PD, I NEED HELP

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

IT IS THE END OF 2011 AND I CAN'T GET DOWN FROM WEATHERTOP.

The things people do to each other, PD. I can't get away from it anymore. On the butte where we had our first kiss a boy left his girlfriend's body. At the piers under the bridge a child lay bound in the ninebarks for a week before she died.

These are only the beginning places, PD, and I can't get away from it. I can't get away from the bodies buried in the sand.

They go to the police and the police don't listen. You're just a kid imagining things; shut up, go home.

It's everywhere.

I can't run.

[Slurrealist]

There are a lot of horrible people out, however there also the good ones. The world is so drenched in horror that, sometimes, it's quite difficult to see the bright side, but it's always there, slowly making its way through the eternal flow of life. Focusing on one side of creation mean losing grip on the counterpart, thus skipping away from seeing the Whole.
Also - it may sound new agey, but it's one of the things that I found useful in my life - if you will feel happy, content, or satisfied, the whole Universe will respond. Your vibes will spread, on some levels not yet perceived by human sense, across all the existence, making someone's life better, though you will never know about.
It may sounds stupid, however it helps me to survive in the world around. After all, what the thinker thinks, the prover proves ( In my personal Universe it works)

[BadBeast]

Nigel. Smile, and the World leers back at you. Weathertop is your Chinatown. It's where the Witch King of Angmar poked the tip of his filthy Morgul blade into you, where it snapped of, and began to throb, transmitting on intermittent frequencies. You only see the bodies because you are nowThe Eye. The Eye at the centre of the hurricane of weird freaky shit that happens in Portlands everywhere. The bodies in the sand are not dead. They just wait for the blade tip to find their frequency, latch on, and reanimate them. Their skin is made from the shed skins of growing shoggys. Their blood is made from blue freezypops. And their heads are filled with the shit from mad dogs.
The Police don't listen because the blade is screening your words from them. You say to them "But the bodies. . . . . the bodies!" They hear "My, what a shiny Badge you have, Big Boy", and dismiss you as just another loopy chick with a Uniform fetish.

You are the conduit that will herald the new age of Scream. The signals are broadcast from Portland, Dorset, pulsing out from the empty hollow heart of darkstone, that they built The City of Westminster from. All that remains there now, hanging in the darkness, is The Egg. The source of Scream, from which will hatch the scabby bastard Lizard Child thing that will grow to consume this World of ours

So the only thing I can think of that might help, is to seek the healing middle finger of Elrond Halfelven.
With this mummified digit, you can safely dig out the blade tip, and replace it with Elfnail. This will stop all that unpleasantness at the beach, and the misunderstandings with the Police, but you will have to remain on Portland indefinitely. They will eventually Crown you Queen Nigel of the Portland Hobbits, but you will have to fight off hordes of jealous Fraggles that covet your Corny Throne  Horny Gown Thorny Crown.  

But that's OK, they're only 3 feet tall, and they're made of marmalade. Sticky? yes. Unpleasant? yes.  But dangerous?  Only if you let them impregnate you with their sticky orange fraggling sticks.   And you get to save the whole World. Again.  So good luck. We won't evar forget what you are doing for mankind.  Unless, yanno, you fail, and we are all whisked off the the Dungeon dimensions for eternal torment. In which case, we'll still remember you, only a tad less favourably.  

ETA: Hope this helps, btw. 

[Kai]

Holy shit, BadBeast. I don't know what PILLS HERE you're taking, but I want some of them..

[BadBeast]

They're not pills, just organic fungal dietary supplements, that grow in the wet grass in the field behind my block. Supposed to be good for seasonal affective disorder, (Whatever the fuck that is) but I like them because of the way they make all the colours look . . . like proper colours. Colours you can believe in, instead of the tired washed out monochromes that we usually settle for. There's even a few in there we haven't named yet. 

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Wowwwww. 

[navkat]

I've been doin it wrong and eating the lichen. No wonder my shit's fucked up.