I'm of the opinion that the mosquitoes that caused the malaria were conjured by the fog—it seems its warped our reality in ways that we cannot yet understand. Though I long for a friendly face, I hardly wish for you to be here now; the last thing I wish if for you to contract my illness. You're a great asset to society, whereas I'm not.

I will try not to die. If it gives you any comfort, I have not perished over the last month when my situation was far more dire and I was far more desperate. (Even more recently, when I was working with dragons. Dragons, Mr. Gladstone! Could you hardly imagine me in such a position?)

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— MJ is MAGICAL —