From:    Toni Ward <toniward26@******.***> 
To:      The World Oligarchy
Date:    Fri Dec 17, 2004 3:48 pm 
Subject: My return to the Oligarchy...


The tale of my disappearance, and the announcement of my return...

The story is long, but I shall sum up. The events are near tragic but I shall
hold back details that would make your stomache turn. The lesson you may ask?
Never visit the People’s Republic of Maryland without backup.

There was a time when I visited the Fortress of doom weekly. It was a time of
triumph and success, of drunken binges and claims to beat people. I was Paul
Pulley’s high priestess. I was recognized. I was. If I remember correctly I
may have even been a junior grade prophet, maybe not, the time was long ago and
my mind still reels from the events thereafter.

Leaving North Carolina and the Fortress of Doom, I embarked upon a journey to
find myself and perhaps be more of an out of state operative. After finding the
land of California to be, inhabitable at best, I moved again to the land of my
birth, the cursed world we call the People’s Republic of Maryland. I thought I
could slip in unnoticed, I thought I could slip in safely. I thought wrong.

All was quiet for awhile and it would seem that I had passed under radar
undetected. It was surprisingly just after Christmas when I was captured. They
came in the dark of night those dogs, sneaking into my place of business as an
apple tech support agent, and scooping me up with such haste and undercover
necessity that they left only my precious headset as any sign that I had been
there in the first place. One minute I was surrounded by the secure sounds of
murmured voices saying "Thank you for Calling Apple, how can I help you?" the
next I was cast into a world of chaos. Drugged, I was taken to some sort of
holding facility. From there I was transferred via what I can only assume to be
some sort of Canadian looking submarine. Damn those Canadians, I should have
known from the first that they would be in on it.

Ripped away from the world I was at this point rendered somewhat helpless and my
contact with the World Oligarchy came to an abrupt and unexplainable (at the
time) halt. Finally, after much traveling I was brought to some sort of
facility based not on an ice flow in the arctic, but rather underneath it. It
would appear that somehow the People’s Republic of Maryland were organizing a
plot and amassing some army to stand against the World Oligarchy. In a place
known by code name “North Pole” I would learn that this plot went far deeper and
was far more dastardly than I could have imagined.

Not long after my arrival I was brought before the general of these armies, the
president of the North Pole if you will, Santa Claus. I could barely believe my
eyes. Long had I known Santa Claus to be an evil being hell bent on making
Christmas an every day activity, a ceremony of death and destruction created to
bend the minds of children and adults alike, but I had no idea that he had
allied himself with the infamous People’s Republic of Maryland, the PRM if you
will. Not only was he involved, but moreover it was a letter to him that had
turned me in. As it turns out a mall operative dressed as a mall Santa had
written to the true St. Nick, providing information and pictures of my shopping
habits to include my purchase of Duct tape in mass quantities, aluminum foil,
Zippo lighters, Lego’s and human skulls. Obviously they pegged me as a member
of the World Oligarchy and at this point sought further information to include
my name and location.

While in the facility I was tortured to an extent that would make a grown man,
yes even the mighty Paul Pulley himself cry. I was forced to listen to
“Christmas” music, eat poisoned “Christmas” cookies. Worse than that I was
forced to laugh until my cheeks turned a rosy shade; this of course done in the
hopes that it would spread the poison they called “Christmas cheer” through my
system at a faster rate. To this day I still have nightmares that chill me to
the bones. They did not however, count on my strength and the constitution
achieved during my time in the Fortress of Doom (aka the Drunken Rampages). I
was able to sustain consciousness for a majority of my time there, while at the
same time acting as if I were spent. This allowed me to serve as an operative
while I was stuck there, to garner information that may be helpful if returned
to the Oligarchy.

I found out that the “elves” as they were called, are considered to be Santa’s
elite fighting force. I also found plans by Mr. Claus for world domination,
plans that included gifts fill with nuclear weaponry set to go off at the tug of
a bow. For years he had been securing the idea of trust. The idea that if it’s
gift-wrapped with a bow it must be something good. The contents however hold
materials that are far from good I assure you. In a later report I shall
divulge in detail the plans of Mr. Claus to include the biological warfare
materials built into the reindeer.

While there I also was able to gain new contacts via other prisoners to this
Citadel of Christmas Debauchery. Working undercover, I was able to form a
resistance group called P.A.S.S. (Persons Against Santa’s Shit) Utilizing the
brilliant and deftly trained skills of this group, I was able to further
infiltrate the citadel in order to ensure my escape via a stolen underwater
vehicle. After our escape I had the vehicle explode in a “freak” accident so
that no trace of where we would be going, or what our intentions were could be
found. The elves had put up a grand fight, and we’d lost a few in the battle.
But the knowledge we returned from that icy fortress was well worth the cost.

I now operate under the name Baron Von Stuffing and am the President and Grand
Leader of P.A.S.S. Our home base is currently a one bedroom apartment I share
with my one handed cohort, Lord Lichtenstub (undercover name) in which we make
plans to destroy Mr. Claus’s evil plot. Recently joined by General Sauerkrauten
I am most confident that our efforts will not be in vain. On January first,
Lord Lichtenstub and I will be present at the Oligarchy gathering in the hopes
of unifying P.A.S.S under Oligarchy standards. More importantly, it will mark
my return into the Oligarchy which I have missed for so very long. All Hail the
Fortress of Doom!

-Toni Ward
High Priestess of Paul Pulley
Siren of Angst
Member of Clan Smacktalk