Look at me, I'm made of wonderful, wonderful

[This entry is forward-dated slightly to midday tomorrow. The writing is still recognizable as Castle's, but the hand trembles a little.]

Promise ----> Alexis
Nikki ----> Detective Kate Beckett


I'm a mystery writer. Nikki- Kate- wasn't isn't my wife, but she's a homicide detective, and we're partners. I shadow her and help her solve cases because she's the inspiration for my new series of books. I live in a loft apartment with my daugher, Alexis, and my mom, Martha. I'm famous, too. REALLY famous.

Alexis is waiting for me. I [There's a long pause here, and the writing becomes steadier, but slower as he carefully considers each word and phrase.]

I've made a lot of friends here. All of you have helped me through some tough times and been the best friends... and everything else... a guy could ask for. "Thank you" doesn't seem like enough at this point, not nearly. I'm never going to forget any of you.

But my daughter is back home. She needs me. And I'll keep having adventures. Not without saying goodbye in person, not without making arrangements first, but... I'm going home.

Oh, so many choices, so little time.

Dare I place my bid on the lovely Nikki? Or perhaps expand my horizons and choose someone else to work my charms on?

Decisions, decisions.

So I heard it's Genius' birthday soon.

And it'll be my birthday, too! How about that?

Mr. Grift, would you mind terribly if a bunch of partygoers descended on your place sometime around 7 on Sunday? I'll bring the cake and they'll bring the cheer.

[[OOC: There's a smear of what looks suspiciously like maple syrup at the top of the page. Hmm. Also, Derrick is not affected by Mad Libs.]]

Here's a bit of free and sage advice, Sphere.

If someone offers to give you an Awful Waffle, DON'T TAKE IT.

It's not a food.

Let us leave it at that and never speak of it again.

Well, Genius and I are both old ladies now, so at least we're in good company.

He hasn't stopped screaming for, like, 10 minutes.

[Derrick is his mother, Martha Rodgers.]

Genius. My best buddy, my beloved man-twin, my brother, we need to have a little chat. Just you and me. I'll buy you all the starches you can eat. It's nothing serious, we just need to discuss our [pen taps] home situation.

Being in the happiest place on earth is so exhausting. Run around all day, watch the cocoons all night. Or in some cases, run around all morning, watch the cocoons all afternoon, go out at night and get totally smashed.

I could get used to this.

I TASTE LIKE SPAM TODAY.

WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH THIS PLACE?