Greetings and salutations, O Chocolate Covered Mounds of Coconut Goodness! Minion Bruce and I have continued to monitor the activities of the Large-Jawed Woman, but these have really been limited to typing on her transmission device and consuming mass quantities of various comestibles, including something called a Ho-Ho, the name of which just gives Minion Bruce fits. Everytime she takes a bite, he whispers in my ear "You are what you eat, right?", which I can't say I understand. But then there is much about Bruce that I am still unable to understand after all our years of . . . well, let's just say "working together" and leave it at that. The Large-Jawed Woman has also downed several cans of an elixir she refers to as PBR. This has an unfortunate effect upon her typing skills. This afternoon she is attempting to pull her files together for her various court dates during the next few weeks. As she struggles with the boxes, the Main Squeeze and the elderly man are watching her, but making no move to help. The elderly man just sighs and asks plaintively, "How the hell am I supposed to sound like I know what I'm talking about if I don't even know the name of the goddman hospital you're claiming to be in?" and the Main Squeeze says things like "It took a hand truck and a bunch of illegals to deliver the last damn filing!" But the Large-Jawed Woman pays them no mind, only occasionally barking a demand for what she refers to as "Mama's little helper". One of them will then begrudgingly hand her a can of the PBR elixir. Minion Bruce departed a few minutes ago, and I am seizing the moment to report in. Your faithful Minion, Illuminati. By the way, I think that the Main Squeeze has convinced her the I am an illusion because I heard him telling her "For Chrissake, don't say anything about the goddamn space people in front of the judge, he's gonna put you in a hatch!"