Hello, humans. By now I am hoping you are familiar with my investigations into the worrying entity known as The Moth Man. You may be pleased to know that I have interesting updates to share with you.
Since making it known to you – my readers and friends – that I am investigating the whereabouts of this trouble maker who owes Garrionette money, I have had a great deal of information sent to me via the contact page. Sightings have been coming in from far and wide…
It would appear that our dusty winged friend is back in Scotland.
I was emailed information from the west coast involving the vandalism, breaking, entering and wanton desecration of a small family-run electrical lighting shop.
Disturbed by the arrival of police, apparently the Moth Man ran off into the night, screaming, on discovering all the lamps he had stolen were not battery operated and therefore useless to his depraved desires. Obviously, the family are very distressed by the whole thing:
“THERE ARE WING SCALES EVERYWHERE, AND IT LOOKS LIKE HE’S DONE ALL SORTS OF HORRIFIC THINGS WITH OUR LIGHT BULB STOCK. THIS IS THE ONLY TIME I’VE BEEN GLAD WE DON’T HAVE CCTV…”
From my own investigations, and my sources out in the wild, I have discovered that the Moth Man has made his way east, living like some form of insectoid ‘littlest hobo’, leaving a path of wonky small scale destruction in his wake instead of helping out humans, like the actual ‘littlest hobo’ did.*
I received many emails concerning his appearances around the Water of Leith. Myself and Garamond camped out over a few evenings in the hope of catching him. Alas, each time he evaded us. I’m convinced, like his small clothes-moth brethren, he turns to dust as soon as you touch him. Only somehow, unlike his small clothes-moth brethren, he reanimates instead of contaminating your hands and food surfaces with brown scales.
We tailed the Moth Man through Edinburgh at a distance, making sure he couldn’t see us. He made his way to the Old Town area, rifling through bins all the way, before oddly smiling at one and reaching into his wing folds for a box of matches. It became clear his search was for a bin full of paper and combustibles.
The obsession with bins seems to have a purpose at least. As long as he doesn’t try to ‘mount’ a flaming bin in an ill-fated attempt to ‘mate’. The last thing anyone needs is a seven foot moth, on fire, running through the Grassmarket on a Friday night.
Another contact has seen the Moth Man hanging about outside the Christmas Shop on the Royal Mile, mesmerized by fairy lights, drooling.
Hmmm. Yes. Yes. My investigation continues.
Send me your sightings of this sinister travelling wilbury via the contact page.
* EDITOR’S NOTE: