Dear Mulder and Scully,
By the time you read this, I'll be married. I regret to inform you that there were a number of contestants for my affections, and you were not the winner.
I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but my sadistic urges have become completely uncontrollable, and I don’t think I can see you again without having to torture you.
I know this might seem like a total violation of the laws of physics
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to terrorize the elderly couple that lives down the road, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — but another officer is at the door - I'll write more in an hour. I just need need need need need... well; I can't quite remember.
I want to tell you that I think you are going to find out that the anthrax I've contaminated this letter with might be quite unpleasant once it's started to take hold on you, but I don't think we're right for each other.
First of all, we're not really compatible. You are the latest addition to my evergrowing list of people I'm planning to kill,
and I am an amateur weightlifter.
You like stomping on turtles after eating mushrooms, painting your eyelids with pictures of eyeballs, and recommending suicide as the only viable cure for hiccups,
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 but only so I'll get another shot at killing your for real.
But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever someone asks me to define the word "promiscuous".
I'd really like us to become bitter enemies, constantly plotting each other's downfall until one of us (preferably me) succeeds, giving that person (again, preferably me) the opportunity to engage in stereotypical maniacal laughter,
if that's okay with you. I think we can do it.
We had some good times, before the police accidently found the body hidden in your closet.
Take care of yourself and never forget the restraining order the judge issued against you.
Police be upon you,
~ Lara Bingle.
P.S. That was an Amanita virosa (destroying angel) you ate yesterday, not a button mushroom as I thought. Oops, I guess I'm really bad with mushrooms... D.S.
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