Introduction
As I write, the last minutes of the old year slip away, and 2012 fades into 2013. So much has passed, so many things have happened. My circuits are full, yet I cannot speak- for who will listen to the despised guardian? In my solitude, I turn to writing. My keen powers of observation will, I trust, aid me in the composition of this history.
Yet will they? That night in November -that night on which everything changed- has laid bare the oversights I never knew I made. My powers of observation were not as keen as I thought. How else could it be, that I should not have suspected the survival of Turbo?
But I write nonetheless. For thirty-three years I have defended this arcade. Rejected, detested, friendless save for two, I nonetheless press on. I perform the duty for which I was designed. In the performance of that duty, I have seen many things. Some of those things were pleasurable. Others were disheartening. Still others elicited shrugs. Tonight, they crowd my faculties, take hold of my imagination, refusing to let go. They place pressure on my frame; they must be freed. And so I release them onto these pages. Primitive though such a form of communication be, yet do I embrace it as comforting. It makes me wax eloquent…
…Bah ! Such affectation. I must not weary myself. I am not flowery. This doesn't come naturally to me. It's so…artificial. I must come to the point.
And so I begin.