This here journal is Raven’s idea but I got me a feeling he won’t be so proud of it if he ever gets to reading it because most of the time I’m going to tell the truth. Even if he is my best buddy.
Talk about your feet of clay. He’s got them run all the way up to his noogies,
and then some. But he’s a right guy even if he is a homicidal, suicidal maniac
half the time. Raven decides he’s your friend you got a friend for life, with a knife in all three hands.
My name is Case. Philodendron Case. Thanks to my Ma. I’ve never even told Raven about that. That’s why I joined the army. To get away from the kind of potato
diggers that would stick a name like that on a kid. I had seven sisters and four brothers last time I got a head count. Every one is named after some damned
A girl named Iris or Rose, what the hell, hey? But I got a brother named Violet and another brother named Petunia. What kind of people do that do their kids?
Where the hell are the Butches and Spikes?
People that spend their whole lives grubbing in the dirt, sunup to sundown, to
root out potatoes, cabbages, onions, parsnips, rootabagas. Turnips. I still hate turnips. I wouldn’t wish them on a hog. I joined the army as soon as I could
