But First, A Brief Intermission

Behind the Scenes

“I’M SO BORED!”

Irene, the hotel’s tech support, looks up from her game of Spacecraft for a moment to stare at the rainbow trout patterned mermaid. Back to her game, she sees the swarm of buglings start to attack her barracks. She gathers her troops to try to save the building, just for a second swarm of spitlisks to start pinpoint killing her best units. A few minutes later, the opponents micro skills overwhelms the puffer fish mermaid. “You win again, PenGwen Frostqueen. What are you whining about now, Iris?”

“I’m bored. Entertain me.”

“Look, between dealing with security issues the past couple of days and worrying about Zoe, I really just want to eat some testicles, play my Spacecraft, and go to bed. Don’t you have mail to sort or something? I mean, I put up our address to ship testicles to. One would think some mermaid obsessed fans would’ve done us a solid.”

“That’s why I’m bored. There isn’t any mail. Not one package of testicles or letter all season.”

“If you want, you could help Hestia with the dry cleaning. Apparently, that bitch Beckie is really soiling her seersucker suits at a pretty rapid rate since she moved into her office full-time.”

“Eww. Gross. No. I’m the mail-room mermaid. Cleaning up for that old crone sounds... futile.”

Irene pinches her nose. “Do you wanna learn how to play Spacecraft?”

“Do I look like a nerd?”

Irene just stares at her again. “Go bug someone else.”

“You know,” Iris suggests, “Maybe if we put up another ad asking for mail submissions, we get some letters for me to deliver?”

“Ugh. Go ask Big Sis.”

“She looked real mad last I saw her. Maybe we could do it on our own?”

“I’ll send an e-mail off to the show-runner,” Irene finally relents, “if you go away right after.”

“Deal”

“Great.” Irene turns back around and starts typing:

Hey Show-runner,

Can you collect some fan mail or something to give my irritating older sister Iris something to do? She runs the mail room our blithering idiot of a host insists we have despite the fact that, like any sane organization, we have e-mail and collaboration messaging software. So, since it isn’t the 1920s, she twiddles her thumbs waiting for someone to mail us a batch of human testicles. Wanna help?

Thanks in advance,

Irene the IT Mermaid.

The puffer fish mermaid turns to her sister, “There. Happy. Go away.”

Iris, to her credit, does slowly shimmy away. “Didn’t have to be so mean about it,” she mumbles as she dips into the water.

The Show-Runner

So, the staff has requested that I open up the spigot for some fan mail. Assuming we get some submissions in time, I’ll go ahead and schedule a fan mail reading session the day of Dinah’s date. Given the timey-wimey warping nature of the show and it’s episode release cadence, I humbly request that you submit your fan mail (via the messaging system on site) by 26 Apr 2025.