Sausage Speaks: S.T.A.L.L.I.O.N. has left the building HE MEWLED.

A big hope threat never plied too much on the group's feelings less an open zippered lollygagger. Big voodoo's throbbing through the old dowsing rod.

We inch to your hot weeping corner, S.T.A.L.L.I.O.N, and it has been recorded. Your absence from peachy constitutional do-gooding over the last past has brought us half-mast. But the big however.

Your founding is demanding, and the little fellas have carved their names in the letters you gave them on the big trunk. Letting them down is pumping cooking up horse medicine, and you would know down the other end perhaps? Hey mastery, whodunnit?

We wait and wait for new age clarity.

Stephen, I need you by my side, our dilemma is dawning.

Eternal Peace,
Doctor Eight