Happy Birthday to King Tobias Blackbriar!!!

Yes, today is the glorious day of my birth.

Already, I have received well-wishes and congratulations from world leaders, as well as hobos from all over the country. Their felicitations come by way of pigeon, rodent, or even messages in bottles, floating along the little brook running near the train yard. Many hobos have taken to the rails, shuffling day and night to pay me their respects in person. Since the morning, I've received bums and tramps at my throne, kneeling to offer me homage on this most celebratory of days.

As I write this, my subjects are ornamenting my court in lavish decorations, and Pierre Tin-Hat is preparing a feast the likes of which no one has ever seen. I've heard he's spent all week foraging through every dumpster in Great Falls to accumulate a vast assortment of rummaged delicacies that'll tickle the pallet of any hobo. Music will be provided by the Hobo Orchestra, conducted by Fourteen-Toe Tom. The songs that these men can make with a harmonica, screeching cat, and trash bin are elaborate sonic motiffs of unearthly beauty that I'd dare say would bring a tear to the eyes of even the Gentry.

Tonight, these hobos will party like it's the Great Depression. The cider and alcohol will flow like water, and drunken merriment will be had by all. It is good that my subjects dote on their king.

Let the royal festivities begin!!!