((The diary is a standard sized Moleskine with no distinct features. Entries are written with a delicate script in consistently fine graphite, interspersed with sketches of buildings, interiors, and various DE residents.))

Tuesday, July 16th, 2013
Currently listening to: Beau Soir, Debussy

Yesterday there was a bomb scare at the Inn. Jubi was there. I'm not sure if she was the one who found it. Needless to say, I was pissed. My mind instantly recalled last Friday, when two maniacs stabbed Jubi in the street. The more I learned about the bomb scare as it unfolded, the more the two events seemed linked.

In both, the criminals had a sick sense of humor. At the stabbing, the assailants screamed about spaghetti and made pop culture references. At the Inn, what was assumed to be a bomb was a stuffed skunk with a large red phallus.

Both events were highly theatrical. In both events, the assailants waited until they had an audience of the public and the police until the real action started.

And of course, there was the color pink. At the stabbing, the one who seemed to be the leader was wearing an elaborate pink costume. The skunk sprayed pink glitter all over my office.

Although one crime was very direct and in person, and the other was remote and impersonal, I believe the criminals are one and the same. The problem is that I watched the people who stabbed Jubi get arrested. How the hell did they get out?

After some research, I found out that one of the attackers is dating the DA, and the other escaped due to 'clerical error'. I guess that explains a lot.

I'm not sure if they have something against the Inn or Jubi. I'm sick of this. When the skunk sprayed everyone with pink glitter they laughed it off and played with the pink stuff. Even Jubi seemed to laugh it off. I found their light-heartedness disturbing. Sickening. Maybe I'm just getting cynical as I approach 30.

I was asked if I have considered joining the DEPD, but after finding out they can't keep an eye on dangerous criminals like these, I realized that a different kind of justice needs to be served. I'm a bit out of shape to be running around like some kind of vigilante, but I will keep investigating.