By the time you read this, I'll be wiretapping your telephone calls.I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I'm not getting any younger, and you're not getting any richer.
I know this might seem like an episode of Days of Our Livesto you, seeing as we made all those plans to visit your grand-parents to give them a big ol' kiss, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — well, sort of, at least, kind of, maybe, a little...I just need more out of this relationship. Financially, emotionally, sexually, intellectually. Everythingually.
I want to tell you that I think you are not as strong in the Force as the Emperor thought, but I don't think we're right for each other.First of all, we're not really compatible. You are one of Evil Bert's sinister henchmen,and I am a schoolgirl.You like flaying lambs,dating circus midgets, anddisturbing annual sci-fi conventions with whistles and cymbals,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 each other's pets.But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I make additions to my personal list of people I intend to kill.
I'd really like us to become partners in crime and rob helpless old ladies of their retirement savings,if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, unless I was just dreaming.
Take care of yourself and never forget that it's going to take more than a restraining order to keep me away from our children — they are mine too and I will not be denied them.