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Wednesday, September 4, 2024
Dear Jimbo,
By the time you read this, I'll be devolved into an amorphous amoeba. 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 an unexpected departure to you, seeing as we made all those plans to infiltrate the "Amnesty International" organization and shamelessly purloin their charity funds, but I just don't see things working out that way. I'm sorry about this — really. No, really. Those are teardrops on the letter, and not spittle from laughter. I just need to finish that annoying Zork game on that Uncyclopedia website I told you about yesterday (it's driving me crazy, it's like no matter what you do, you'll ALWAYS end up being eaten by a grue!). I want to tell you that I think you are ...exceedingly punctual, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a Nazi war criminal, and I am all that and more. You like bungee jumping from church steeples, talking like Captain Kirk, and belly-button sniffing, 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 again someday, but only if you go in for surgery and get your brain replaced. And your nose. Or to keep it simple, ask them to change everything but your name. Or have them change that as well, unless doing so would complicate billing. But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever the hypnotism I'm paying for wears off. I'd really like us to become an African-American comedy duo, if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, nah; I'm just screwing with you. Take care of yourself and never forget where you leave the keys. Honestly, those things are are a PAIN to find again.
~ Your sycophantic lodger whom you will never be rid of. |