A strange page

During my illustrious trip to Cairo, in which we roamed the timeless sands in a small tiny that could barely fit two camels, I came upon a collection of strange pages.

They were given to me by a good friend of mine from the Stanfordox Agency of Strangeness and Things That Make You Go Buuhhh. He said they were from the back room, and because he really didn't feel like filing them, he slipped them to me just before his department was called out to investigate recent allegations of corpus reanimatus. Which would be later reveled as fictitious after the questioning of two men who bore resemblance to that of Elvis and JFK.

Here is but one of the odd notes written by he who only calls himself "brother"