Joe was, all in all, grateful for the internet. While he hadn't beat all his habits from when he was the Demon of Film Noir - I knew the moment I redeemed that some habits would haunt me for the rest of my life, like the scent of alcohol in an empty bottle to a wino on the streets. You dig to get them out, and what do you get? Nothing but pain. But that's life for you - dark, cold, gritty, and smelling faintly of brandy. - but the internet sure beat legwork.

While it wasn't a wrap yet - But what was? You work your ass off, til you've got nothing left but bone, and what do they call you? A hardass. And it's true. The job leaves you hard and angry, especially in your ass. - he had high hopes for this one. The person in question had left a trail a mile wide, but only on the internet. Stupid man, flirting with 15-year-olds over LiveJournal.

Unfortunately for him, that 15-year-old was a reliever of Flowers, and Novalis wanted him back.

Of all the sick child freaks in all the world, he had to walk onto my internet.

While following the LiveJournal friendslist trail, he idly opened up a google window to search on his own name. Sure, it was egotistical, but a Private Eye's abilities sometimes relied on being well-known. They know you, know who you are, know how you look from fedora to spats, including every hair of stubble on your chin. And they know they can't mess with you.

...Wait, a YahooGroups listing...?

Sure enough, there it was. It was run by a girl called Kelsey, apparently.

Joe's Fanclub. Devoted to loving Joe, his Incredible Hat, and his Inner Monologue.

Inner monologue...? The dame was clearly delusional.