} Well, may you ask.
} This is the tale of my plight.
} I started my journey in a conversion van with my partners, Mee and
} Yoo, and a dog named Boo. We traveled and lived off the land for a
} few years until we got to Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan. There, we bought a
} huge tract of land and opened a lobster farm. Didn't last too long,
} though, since we soon found out that lobsters tend to smell funny
} if you leave them in the barn overnight. After we sold the farm
} for a huge sum of Canadian money (which, after the exchange rate,
} only turned out to be $1.94 American) I ditched my partners so I
} could go to India and break into show business. I got as far as North
} Carolina before being kidnapped by an anthropomorphic bear, pig, frog,
} and giant yellow bird. After several hours of torture and bad French,
} I told them how to get to Sesame Street and agreed to join them in
} their plot to... uhmmm... do away with a certain little red monster
} who lived there. The plan went awry, however, after we were force-fed
} cookies and made to sing "One of These Things is Not Like the Other"
} in the midst of a counting-induced thunderstorm.
} So, no, gentle supplicant, my email has not been broken. My will
} has been. I have spent the last 2 years under the alias "Mr. Noodle."
} They have not allowed me to speak, see my family, or do anything
} but annoying pratfalls to amuse 3-year-old children who don't know
} any better. I've finally had the chance to escape and tell my story
} to you after finding a portal in a trashcan around the corner from
} the Fix-It Shop. Please, help me get out of....
} HEY! WHAT YOU DOING?!? ELMO NOT LIKE THIS! GET BACK TO WORK, MR.
} NOODLE! MR. NOODLE IS BEING A BAD BOY!!! NO DINNER FOR MR.
} NOODLE THIS WEEK!
} Ooops... heeeheeheeeheee... Elmo sorry for yelling. Mr. Oracle--- er...
} Noodle can't talk to the supplicant right now. Mr. Noodle's email
} is broken. Byebye, kids! Hahahahaheeeeheeeheeehee!