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Dear [insert name of recipient here],
By the time you read this, I'll be held at gunpoint by my twisted aunt Maggie for stealing cookies from the cookie jar. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I know what you're thinking: "Did he fire six shots or only five?" Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself a question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk? I know this might seem like , complicated, bewildering, and kind of erotic to you, seeing as we made all those plans to infiltrate the "Red Cross" organization and shamelessly purloin their charity funds, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — or at least that's what you're supposed to say in these situations. I just need to engage in homicidal behavior on a massive scale. It can not be corrected but I have no other way to fulfill my needs. I want to tell you that I think you are perfectly looking, at least according to Neptunian standards, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are from another dimension, and I am the main character in a really crappy pulp horror novel about rabid watermelons. You like caressing lamp accessories, recording your own toilet visits and sharing it on file sharing networks as MP3's wrongfully named as famous songs, and filling guinea pigs with helium, and I'm just not sure I can ever share your joy in those things. How can two people so different ever make it for the long haul? I think we should date other people. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I run around screaming and foaming in my padded cell. I'd really like us to become people that pretend they never dated, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, up until the effect of the morphine wore off. Take care of yourself and never forget that I know where you buried the body, and won't hesitate to contact police should the need arise.
~ Your intestinal parasite. P.S. Remember to drink the nut-flavored tea I poured you today. D.S. |