Darkness has descended

Darkness has descended upon Renaissance Square.

First, the Squire ran afoul of the mysterious and evil Marge, who commandeered this very blog as Atown-Liker lay dead in the gutter, a victim of non-alcoholic beer. Then the Squire's loyal ally, the Duchess, was attacked while recovering from cosmetic surgery that went awry and accidentally injected with some sort of performance enhancing amphibian extract by one of Marge's minions. She was last seen in the form of a monster swimming in the Mediterranean Sea in the general direction of Allentown.

Other allies of the Squire, the Green Guy and Miss Emily were hounded into hiding, retreating into the woods where they played tricks on one of Marge's dimwitted henchmen. Even the Squire's cats were turned out of the house and its grounds laced with poison. Later they found refuge in what was once my domain.

A spirit began haunting these halls, the acid tongued yet jovial My Dear Dead Friend Truman.

Then, shockingly, one of Marge's own minions, the rebellious Mr. Player, was struck down in cold blood by Karl, the seemingly mild-mannered gardener of these premises.

Worst of all, Johnny Manana's was put up for sale and an impostor calling itself Cannons opened, with its well-loved painting defaced with inane doodlings by its new management.

It's been a busy month.

Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Maximillian. You may have noticed I am a polar bear cub. But I am much more than that.

My home is in the spirit world. But 140 years ago, when I was a 10-year-old human boy I lived in this very house with my father and sisters.

That was before Marge came into our lives.