Dear Dok. Howl

[Demolition Squid]

Please forgive the haste of this note, only it is becoming quite difficult to keep the paper dry, I am sure you understand.

It finally happened you see. In the end, it was surprisingly gentle - in the way these things so often are. There was no great explosion, there was no time to panic - in one instant we were wandering around, going about the Business of the Day, and then, after a quiet bloop, we were underwater.

I think it actually took some people a few hours to notice that they had drowned. The clever ones worked quickly to evolve gills (the really clever ones already had them, naturally). Oh, there was some fuss at first of course - some people just aren't very good at adapting, you know? But once the water gets in, one way or another, it all calms down.

Now, the sun is a very long way away, and it doesn't seem worth the hassle to try and get back up to the surface - and anyway, if we did, then we'd just have to remember how lungs work, and that's a recipe for screaming if I ever heard one.

No, better that we stay down here. It is quiet without all that air getting in the way. It was cold at first, but the funny thing is, the longer it goes on, the warmer it feels. The sharks down here at least have the decency to look like sharks, and if you stumble across the odd unexploded mine... well, you know me. I've always enjoyed that kind of thing.

Now, if I could only talk the silly bastards out of trying to make tea with seawater, we'd all be fine. Well, I guess there's no such thing as paradise.

Yours,

Mr. D. Squid.

P.S - I don't want to be 'that guy' but I have enclosed a snap of the neighbourhood. I think you'll agree it is a great improvement!



(If undelivered, please return to Mr. D. Squid, 14 Big Ben Reef, New Atlantis, UO8 B12)

[Doktor Howl]

My Dear Demosquid,

I am glad to see you bearing up, old chap!  There were some hectic days here, but no grumbling, hey?  We are told that resumption of Normal Service is right around the corner.  Some nice government fellow, who said he was from the Innsmouth office.  Funny looking man, very wide mouth, eyes sort of too far apart, but mother always told me not to mark the afflicted.

In any case, he asked if we would send our young women around to the office, just a paperwork bother of some sort.  They do seem to be taking their time at it, though...You'd think that a month would be plenty of time to sort out some forms.  I do suppose, though, that it is another sign of the general upset.

Up here, we still get some sunlight, though it's an off-shade of puce, given the generally polluted nature of the water.  I must say, on the other hand, that the extra moon has really got the older set talking.  I say, one more is better than one less, right?

Anyway, must close.  That old Whatley chap says he'd like a word.

Chin up old man,
Doktor Howl

[LMNO]

It's like Postcards from the Damned.

[Demolition Squid]

Dear Doktor,

I was heartened to receive your missive. It is good to know that the gears of government continue to turn over there - I'm afraid ours were a hidebound lot, and quite unwilling to concede that the waters were anything more than a 'passing fad'. "Britain has endured worse storms than this!" Was the rallying cry, as I recall, and then "Glub glub glub." Which caught on rather better, by and large.

This Innsmouth chap sounds like he's got the right idea. Women and children first, and all that. He sounds rather like some of our royals in appearance; protruding eyes are a sign of good breeding, you know? I've heard that Mr. Buscemi comes from a very distinguished line. Old, old money. The kind stored in little stone discs with curious symbols. Very good stock.

I've heard that the Scottish are making another bid for independence, and I can't say I blame them. According to them, their natural haggis reserves should buoy them back up to the surface, if they can just make the break between Scotland and England a touch more... literal. It was all very well and good whilst it was quiet, but now there's this damnable singing. A kind of keening noise, most unsettling, and enough to keep a man awake at night. Well, or day. It is difficult to tell.

Happy to hear you are more astrological blessed than us, as well. Two moons definitely sounds auspicious, and I can confirm the lack of one makes for a dreary sky. Perhaps I shall have to visit and see if I can bring one back for the rest of us in old Blighty, eh?

Strong currents,
D. Squid.