"Eeeeeaaahhyeah, about that, Biff...
...mm yes, you can call me matt, you can call me mth...as long as your boat is floating.
Because all that matters, all that I really need to be called is one simple thing:
Because the Jackalope's no longer Galactic and I left the boogeymanning to chumps like the Jacket Jackoffs.
I'm out of the closet, heh.
See, no, Foxo, you're a bit off the mark. You just got in, fresh off your landing here, I see, and you haven't quite gotten the full skinny.
This mth. This matt even. This me. This whatever I am.
Not what you knew. Not what you think.
Something else entirely.
So no, my good man, I'm not a meme and I'm no monster.
I am but one thing and one thing alone:
The rest just fades...just melts...just blends.
So mmm, don't count your chickens 'cuz brother, they're far from hatchin'.
You've danced with fragments and tangled with parts but not the whole.
Dick Whelan may have killed matt but resurrection...well, resurrection can do some fascinating mind-bending things.
We're all here and we're all very much alive and lovin' it.
All systems go.
Out of the shadows and into the spotlight.
And the spotlight...oh the spotlight, she shines so bright.
So come on in and see if you burn.
I'll bring the crazy.
They say...they seem to think...I always do but ah, there's that fine line between genius and madness.
So, seeing as I'll be partnering with Madness, that leaves the obvious alternative for your Painted Prince. Heh.
And oh hey look at that, my main Mad man is a champ to boot. Groovy.
...you bring Glitterbritches.
See what that does for you.
And while we're out there, Bibbity Fibbity, I will do my damnedest to get us reacquainted.
Give you a solid formal introduction to just who and/or what I am at this point.
Make sure all those thoughts of some kooky night-dwelling spook-monkey are a thing of the past...
...and that the real fear...the real respect...comes from somewhere true, somewhere deep...somewhere in the spotlight."