Small sparks fly off her skull pate. Fiery, watch them, they're contagious.

Plugged into the datasea, or something like that, there are rumours the Lynch Walker is a Fiction Bot, mercilessly trawling the waves and fictionalising them. I was caught in a wave, I know it's fact, the Lynch Bot saved me, and now Im a real boy.

Sometimes Sarah sneaks into your closet at night, don't ask how, because only she knows.

She comes to pluck the little nasty bits of information from your brain, after all, she can use them a million times better than you can.

Oh, and don't bother locking up, she can shatter locks at 10 paces with her steely gaze.

Don't fight it, just give in.

The Gawdzeera Tribe, you must not anger her or she'll come to your town and step on some buildings.

The DeBeers of the datamines, she is forever over you, watching, waiting... Strike a vein and earn your salt. Miss the riches and be the next canary. Never squander her generous gifts, and always appreciate her beneficence. She walks the lynch for you every day, so try and act as if you deserved it, ungrateful scum.

Sarah doesn't smell bad. Really -- not at all!