July 4, 2009
Think of it, Baxter! If my calculations are correct, I shall soon be an entirely virtuous man! This wondrous device will purge me of my inner demons, and I’ll walk the earth an equal to Christ himself. To contain the beast, I have prepared a small mason jar.

July 4, 2009
God have mercy, Baxter, I’ve been a fool. My darker nature, once separated, was more powerful than I could have ever imagined. Ignoring the front door, he burst through the living room wall, sprinted until he came to a pair of female joggers, kicked their doberman in twain, then hurled the upper half of its torso into the Statue of Liberty. All this while reciting nuclear physics in Latin. With these damnable fetal knobs I’m now forced to acknowledge as “arms”, it was all I could do to pull myself into the crawlspace and pray I’d not be eaten. Is this really all that’s left? Could my evil really have been so much stronger, smarter than my virtue?

(The journal ends, the following pages are blank)

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