Dearest Mr. Chudax, I write to ask if you can dig tunnels, and if so, how much would it cost me to get you to dig a nice abode underneatha building for me.

Send me a letter to the Pissing Crone with a reply, if you please.

-Izzy

Chudax sniffs the letter a few times before using it to clean a rather severe bout of diarrhea, likely brought about by a chunk of suspicious looking cheese.