Dear Anonymous,
By the time you read this, I'll be fatally assaulted by rabid squirrels.
I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but this world simply isn't big enough for the both of us.
I know this might seem like an episode of Days of Our Lives
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to cannibalize your family, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — I think. I just need more space. Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan is sounding pretty nice to me right now.
I want to tell you that I think you are evil incarnate, but I don't think we're right for each other.
First of all, we're not really compatible. You are a satanist,
and I am a nun.
You like beating yourself up in front of a mirror, filling stuffed animals with ice cream, 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 again someday, but only if you go in for surgery and get you 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 I desperately try another time traveling session to prevent the sad chain of events that led me to meet you in the first place.
I'd really like us to become friends, but I think that won't happen. I rather not speak to you again,
if that's okay with you. I think we can do it.
We had some good times, pretending we're screwing someone else.
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.
Yippee ki yay, motherfucker,
~ The collective members of your band.
P.S. Remember to drink the nut-flavored tea I poured you today. D.S.
Featured Article (read another featured article)
