McBurger and I are both terribly sick now. Must have been something we ate. Something fried in fish oil or maybe those damned banana pancakes at Angkor Wat. We may have to just flat out avoid eating anything local. MacDonald’s and beef jerky from here on out. We’re miserable and laid up in the room in and out of sleep. Joints are sore, limbs are weary. No energy, absolutely exhausted again, it just sucks. I just got out of the hospital a couple days ago too. While the hives have subsided I can still fell their warmth and slight itchiness in various places all over. McBurger and I are both rushing off to the bathroom multiple times and hour, tag teaming the place with nastiness.
It’s too bad too, because Siem Reap seems like an awesome place to blow it up, which was our plan for tonight. Pub Street is teaming with promising prospects and the cheapest drinks possibly world wide. The hostel even has a pub crawl tonight. And it’s Saturday.
Instead we’re crashed out over the course of the next 10 hours lazily slipping in and out of consciousness and in and out of the stall. It’s depressing really, to be back in this state so soon.
Tha Queebs and Agent Getz come in and out of the room between their own adventures into town.
The following is an excerpt from a missive of a mission journal page written in a memoir on a document bound in the diary of Agent Getz. It was flown by golden Garuda to Dr Birdrito for examination back at The Agency and then swiftly returned to McBurger and I, naked on our death beds in Siem Reap, by a shimmering blue Naga that neither of us can confirm was indeed real and not a figment of our paired ailing minds…
“Tha Queebs and I went out and got food
Got more food, saw a traditional dance at Temple Bar
Bought some elephant pants for FOW
Queenie was pulled up to dance in a lady boy show
The guys were sick”
– Agent Getz
Amazing stuff! Excellent detective work as usual from Agent Getz.