Ahem, ahem.

[This is Xerxes Break. This is Xerxes Break with a clipboard and three pencils in a single hand.]

I believe I mentioned a census at some point in the distant and dusty past, and I am willing to revoke my scorn and begin anew.

[Mostly to get his mind off certain things, but. Never you mind that.]

So line up.

Name.

Age.

Day of birth.

Occupation.

Line up.

That's what happens when you invite sand to a party, I imagine. It never did make a good house guest, you can't expect it to behave just because the party is outdoors.

Tsk, tsk.

[What, even a blind man can't miss a blaze that size.]

I suppose that brings us to the more important question of who invited Master Sand to the party in the first place.

He's been lurking an awful long time now, at this point, and I'm getting a feeling he won't be vanishing as our curses do.

It's been quite overdue, curse-wise, we all agree that much without saying. Let's not consider it a curse.

[He holds up a plate covered in sand.]

And let's hop to it, hmm? Things have just gotten serious.

Judging from some of the reactions I've seen about, it seems like this isn't the first time this sort of peculiar immigration has occurred... my, my, how peculiar, indeed.

I'll be liking a comment on the frequency of the aforementioned and current event. Nearly as much as I imagine clerkly types are in want of a census.

A census, imagine.

[This man doesn't appear to be imagining too hard, he's busy waving about a half-eaten cookie, a gaudy pair of opera glasses, and talking to a puppet on his shoulder. What?]

It looks like a recipe for disaster to me! A powderkeg!

I do agree, Emily. Quite right. Just imagine trying to go door to door when I doubt many of these newcomers will even own a door!

[Nevermind the "puppet" was talking about the event itself. No matter!]

Why, it's pure nonsense. Wouldn't you say?

[ooc; fourth wall awaaaaayyyy!]