Abby’s guitar, which she bought from a fallen preacher the last time she went on a visionquest to the Caicos islands, has been acting up a bit. Last night she woke up and found it eating chips and dip and watching Degrassi on the Noggin channel. When she mentioned that we have practice the next day, and that it should probably get a few hours of sleep in, it began weeping and clinking the little bits of string between the tuning pegs and the neck to make a sort of ghostly tinkling sound. It seems a little better today, but for the past hour or so has been locked in a stall in the bathroom. The only thing we’ve heard it say was ‘maybe Dylan was a judas’, and then a little sniffle.