Okay, everyone, if you haven't guessed by now, I've abandoned the Zombie Madeleine storyline.  If you must know how things went down, Madeleine and Jake cooked up an elaborate plan to try and murder me, which, of course, horribly failed, and now they are both being kept in a small cage in my room.  I am right now poking them with a stick.  The End!

To completely shift focus, you all must watch this video we made on You Tube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F4yFfOwLk4s called Inside "Inside "Inside Inside"".  As soon as I figure out how to put it directly on this page, I will.  Oh, and before you watch it, you must first watch Inside "Inside Inside", and you can find that on YouTube at http://youtube.com/watch?v=SrMYs7VNdMA&feature=related.  Our spoof of this promo video James Lipton made is completely eclipsed in funniness by the original.

Thanks, y'all.

"I can't wait to try you out!" Regular Jake gleefully shouted at the toy, once they arrived in his studio apartment.

He laid her on the bed and began taking off his clothes, forgetting to take his shoes off before taking off his jeans which of course led to a loss of balance from his pant getting stuck at his ankles.  When he got up from the ground he found that his Real Doll (tm), also, had removed all of it's clothing.

"Wow, these things are getting more and more advanced every year," said regular Jake.  The Real Doll (tm) winked at him.  "Awesome!" he screamed.  Regular Jake leaped onto his bed and proceeded to play with his new toy.  He played with it three times, and fell asleep, blissful.

The next morning, Jake stirred.  The sun was shining.  Birds were singing.  His violin-playing next door neighbor was practicing a lovely melody of awakening and hopefulness.  But something felt wrong.  "Maybe I just have to pee," thought Jake, aloud for some reason.  Jake meandered over to his bathroom, and opened the door. 

"DO YOU MIND?!!!" 

Jake flipped over backwards at the shock of this unknown voice, knocking over multiple tables with expensive vases on them, several bookshelves, and finally ending in an area littered with noise-making pots and pans...in that classic comedy way.  With a colander on his head, and a wooden spoon in his hand, Jake got up and hid behind his kitchen counter, intently watching the door to his bathroom.  He wasn't sure why he had the colander on his head or the spoon in his hand, but it just felt right.

After an exorbitant amount of time, the toilet flushed.  The whoosh of the sink was heard, along with the farting of his mostly empty hand soap.  Finally the door opened and there she stood, the Real Doll (tm) of his dreams!  The Real Doll (tm) that was really, really real!!

"I've waited all my life for you!" exclaimed Jake as he stood up from behind the counter.

"Uh-huh." said his new-found-love.  "Don't go in the bathroom for a little while."

"You have the voice of an angel!" he purred flamboyantly, then ran across the room to embrace his dream-come-true.  The punch in the face was a bit of a surprise.

When the tweety birds stopped circling his head, Jake found his beloved staring him in the face.  He puckered for a kiss, and leaned in romantically.  This second punch to the face was not as much of a shock.

When he awoke this time, he shielded his general head area and looked around.  His darling was sitting across the room.  Jake stood and faced her.

"So what are you?" Jake asked.  "Are you a person?  Are you a doll?"

"I'm a zombie," she replied.  "Zombie Madeleine's what they call me.  And I need your help."

His name is Zombie Jake.  Zombie Jake was just regular Jake a week ago, before the incident.  Regular Jake was just an ordinary guy, a lover of comics, a lover of movies, a lover of "Real Dolls"(tm), the blow-up doll that is oh-so-real.

Regular Jake lived a few blocks away, however, from Peaceful Sleepy Cemetary.  Last Saturday night, while regular Jake was walking home, he heard a strange sound coming from the cemetary.  Jake knew that exploring a strange sound that was coming from a cemetary could possibly turn out to be a bad idea, so he decided to move on.  But he heard the sound again.  "I could resist it once," regular Jake thought to himself, "but twice, that is a little more difficult.  I mean, really, what are the chances of something bad happening to me here in this darkened cemetary where i hear noises?  No!" he fought, "I must not go!"  And regular Jake kept moving on.  Then he heard the sound again.  Whether he heard it for real or simply heard the echo of it in his brain, we shall never know, but Jake bounded into that cemetary as fast as his legs could take him, even though it's so flippin' clear that that is NOT the choice to make if one would like to keep living a normal and satisfying life.

"Hello?" he said uselessly as he proceeded forward.  There was definitely something in the air, regular Jake thought.  He could feel it.  It was possibly just the humidity which was definitely really high that night, but regular Jake was feeling a little too freaked out to call it that.  "There's something in the air," he said to no one.

He moved forward slowly, then he saw it.  A body was leaned up against a tombstone in the distance.  As he came closer and closer, he became happier and happier... the body was female, the body had honey colored hair, the body had a big bow on it, and an even bigger card the read "Happy Birthday, JAKE".

"A 'Real Doll' (tm)!" Jake the regular exclaimed!  "You guys!!"  And Jake turned around to see if his friends were there to surprise him.  They were not.  They were, in fact, all at the bar that regular Jake just left, entagled in an extremely intense, extremely drunken argument over which one of them should get to make a move on their very hot friend Sally, Sally with the charm bracelet, with whom each of them has been in love since the second grade, and who just broke up with her boyfriend of six years after he cheated on her with her sister...they heard.  As usual, that rumor will turn out to be completely untrue.

"Wow!" regular Jake said, as he picked up his gift up.  "I can't wait to get you home."  And he stepped around what he took to be a freshly dug grave, right under the tombstone which read Sara Montgomery Rocks and is the Shit.

What will happen to good old Jake?  Tune in next week!  (Or whenever I feel like writing this thing again!)

Let's bring it down a notch.

After the untimely death of my friend and, more importantly, Number One Fan, Madeleine Maby, by a series of events that were wholly unconnected from me, I have been thinking a lot about death.  Like how death is sad, and how death is sudden, and how death is so about me. 

I've lost someone close to me, a person who hung on my every word, a person that was content just being near me, a person whose home-shrine to me was Vegas-style impressive.  I feel the need to re-evaluate a few things.

I do not regret sewing myself to Madeleine Maby.  There is no doubt in my mind that the girl worshipped the ground I walked on and I was doing her a huge favor with my surgical brilliance, but the question is, was that the best thing I could have done for me?

Death is a serious thing.  It's really, really permanent.  I will never again hear Madeleine Maby say "Sara, you are a goddess, who's majesty glows with the light of a thousand stars, and if I could spend every waking moment of my life serving you, I would, for you are better than me, and better than all of us.  I love you, but can only love you in the way a dog may love it's master, with the heart of an inferior, a servant, a wrech, I hate myself," as she so often did.  I will never again hear her scream with startlingly zealous delight at my approach.  I will never again be able to hug her...and then ice-knife her (I'll miss that most of all).   But, whenever I visit her grave in the future and read it's words, Sara Montgomery Rocks and Is The Shit, I will remember our time together.

Madeleine thought I was great, and I need other people to think that now.  I must move on.  It isn't right for anyone, especially me, to wallow in misery.  I will pick myself up by my proverbial boot straps, and find others as willing as Madeleine Maby was, more even, to worship and praise me.  Madeleine's death has opened my eyes to the transitory state of life, and  how that short time we have on Earth should be spent giving me massages.  Thank you.

Madeleine and I have reached new levels of joy in our relationship.  I never knew that two people could be so close.  And to think, all I had to do was watch Madeleine for several weeks, make notes about her schedule and habits, send her numerous letters about how i like the way she does things, like that time when she thought she was alone, and she picked her wedgie right there on 81st street (don't worry, I got a picture).  Then all I had to do was wait in my unmarked van near that park where she likes to read, chloraform her real quick, bang her in the head with a wrench after it turned out that what i thought was chloraform was really just Aquafina, drag her into my van, drive her to the abandoned farmhouse I recently purchased upstate, drag her into the even more abandoned, abandoned basement of the abandoned farmhouse, attach her to the special "love" table I made, and then use my new book, "Surgery for Dummies" to remover her left arm, left boob, left lung, left kidney and left stomach, and finally, graft myself to the new open space on Madeleine's side. 

As we lie here on the love table, which is now appropriately red, the color of love, and as I listen to her shallow, one-lunged breathing, i feel so connected...I mean, not just literally connected, which we are, but also emotionally connected...and i feel like we've bonded, and i mean, not just bonded by stitches, which we are, but bonded by feelings...I just...I feel as if we are one person...which we are. 

Oh, Madeleine, I think I have a wedgie.  Let's pick it together.

Well, my rehabilitation is complete, and now I find myself at a loss.  What do I do with myself if i can't attempt to be a superhero or torture Madeleine Maby with constant threatening?  I know.  I'll torture Madeleine Mabe with constant displays of my love for her.  Yes.  That's it.  I'll love her til I can't love her anymore, then I'll hit myself with a shot of adreneline to get a love boost, and then I'll love her some more.  I'll love her till the day I die, or the day she dies...probably the day she dies.  I'll love her like bees love honey...meaning I'm going to swarm around her, and sting anything that gets in the vacinity.  I'll love her til she explodes!  Get ready for the love Madeleine.  (Disclaimer:  Sara may actually be confusing the word love with the word stalk.)

After a wonderful couple months here at the Floral Grove Asylum (help me) I feel so much better (please).  I no longer feel that threatening Madeleine Maby with bodily harm is a fun thing to do (they're watching me).  I have realized that i indeed can't fly (i think they're going to hurt me) and do not fight crime in the night (they use us for experiments).  Oh, how much better my life is now that the Asylum has helped me (they put a chip in my brain) and helped my transition back into the world (i think they programmed me to be an assassin...yes, just like in Zoolander or the Naked Gun), and i just can't thank them enough (my mind feels like the sun!) for their noble (ahhh) caring (kill me) help (heeeeeeelp).

So, my lawyer told me that I should issue a statement regarding the restraining order taken out against me by Madeleine Maby, so here goes...

I, Sara Montgomery, would like to apologize to one Madeleine Maby regarding both alleged and substantiated "threats against her life" that may have caused undue harm to her well-being.  Even though I thought it was perfectly obvious that I was joking about the ice-knife of my last writing, I see now that I should be more sensitive to the feelings of others, and also realize that being stabbed in the face just isn't funny to some people.  Some of the other jokes I made to Madeleine in person that I would like to also apologize for include:

1. That time I told you you'll never have babies because I was planning on ripping out your uterus.

2.  That time I said that you should probably call your brother and sister and leave messages on their cell phones about how much you love them because then i'd let them listen to the messages before I lit them on fire ...cuz they're tied up in my basement.

3.  That time I stood outside your bedroom window naked and covered in honey cutting myself while screaming "I'll kill you!"

4.  That time I said I liked the way Coors Light tastes.  That one just made me feel wrong.

I hope you can accept my apologies, Madeleine, and that one day we can rebuild our friendship.

There, lawyer, are you happy?

You know what?  I did some research, and found out that LSD doesn't have anything to do with the power of flight!  I think somebody was pulling my leg.  I think somebody thought that they could get away with tricking me, and this same somebody thought I wouldn't pay her back!  I think somebody better think very carefully about her decision to close her eyes everynight, because when her eyes are closed, I may just pop out of the shadow I was hiding in in her room, and stab her 85 times in the face with a knife made of ice so that it melts and there's no evidence left or fingerprints.  I think that somebody better start watching her back!

(Oh, by the way, I'm talking about Madeleine Maby, if you didn't know that.)