The manuscript you’re about to read is insane. Seriously. It was written by a madman or as far as I can tell, someone with legit mental issues. These are not my opinions, but if I am honest, it’s pretty compelling. That said, I am NOT the architect. I’m just a guy in the middle of Montana who found the pages. Well, actually, they were sent to me.

But before we get to that, if I release this insane story, I must first distance myself. I am a comedian. I’m not super famous but I’ve rubbed shoulders with enough A-list actors and have written enough scripts to know the kinds of stories greenlight by Hollywood. And if I’ve learned anything from my time in Babylon, it’s this: This manuscript will never be optioned. It’s too real, too raw, and reveals too much about the system we have been programmed to stimulate. But enough about me…

On the morning of December 14, I went downtown to check on my P.O. box, just as I do every Friday. There was a letter from my 8-year-old niece, some marketing brochures that looked like postcards and a residual check from a show I helped write back before the towers fell. There was also a white unmarked envelope with a single 3X5 index card inside with the numbers 947 written in black sharpie.

My friend, Dave, who works at the Post Office took one look at the card, then went into the backroom. He returned immediately with a black briefcase, then assured me that it had passed the screening system with flying colors. 

I took it home, set the combination lock to 947 and popped it open. 

Inside was a two-inch thick manuscript bound by yarn, wrapped in black tissue paper. In the top flap of the briefcase was a note addressed to me.

“Read this first”

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Two nights ago, my father was found face-down at his desk. The police said he died peacefully, but there’s no way of knowing. On his laptop, I saw an open document entitled: P.O. Box 245, Whitefish, MT. 59937.

I don’t know who you are, but for some reason, my father trusts you.

Sincerely,

Ashley Darling

P.S. This manuscript was saved at 7:31 pm. My father’s final breath was at 7:36pm.

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If you wish to continue, just know this rabbit hole is a deep one.

You’ve been warned…