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So on the twenty-third day of the twelfth month in the third year of our Hawk, our merry band set off once more in search of the elusive Nest of the Hawk.

A HAWK NEVER FORGETS HOW TO MURDER A MAN, he thought. Similarly, the Nest never tells Nob about Nob Pamming a blow up doll of himself in the cupboard at midnight.

Au voir monsieur Chunnel!

My name is Andrew Collins and I am a bad man.

As such, this journal is henceforth friends only. Add me if you wish, and I will return the favour, AS I AM SO LONELY.