My dear friends and well-wishers. I write to you from the archives of the Noble Gas club, where Paige looks at me askance from her chair. I have been advised by a shady looking gentleman wearing a porkpie hat and a forked beard that some sort of financial scheme was wise, and therefore I set forth on this endeavor. Pilcrow recommends against it, and Duddles insists on asking me "why is money," repeatedly. The proceeds from these tips will go towards ensuring time and leisure to write; it will not be the sort of page that is updated frequently if at all; it will not be the sort of page that will answer queries about the heights or pajama styles of the Noble Gases; it will not be the sort of page with freewheeling, unrestricted access to all manner of hot commodities. It will be spare and solemn, dedicated solely to authorial support.