Ketchup (get it?)

Hard to believe it's been three months, Brothers and Sisters, since we've talked. I could offer my usual excuses, but to save time, just assume I made them, and we'll move on.

I figure I can go a long way toward rebuilding trust in my Readership, if I get to work on answering some of my backlog of email. Here we go:

(1) Brother Gustavus writes from Brussels:

Phutatorius, is there any chance you might take "Loot the Church" on the road? Some of us didn't have the dollahs to make the trip to Boston.

We're way ahead of you, Gustavus. I've hired an event planner — Hillary Something-or-Other, she's based in Long Island — and she's lining up a ten-city spring tour down the East Coast. Providence, Hartford, New York, Philly, Wilmington, Harrisburg, Baltimore, Arlington (Virginia), Richmond, Atlanta. We may have a shot at St. Patrick's Cathedral in Manhattan, on ST. PATRICK'S DAY. Would that be sweet or WHAT?

From there, all systems are go for a June-July '07 gig opening for Cirque du Soleil on the Continent — probably your best bet to see us, Gus, though most of the dates will be concentrated in Eastern Europe. Call your friends, pack up the RV, and come on down to Prague. I can't guarantee that I'll be there (visa issues, and I'm busy), but at worst you'll be treated to appearances by "Phutsie's All-Stars" (lineup TBD).

(2) Sister Marsha has these words from County Clare (I believe that's Ireland):

How's the dance-fighter training going? Not so well, I think, based on what I saw on YouTube.

We've asked the folks at YouTube to take down that clip, in part because it discloses certain confidential fighting techniques (I have no intention of going through THAT again), and also because it's not a fair or representative depiction of my fighting prowess. That "demonstration" came after a long afternoon of drinking with the Gang — there may have been some mushrooms involved, too — in short, the intern had no business recording that footage in the first place. Posting it on the 'Net was an even graver breach of trust, and notwithstanding her "considerable assets," I've had her replaced. YouTube is complying with the takedown instruction, but digital copies breed digital copies, and I'm sure that video will crop up again somewhere. If you do happen to see it, don't read anything into it about my skill set.

(3) From Moldova, Brother Turk, with a bit of an edge:

Any progress establishing a headquarters? An underground lair? Hollowed-out volcano, perhaps? What criminal mastermind works out of an apartment in Cambridge?

Let's be clear, Monsieur Turk (if that is your real name) — I'm far from a criminal mastermind. I'm mounting a legitimate, extrajurisdictional challenge to the world's sovereign powers. There's nothing criminal about it.

That said, I could use a base of operations with a bit more storage space. And a conference room. But this isn't Austin Powers, or even Superfriends Versus the Legion of Doom. I don't need a volcano or Hall of Justice or big, black underwater thingy to live in. Any old tract of land with building structures and a T1 connection will do.

Where we are at the moment is, we've set up shop at Frankie Big Cheese's timeshare — the dairy farm in Vermont, if you remember. Went up there during his three-week window back in July, and we just haven't left. Vacationing families keep turning up on Fridays (Turnover Day) to claim their time slots, but we've managed to frighten them away, so far. It's not ideal, plotting for World Domination with minivans pulling up in your driveway all the time. But it's all the cheese you can eat, and we're working on buying out these pain-in-the-ass timeshare owners as they arrive.

(4) Burping Squid writes from wherever he might be, wandering the landscape, with no home to claim him or friend to love him:

You suck, Phutatorius.

Yo mama, Squidley.

Rock On and Peace Out.