Dearest and best beloved Scav Hunt,
As I reentered the real world today, I was asked several times: "What was it like, ya know, judging that Scav Hunt?" I did not know. I stammered and fumbled my words and went on overenthusiastic and somewhat distressing diatribes that went something like: "Yeah, Snitchcock had an ENTIRE LAMB! I could see its TEETH and EYES and oh my GOD, all of these people, they made VOLCANOS out of their ASSES in front of Ida Noyes and it was MAJESTIC! MajASSTIC! HILARIOUS!" Now, my inability to express my feeling on this issue could be chalked up to not having slept more than four hours a night for the past four days, but to do so would be to ignore the real reason why I am incapable of summing up the Hunt. In truth, I'm tongue-tied because this has been one of the most surreal, absurd, fantastic, heartachingly wonderful experiences I think I'll ever have. I still am not quite capable of believing that all of this went down, that anyone could produce even a few of all the shockingly marvelous things to which I was treated this weekend. So at risk of seeming nauseatingly sentimental, I want to thank you, Scav Hunt, for robbing me of my words and reducing me to rambles with your sheer awesomeness. Also for the whole ass-volcano thing -- that was great.
With my most sincere affection and admiration,