Andrew, I’ve stumbled upon a terrific subject. All tabloids will just shrivel up with envy, can already picture our headlines. I’ve been hanging around Millwer-Oaks for some time. That’s a quiet town just west of N. A backwoods place, nowhere to go out at night, but then there are a dozen chic boutiques here! Wonder whether there’s anyone to buy from them. Nobody seems to have that kind of money around here. To cut it short, I’d been watching the store doors and saw several times some girls coming and going by cars with lifeguards. Average age—14 or 16.

They stay in for an hour and leave with a heap of bags and drive off and out of town, heading to the woods. I’ve been there, too. You can’t get too close, plenty of roadblocks, and it’s fenced in. Behind the fence, there’s a motorway going as far as the eye can see. I don’t wanna tell you how much time I spent shooting the breeze with locals, but I’ve found it out. Andrew, it’s a closed school.

To say that its whereabouts are not publicly known is to say nothing. I know why. I’ve made some enquiries. And you won’t believe who’s studying there. At least 15 big guns (Big Tom, Jap and Lady Shark among them) placed their daughters here. I stayed in the town for a couple of days, hanging about the gate. There’s no way to get inside. The school is guarded like a prison camp. I saw the girls walk out the gate and go somewhere. I wish you could see them! Some of them have “just out of a loony bin” written all over them. I didn’t see anyone come and visit them. My gut tells me there’s more than that, and darn it, we’re gonna make a sensation!

I’m staying here for another week or so. This school is a killer. We’ll make a fortune on these spicy bits. I need a couple of photographers, and take my word, it’s gonna be a wow.

Alright, make it quick, we gotta be the first. We are short of stuff to publish in two weeks. The central feature is “Boy Eats the Ashes of His Cremated Granny” — a real bummer. I’m sending Tom and Huffer your way.