Dear Book:

 

It’s been a weirdelicious journey, hasn’t it? I just wanted to thank you for your patience as you let me paint, write and abuse you for the duration of 165 pages. You stood by me through chicken skin as I plucked your feathers and dipped them in ink to tell my stories. You are a vessel of truth and disaster. You embraced my catastrophic behaviors without ever flipping out, and for that I will always love you.

 

At this point in our journey, you will run through a machine that will clone you over and over. I am sorry to admit that this has all been an experiment and ruse of my insatiable scientific soul, for I wondered about the very stuff that makes for the nuttiest book in the world. Since I have discovered it in you, I will be replicating your essential matter, mutating it into grotesque formats, and sending you all over the world.

 

Safe travels, and may the black sheep guide thy steps.