Let us see.

Volgi is hiding up in his quarters with that goofy Yeti of his, watching another Sonny Chiba movie on Beta. Yeah, he sits there with his iPad now, Twittering all day. Averages about 800 tweets a day, of which about 780 are all retweets. He’s become like that guy who keeps forwarding the same email, never realizing that sometimes he sends you the same one twice, about a week apart. Anyway, he won’t even answer the door when we knock, although we can hear stuff moving around in there.

‘Puter is on vacation, and he took that freaky Sleestak with him to carry his luggage (which is dumb because he totally scares the kids). The Castle is all quiet and empty when he’s out. But on the plus side, nobody has to be scared walking into a bathroom. We should send some of the Tcho-Tchos up to clean his cubicle, except there is only so much tidying that can be done to a crooked three-legged stool, a plastic milk crate, and a dog bed.

No one has the foggiest idea of when GorT will be back. He’s off taking care of that thing that happened in Remonstra, Armenia, in 1412. Evidently it required a whole lot more clean-up, because he has been gone a week and history still doesn’t record what happened there.

Dr. J is out on vacation. He’s been touring New England, messing with each state’s definition of open carry of firearms. The Czar won’t come out and say he misses the good doctor, but he will point out that the pigeons have returned in greater numbers to the roof. And normally, it’s the Doc’s morning exercise to spook them off with a bit of force lightning.

Mandarin is…where, actually, where the hell has be been? When’s the last time he posted anything? August Second? Cripes, even Volgi has showed up to work more recently, and Mandarin doesn’t even have an iPad. He’s locked himself down in the lab, and has been watching that Wimpy Kid sequel on demand over and over. Something ain’t right. Although he discovered that if you watch the credits all the way through to the end, Fregley gets a visit from Nick Fury, recruiting him for the Avengers.

So that leaves Dat Ho, off in the Castle, hiding from the Czar. He’s probably sleeping behind the boiler, because he knows we won’t go down there in the dark. Not with all the centipedes. You know the Czar hates centipedes, right? The Czar is just bored enough to be nice to him, tonight, and even offer to play cards or dominoes with Dat Ho just so he could accuse him of cheating and throw him into the cellar.

Jeez, it is quiet here. Earlier, the Czar called some of the other Gormogons who don’t live here. The Grand Moghul is off in New York, in his Park Avenue pad. No surprise, but he ain’t answering his cell phone on a Friday night. And we gave Prince Tochmas a call, too, but he said he had (quote) a “laundry emergency,” whatever the faheck that is and couldn’t talk. Boy, we sure hope we don’t ever get one of those.

The Czar even went down to Emily Grace’s office, in the PR department, but forgot that she quits around 4:30 on Fridays. It is weird there, with the lights all off. Even her wind-up leaping frog toy was sitting next to her computer, silent. DT and the Myrmidons are off on assignment in Florida, and even our royal falconer took the birds snowmobiling.

We sadly went down to the lobby to visit the Redbox kiosk, but discovered the Tcho-Tchos broke into it and chewed up all the discs. Even the Rob Schneider ones. Can you imagine putting anything of his in your mouth? Eeww.

Sure has been a quiet couple of days here. Still wish we had those Mystery Theater tickets, although we were a little disappointed by the telegraphed ending of The Butler Did It. The Czar is into a little mischief. Just to be a jerk, he might even post a picture on the left side of the essay, rather than the usual right. Take that, Internet.

Sigh. Probably will wind up watching Little League baseball playoffs on ESPN. The Czar likes the intensity of unjaded kids playing ball, and always likes to see 13-year-old smart alec kids cry like sobbing preschoolers when they lose.

The Czar of Muscovy

Божію Поспѣшествующею Милостію Мы, Дима Грозный Императоръ и Самодержецъ Всероссiйскiй, цѣсарь Московскiй. The Czar was born in the steppes of Russia in 1267, and was cheated out of total control of all Russia upon the death of Boris Mikhailovich, who replaced Alexander Yaroslav Nevsky in 1263. However, in 1283, our Czar was passed over due to a clerical error and the rule of all Russia went to his second cousin Daniil (Даниил Александрович), whom Czar still resents. As a half-hearted apology, the Czar was awarded control over Muscovy, inconveniently located 5,000 miles away just outside Chicago. He now spends his time seething about this and writing about other stuff that bothers him.