My Dearest Nephew,
No doubt you have already received your uncle Scaligar’s recounting of events around my cave the other night. Impossible as it may seem, his letter seems to have been marginally accurate. That does seem pretty impossible, doesn’t it?
Just as your uncle described, he arrived at my cave late the other evening and, by means of such infernal and unholy devices as a hot-dog machine, a cape and a ring of flaming bowls of oil, managed to almost banish my unwanted relatives from the area. The keyword in that sentence was ‘almost’.
As it happened, Gaertho left behind in my cave his bag of tobacco as he had left rather hurriedly when your uncle Scaligar dunked him in flaming oil. I discovered this upon returning to my cave and leapt into hasty action.
It was an hour before Gaertho returned for his tobacco pouch, and a very scorched and furtive creature he was now, always looking around for your uncle Scaligar in a state of extreme anxiety.
I graciously gave him back his outsized tobacco bag and he was on his way in a hurry. I decided not to tell him that in his absence I had added a claw-full of powdered sulfur and half a bag of what the humans around here call ‘Black Powder’ to his tobacco supply. I consider it a gift from me to him in remembrance of my lost books.
After that I attempted to take a nap but found this impossible due to a tremendous racket on my doorstep. Upon investigation I found this brouhaha to be caused by your uncles Scaligar and Trubodox who had gotten into an incredible brawl. I am still not quite sure who actually started the fight as the facts were muddled and the tempers were lost (along with most of the hotdogs).
As far as I can tell, the fight began either when your uncle Trubodox tried to steal the hot-dog stand and your uncle Scaligar threw him in the river and set it on fire (again) or when your uncle Scaligar attempted to feed hot-dog bits to the fish in the river, and your uncle Trubodox booted him into the river from behind and set it on fire.
The only things that I know for sure is that the river outside my cave has been temporarily dammed due to a accidental landslide, both of your uncles managed to nearly extinguish their inner-fires by way of water-inhalation, your uncle Trubodox is babbling about oxygen-racist water-weeds and your uncle Scaligar may never help me in a case such as this again. I am unsure whether this is the worst curse that could be tossed to me, or the sweetest blessing I have ever known. I shall have to reserve judgment.
-Your servant, mentor and uncle,
P.S. by the way, I have lately received notification of the next secret-war-meeting! I can hardly wait!