O Mighty and Most August Fanner of the Flames of Fanrath and Fluffer to the Stars, In the Pursuit of Which You Can Earn 17-22 Dollars Per Hour (which is a lot more than minions get for performing essentially the same services, if I may be so bold, O Dangling Preposition of the Horns of Tiburon), The Large Jawed Asian woman and I are circling the courthouse for some reason. Every so often she slows down and scans the premises with a toy pair of binoculars that she fortuitously discovered while tearing through a box of Terran snacks --- very delicious snacks; it contained both peanuts and popcorn slathered with a lovely combination of chemicals. When she wasn't looking, I ate the empty box --- as though she is hoping to see something. I am also startled by the ease with which she has accepted me, Your Infinitude. True, there was a bad moment when she opened the trunk at Kinko's to dump the empties she had consumed while driving, but after I explained that I had accidentally fallen into it because "my Engrish so bad I thought was public lavatory", she tossed me onto the sidewalk and instructed me to stand guard over her. So I reared up on my tail to make myself at least eye level. There was a moment of panic, but then when she noticed two Kinko's customers running off at the sight, I could tell she was relieved to have me at hand. I think it is partly due to my minion skills, but then I figured out that if anyone would accept a glowing yellow creature with a lampshade on his head and a tail as a small Asian, it probably would be someone who has been living the hallucinogenic fantasy that the Large Jawed Woman has immersed herself in since she was a young girl. I probably make as much sense as anything else to her. There was a small monent when she actually entered the store itself, a sort of collective moan from the Terr--- people, I mean people, who work there, when she slapped the collection of paperwork she wanted copied on the counter. "This again, " I heard one of them mutter. "Twice as long as Mein Kampf and only half as funny." We are slowing down again, so I will seize the opportunity to dispatch this message and snork down some empty Doritos bags I see in the back seat. Cool Ranch! My favorite! Your faithful minion, One Hung Low

We are on the move, O Mighty One! The Large Jawed Woman, or as I must now refer to her, Ms. Hanoi, has driven off from her domicile on the way to Kinko's for yet another of her efforts on their computers (her own has suffered much damage of late because of Cheetoh dust clogging up the keys). But, Your Loveliness! She has cleverly disguised herself so that she cannot be recognized as the Large Jawed Woman. Well, she can still be recognized for her large jaw, but now she looks like a Terran from the eastern hemisphere. This morning I observed her carefully taking strips of Scotch tape and pressing them to the sides of her eyelids to force them into an upward slant. Then she began dabbing ochre makeup across her face until she was the color of a slightly baked snack of the sort that she prefers. Finally, she removed the head of a mop, dipped it into black shoe polish, and when it dried, placed it over her own greying tresses. The final touch was to don a pair of black pajamas and put a pair of flip flops on, and breep-o, O Mighty Shovel! Where once stood the Large Jawed Woman, now stood the Large Jawed Asian Woman! Meanwhile, I followed her lead and disguised myself as well. I am now calling myself One Hung Low, and you would not recognize your faithful minion! I managed to find a small can of yellow paint in one of the sheds, and doused myself in it pretty thoroughly. The only drawback was that it turned out to be phosphorescent, so I now tend to glow in the dark. At the moment, as I make this report to the Mother Sh --- I mean, to headquarters --- I am in the trunk of the Mercedes. It's a little uncomfortable because the bottom of the space has rusted out (to say nothing of the small skeletons of cats and dogs that are rattling around in here with me), but thanks to the glow of my skin, I can see well enough to type. The only thing I could do with my hair, or really my lack of hair, was to grab one of the lampshades and stick it on top of my head. It looks like a sampan hat, or at least that will be my story if anyone questions me when I climb out of the trunk at Kinko's once we arrive. There was a bad moment as she backed out of the driveway. The towel she normally hangs over her license plate had dropped off, and when she got out to secure it more firmly, a man came up with a piece of paper in his hand and attempted to speak with her. "Miss H?" he asked. "No Miss H! Miss H no here!! Me Missy Hanoi, longtime same no see Miss H!!! No Miss H!!!" The Large Jawed Woman was alarmed, and tried to get back into her car. Unfortunately, when she slammed the door, it dropped off its rusted hingers and onto the poor Terran's right foot. "Shit!!" He began hopping up and down on one foot. "So solly! Miss Hanoi so solly!! Miss Hanoi go now, all same solly!!!!" I had to hold onto the walls of the trunk with all four limbs and my tail as she spun the car into reverse and roared off down the street, leaving behind a trail of empty McFlurrie cups and half-eaten fried pies. Your faithful minion, One Hung Low

O Grand and Glorious One, Sorry for the long silence on my end, Your Flatulence, but I have been deeply undercover now for months, and mercy me, O Harbinger of Hilarity, six of my nine eyes have been permanently damaged by the experience. Oh, the sights I have seen! I spent most of the winter disguised as a sofa cushion on the Large-Jawed Woman's covertible bed outside on the front porch of the Littlerock dwelling, and let me tell you, it was rough. Not only did I have to endure her rather enormous asspharti descending upon me at regular intervals, and the occasional Cheetoh rammed up my nose when she accidentally dropped them during a feeding frenzy, she also hid the bodies of small felines and canines behind the sofa in an effort to keep the forces of Animal Justice from uncovering them during their regular visits to her domicile. Actually, though, I think the Large-Jawed Woman was grateful for the attention. She would swipe cages that they brought to remove her animals and stuff them down her jeans. Later she would sell them, thereby purchasing the electrical current she needs to maintain her computational device and the never-ending war with her enemies. The numbers of which increaseth daily and droppeth like the dew from above. She has now succeeded in annoying the ASPCA in the neighboring five counties, all of her neighbors upon her former street, and some poor Terran who approached her outside of Kinko's to ask the time, and whom she drove before her screaming about how she was the victim of stalking. All he could say was "Geeze, lady, lady, please, lady, I just wanted to buy some paper clips!" but the Large-Jawed Woman would not be mollified. And now here we sit in a cave out in the desert. It's not bad, it reminds me of Denbar VIII and the happy times I spent there with Minion Tom Cruise under the Rings of Roombath. I am now disguised as a rock, but frankly, O Mighty Shovel, I could probably sit in front of her with Christmas lights around my neck and she wouldn't even notice. All she does is wear a tinfoil hat and throw darts at pictures of Terrans. They are labeled with names like "Mitzi" and "Huiko" and "Blake". She kind of laughs to herself a lot too. To tell you the truth, I'm a little afraid. Can I come in from the cold now? Your faithful Minion, Illuminati