We shall use bigger rocks

a

Sept. 23, 1868

Hello all. It is I, Maximillian A. Bear Jr.

Karl, Miss Emily, Truman and myself have arrived safely via the time portal to my family's home in Allentown.

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We have spent most of our time here with my father honing our plans to kill the demon blogger Marge, the scourge of Renaissance Square.

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Karl and Miss Emily have adjusted quite nicely to 19th century life. Karl has become something of a local celebrity with his topiary creations and Miss Emily has been spending much of her time playing hide-and-go-seek with my younger sisters and the cats that once belonged to the late Atown-Liker. (Actually one might argue that that good man has yet to be born.) Miss Emily is quite good at the game, actually. We haven't been able to find her for two days.

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As for myself, my circumstances could not be happier. Upon entering the time portal I was restored from a polar bear cub spirit into a regular boy and was returned to my loving family.

Truman, though, has met a less fortunate fate. As you know, spirits cannot enter a time portal. However, Truman and I animated two polar bear rugs before entering the portal. I, of course, was restored to my human form. Truman, however, was transformed into a living polar bear rug. He has not adjusted well to that transformation and has been complaining bitterly.

There has been one fortuitous aspect to Truman's otherwise unfortunate circumstance. He has retained his spirit ability to fly. We have discovered that three people -- my father, Karl, and myself -- can sit comfortably on his back as we fly the Allentown skies at night like King Solomon on his magic carpet. (Curiously, we have lately found ourselves accompanied by numerous crows during our test excursions, a good omen, I hope.)

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Truman shall be our means of conveyance as we fly to Japan to confront a much younger (and smaller) version of Marge than the one with which we were acquainted in 2008.

My father, a demon hunter of some renown -- he has been credited most notably with destroying Chad the Inhaler -- has after years of study divined the surest means by which to kill Marge: A rockslide.

Of course during my unhappy existence in the future I learned that this particular attempt on Marge's life will fail miserably. In fact, Marge will use the rockslide as an excuse to eat her younger brother and increase her already formidable powers.

But this time, thanks to an idea from Karl, we have a solution: We shall use bigger rocks.

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We leave for Japan in the morning. Wish us Godspeed.