Not long now before I’m released! It will be nice to get the old turban back on.

It turns out that the cache of bones in the house belonged to priests from the old days. One of the Killkaties ancestors lured them into the priest hole with the promise of a safe haven and a secret tunnelled exit. Once he felt he had enough, he bricked up the entrance. Sadly he had also bricked up the exit…

I have also received a cryptic communication from Uncle Frank.
“Heh-heh-heh.” What on earth can that mean?




  1. This is the problem with artistic types right here.

    Instead of using that one phone call to get in contact with your lawyer to get you out of prison in 24hrs, you used it to send a blog note! Now, we have to wait with bated breathe in order to find out if you get released soon or if Frankie beats you to the punch and dies of hepatitis first!

Type away, me hearties! Type until your hands are sore...

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