@Patient Interview 3: Damn Merrick, you crazy. More, please.

@Make the World Beautiful: Poor Joker.

@Suspicious Circumstances: Idly curious as to how you went about making this thingy.

@Rise of the Prophet, Part 2: Damn, goblins are scary little monsters.

Anyways, here's the next MagJournal thingy. I'm as surprised as anyone else at the speed with which I'm cranking these things out. Already have a pretty good idea of what I'm going to do with the fourth, too.

Post-Death MagJournal Entry 3 Ė Day One ofÖCrap, Which Circle Am I On? First, Second? Screw it, Iíll Ask Someone and Add It In When I Get to Entry 4.

So I did exactly as I said I would at the end of the last MagJournal entry, and got a job at Kalís place today. Itís pretty nice for a Hell, actually. He wasnít lying to me about that, Iíll give him that much. Itís a bit lewd for my tastes though, which should come as a surprise to absolutely nobody, seeing as how Iíve made it clear before that Iím not really a fan of the whole Ďspiky codpiece and flaming pastiesí aesthetic. Thereís only so much of what Iíve seen that I can actually put to ink and paper, of course, for fear that Libby will somehow find it and then go catatonic at the thought of a uvula piercing or whatever, but goddamn, theyíve got some really messed up stuff down here. I honestly have no idea why anyone would want a barbed-wire top hat, nor do I want to.

Luckily, Iím not really going to be hit with the dress code that badly. Not right now, at an entry level rank, anyways. See, it turns out the harpoon I got hit with back when I was alive counts as a piercing, and a big enough of one to meet all their silly stylistic requirements. Iím sorta glad for that, I guess, but I was finally about to get around to trying to remove the thing from my midsection, so itís a bit of a mixed blessing. The big olí thing makes getting around insanely difficult, of course, since not everything is just open space like it was back on Limbo, but Iíve been able to manage well enough so long as I donít try turning around in narrow hallways or anything. Iím also told that it can slide right out of my chest without any effort at all (well now I feel really stupid for not even trying), my chest will just reform until itís time to put the thing back in, and it can be used as a spear, if weíre ever invaded and Iím without a better weapon, so thatís definitely a huge bonus. Not allowed to remove it unless I have a fight to the death situation or Iím sleeping with someone or something, for dress code reasons, but Iím sure Iíll find a battle soon enough. A battle, not thatÖthat other thing.

I havenít seen Kal around, or Decker, but thatís probably for the best, really. Hopefully theyíre both on a really long Nexus vacation or business thing right now, because I really donít need anybody I already know giggling at the new guy as he stumbles around with a huge lump of metal in his torso, gawking in horror at every last eyelid piercing, animated winking butt tattoo, and extra set of eyeballs his poor little mind fails to block out entirely. Most of these fools seem to be mistaking my horror for shameless ogling too, and as friendly and/or a kid as Decker might be (I canít remember, did she go back to being a grown-up again, or what? Blargh, so confusing), I know for a fact that sheíd be laughing her head off if she was here for all of that. Fudge, even the tour guide, who knew I wasnít from around here, thought my unbridled horror and terrified babbling was a sign of some sort of awkward infatuation, and not the disgust and revulsion for the extra mouth he had at the end of his tongue that it really was.

Speaking of the tour, I forget what they said my job was going to be. It was either lowly footsoldier or part of someoneís harem, I think. Seems like the sort of thing I shouldíve been paying attention to, but I guess Iíll be able to figure it out when they get around to assigning uniforms. I mean, Iím sure itíll be easy enough to tell the difference between Lady Morganaís military force and her personal collection of-


On second thought, I think Iíll go back and double-check with the tour guy. You know, just to be on the safe side. The roles might all be one and the same, too. Since this is Hell and all that. Iíve said enough about the fashions around here as is.

Beyond the weird way everyone dresses and stuff, and also the fact that this journal is being monitored now (I left the first two entries with Libby, and told her to incinerate them if anyone asked about it because all of the embarrassing stuff I wrote about Vasquez in there), I think I might actually grow fond of this place. The foodís alright, if you like the souls of the unworthy, the locals have made it loudly and uncomfortably clear that theyíre up for anything with anybody, and nobody is asking me potentially compromising questions! Yep, this is definitely the place for me!