We don’t apologize for tardiness any longer. We are leaner and meaner here at the Institute of Ye Oldie Timey Nancy Drew Research. We are going to say it like it is. From now on. And like it is is this. This is #31 in the series. It was a slog to read. Our eyes were sweating blood as we nauseatingly tried to keep track of the numerous gruesome attempts on Nancy’s life which included, for the first time, a strangling. We gathered up the drops of blood that had accumulated on our research desks and drank them in an attempt to get some iron into our flagging selves. We are now looking at our masters and overlords, nay!, our ringmasters and wondering why they hired us in the first place. Was it our obeisance that attracted them? Did they know we’d become grunting research freaks at a little over only halfway through the process? Are we the ones secretly being researched? “Let’s throw some juvenile pap literature at their refined and recently graduated selves and see what happens.” Well, we can tell you what happens. Hate is what happens. Self. Nancy. Ringmasters.