There is always hope.

It's time we considered something seriously. Let me just throw this out there, stir it around it a bit, chew on this food for thought if you will. What I'm about to say is shocking, make sure you aren't reading this while standing up or taking a shower with your monitor wrapped in cellophane, like I often do. Ok, ready? Spontaneous "human" combustion. Yes. It's real, and it could happen to any of us at any time. Every waking minute we are in grave danger of turning into a giant walking fireball. So for you people in the CIA, FBI, NSA, DOE, and DOD who are reading this, and I very well know you are, pay attention, and you too Rody Piper, I know you're still alive. There is a new form of international terrorism at loose, and this version wont end with bald eagles perching on top of flag poles. No, not quite, not at all. This version ends with human torches, but these ones wont be flying around beating up bad guys, these ones will be running through the un-mentionables isle of Walmart, and jumping out of windows of drive-thru fast food restaurants, screaming in ways we thought only rabbits could. There you are, at your favorite restaurant enjoying a nice fondue, when suddenly your 10 year old explodes into violent flames, runs out into the middle of the street and gets hit by a Chevy blazer going 90 mph, exploding and shooting body parts, melted packing peanuts, and car parts everywhere. I apologize for explaining these images so bluntly, but I need to create awareness, and if I butter it up for you and say that maybe Cher's hair will catch fire on Oprah, maybe a few harmless flaming chipmunks will dive off cliffs to end their misery, and that'll be the end of it, I would be lying to you. No, I mustn't censor you, you need to know the horrible horrible truth, and prepare for the utter worst.

That's why I'm off, on a mission to Phoenix, AZ, then to Las Vegas, to investigate the causes and effects of SHC (Spontaneous Human Combustion), that and to get very very drunk, and party for a week before school starts. I depart Saturday morning on the back of Falkor, my luck dragon, and will not return until the 19th. I might squeeze in an article on Friday, but if not this will be my last article until I return. That is if I don't succumb to the fate of those exploding around me. I give myself a 2.3% chance of survival... so I want you to know that I love you all very much. Pray for me to our dark lord Satan, and wish me luck.

I am, dear misses and sirs,
your's, truly,
Kevin V. Lewis