My dear friends and Gator enthusiasts, 

It has been many moons since we last spoke and though we have remained a mere paper apart from each other, the world continues to spin around the centre of the universe—my fat orange little guy. 

Over the holidays, I made the treacherous journey (25-minute car ride) home to my mother’s house where my dearly beloved and I were reunited in what historians are calling “the most significant global event of the twenty-first century.”

This, I dare say, is an understatement. While stealing food and abusing the free utilities at my childhood home, Gator and I did not depart each other’s presence once. When I ate, he ate. When I re-watched Peaky Blinders, he was also staring at Cillian Murphy chain-smoking and covered in blood. When I showered, he stood outside and screamed bloody murder while awaiting my return.

It is safe to say that all positive events over the course of the holiday break are directly linked to the connection between a girl and her orange cat and undoubtedly reconfigured the astrological alignment of the universe. This is, in other words, an unhealthy codependent relationship I have no intention of getting out of. 

Sometimes, dear readers, I must admit that I sit at this blank word document and wonder how this ridiculous column has obtained the level of popularity it has accumulated in its short life. This freedom and complete control over the creative direction that I, and only I, can steer is reminiscent of developing critical consciousness while staring at the dim orange glow of Wattpad on my ancient Android phone with unrestricted internet access. 

To come of age at a time when complete strangers joined together in celebration of completely unhinged fanfiction concerning various men was a formative experience and this memory bring with it a resulting joy I have not felt since I wrote my own [REDACTED] fanfiction which is looming somewhere in the ruins of Wattpad. 

It is important to note that this comparison between Gator Goes Global and my youthful exploits hinges upon the knowledge of the cultural significance of Wattpad in distinction to Archive of Our Own (AO3) — a collective effort in which I never partook. 

I was, to put it bluntly, cringe without merit as my brain was developing. I remained stimulated enough with “My Mom sold me to One Direction!” and Tyler Joseph (you know exactly which story I am referring to) fics that I never yearned for something greater and arguably more unhinged.

Much like this column—cringe but free (this statement in and of itself is cringe, and yet it is going in print regardless. Strong Editorial Powers! Creative control, baby!). If you want a more structured and meaningful column, I am afraid this is the wrong place to look. 

Now that I have successfully lost the plot of my original point as I write this the day of pagination and layout and as Sebastian paces about the office with increased agitation awaiting this final piece of this issue, it is time to switch gears and talk about you.

Yes, you!

You who find yourself subjected to this borderline-idiotic series of articles that I love so much. When doing distribution, meeting Arthurians at the very serious Arthur office, checking our inbox, or tabling at Clubs and Groups Day, the common remark I hear from you sweet, sweet hooligans is often along the lines of “I am so invested in Gator.” It is remarkable that a column born out of a panicked editorial has become a crucial part of Arthur lore, and one cannot, I daresay, think of Arthur without thinking of my fat little guy.

To this bare fact, I raise a toast to you all who have kept my ever-fading motivation to keep returning to G3. 

This said, if you recall the last Gator Goes Global, there was a bit of a contest which would determine the fate of this current column. I cannot comment on the number (or lack thereof) of submissions for Gator fanart that swept across my desk, but I can introduce Gator Fan Number Two (I, as his mother, claim the top spot) as none other than Arthur journalist Allen Barnier who has blessed Gatorthurians with another installment of Gator fanart that keeps this sorry column going. 

Everyone say thank you, Allen!

We are all a part of the collective Gator hivemind and should you want to contribute to the greatest thing since Wattpad, email editors@trentarthur.ca to submit your Gator art to be featured in future fat orange guy updates. Or, as always, to see a new influx of photos taken of my boy during the holiday break. No matter what, I can assure you all that Gator is over the moon that the good people of Peterborough are rallying in his name.