Darazoon Barantor IV, who in other circumstances would like to let you in on who he is, has regretfully declined comment, on the basis that it would ruin his mysterious nature and quite possibly compromise his security. He goes on to say that his secret guild of intergalactic thieves, known fittingly as the Black Holes, since whatever surrounds them seems to disappear, is not, in fact, his band nor should they be held accountable for any of the stolen goods sold to Nursa Minor's outlying settlements, which led to three blood feuds, the usurping of a dozen local governments, and the inflation of Microwave Oven prices. He wishes, also, that people stop blaming him for the Earth II incident, in which a large portion of pancakes was stolen as a diversion to the real theft, which was that of the planet itself. He declines to comment any further on the matter, but does admit the person responsible for the theft must be equally cunning and handsome as he, and with a taste for theatrics, which he says any man of this caliber would have to have in order to steel an entire planet using a tire iron and the chassis of a 1975 Plymouth Satellite (an ironic name that the manufacturers would have changed had they known the fate of this particular vehicle; as a result, all owners of 1975 Plymouth Satellites have been subsequently hunted down, detained, asked to ingest a green substance which made their heads feel very floaty, and killed - in a humane and cleanly fashion). He would also like to quell any rumors that he might be staying on Europa and goes on to say that if he had been staying there, he'd be sure to build a nice bungola beside one particularly beautiful ice ocean in the Northern Hemisphere, but would make sure it was close enough to the Albus Plains so he could enjoy the sunsets from the rear window of his abode. He can not be reached by intersteller phone, as he does not own one, but left his number in case any Wooblickian females would like to give him a call and come over for dinner.
Julian Mormount