I wear a mask. And that mask is not to hide who I am, but to create what I am." - Batman

For a time, I served as Curator of the Petrified Scone Museum, but my employment came to a close when my uncontrollable tea binging wettened the entire collection. I then found other gainful work for a short period as first a Receptionist to a renowned Soap Historian, a Hedgehog Training Assistant, a Bicycle Therapy Specialist (You’d be surprised how many poor bicycles are abused, abandoned and kidnapped. Such a sad job), assistant to an Illusionist: "Fenestro! The Slightly Magnificent" and Executive Jam Taster at K.C. Stickelberrie’s Agglutinative Marmalades. The latter job lasted only a week, as I had succeeded (or rather the JAM had succeeded) in adhering so many spoons to myself that I could no longer properly grasp objects or move about without clanging.

Dismayed by the work world, I went on another tea binge. It was a dark time for me. Perhaps I should have not drawn the blinds quite so tightly, but thirteen cups of tea a day can do things to a person. Such as causing rather violent twitching. All the same, I grew during that bleak period, and I have no regrets. Alright, perhaps I should have had a bit more cake, but no other regrets.

I decided that perhaps the work-a-day life was not suitable for me, and decided to travel about the world. Luckily, I had some funds stowed away and was able to procure myself a ticket on the prestigious ship, the HMS Happenstance. Although I had to share a cabin with a three displaced acrobats with vertigo and a baleful Edgar Allen Poe imposter named Fred, the journey was pleasurable.

I spent many years abroad, studying, writing, traveling to various countries. Along the way, I found myself in the company of a peculiar fellow called Brindle, a two eyed Cyclops (a rare genetic defect). He too was out seeking his path in the world, and spoke to me of a strange place that so intrigued me that I grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to a local map shop. While he did not appreciate my enthusiastic ear pulling, he did indeed try to show me this odd country on an old atlas. Difficulty arose when the map was so disagreeable as to change whenever we tried to locate anything on it. But, such challenges arise when one is looking for an undiscovered country.

Fixated on the idea of finding this wonderful sounding place, I asked everyone I knew about the Undiscovered Country, all while still dragging poor Brindle by the ear. ( I later appeased him with an entire box of chocolate wafers and a pair of dog head earmuffs as an apology.) Few people could tell me how to find passage there, except for an odd stranger by the name of Robin Goodfellow. What a peculiar man, if that he was. I was never sure how to feel about that blue wig of his. And something was terribly wrong with his trousers. I’m still not sure if they were actually meowing or if he had slipped something into my tea.

Robin promised to connect me with a gentleman called Captain Marlock but only after I had procured for him some ridiculous thing called a Gjallarhorn, which was terribly obstreperous, but at least drowned out the incessant mewling of his wretched pants. I don’t know why Robin found this silly object so hard to find. It had been hanging in the music shop window for months, wedged between the elongated lute and the truncated zither. He was ecstatically happy, and not only connected me with Captain Marlock but also gave me a basket of apples for the journey. They were delicious once they stopped screaming.

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Captain Marlock was a most gracious gentleman, and provided us with very comfortable passage aboard his ship “Ophelia”. I was rather expecting the ship to be docked in a port however, and this vessel was lashed tightly to a sad looking street lamp outside the library. When we weighed anchor, I was surprised to find that Ophelia was wearing eight large, pink galoshes, and was adamant about avoiding puddles and water of any sort. Nonetheless our trip was expedient and fair sailing with no storms, with only a stray piece of gum to cause Ophelia to slow briefly.

Captain Marlock bid us a grand farewell once he landed Brindle and I at Tirahvaalta, the Undiscovered Country. Though, I am unsure how the place was undiscovered, as they were several signs at the entrance done up in a very loud shade of green that could be heard for miles.

I was so taken with Tirahvaalta; The colorful landscapes, the equally vibrant denizens, and the especially technicolor zebras. I kept many journals and made more than a few drawings and plenty of delightful acquaintances during my time there. Brindle decided he was going to stay, and found himself a nice flat with a garden and an opportunity to study the weird gravitational fields in the floating city of Under. I too desired to stay, but I also thought it valuable to share information about this relatively unknown place with fellow travelers, and so I took with me some trinkets along with my journals back to the “mainland”, or “outer world”.

I made many trips back and forth from Tirahvaalta, each time bringing over something new, often chromatic, and typically bizarre. It was then that I finally found my calling as an importer of Tirahvaaltan goods as well as travel information, and I set up shop in my old hometown. The Duke of Least Responsibility had heard of my back and forth adventures, and after snoozing beneath a tree for a good three hours, brought me before her Majesty the Valtana, who was tickled that I had taken so to the country. She awarded me a kind of ambassadorship and provided me with secure travel to and from Tirahvaalta.

So, this is how I came to be Vicereine Permelia Apollonia Siverling De Bruchhausen, Chief Exporter of Oddities and Commodities of Tirahvaalta. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.