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Featured version: 8 December 2006 |
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Dear [insert name of recipient here],
I know this might seem like an odd twist of fate to you, seeing as we made all those plans to burn down our neighbor's house, 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 to kick you while you're down, before the snooker comes on the telly. I want to tell you that I think you are not the worst lover I ever had, but that would be a bald-faced lie, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a pederast, and I am an amateur weightlifter. You like urine sample collecting, huffing kittens, and dissecting frogs with butterknives, 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 the police ask me where I bought the stuff. I'd really like us to become partners in crime and steal candy from helpless little kids, 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'm being entirely serious.
~ Concerned Citizen.
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