But right now, I barely know anything.

I keep saying that we found him, and that’s partially true. We found him, yes, but not on our own. It was due to a magic beacon that was sent out from his location, near the side of a highway in Nevada. It obviously wasn’t him who sent it; he doesn’t have that kind of power. Something else must be going on. Somebody delivered Marty back to us.

Marty’s waking up now. I’m going to go see how he’s doing. Maybe he’ll want to write something.

If all goes well, this is the last time I will write in Marty’s diary.

-Bill

I’m c old.
Can I haVe some
mil K ?
Wh ats wROng wi th me
I fel funnee.

-M A r T Y

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