Dear John Malkovich,
By the time you read this, I'll be at Moe's Tavern, having much more fun than you.
I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but with your breath, a letter seemed the safest option.
I know this might seem like a big surprise
to you, seeing as we made all those plans to infiltrate the "Red Cross" 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 kick you while you're down, before the snooker comes on the telly.
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 wanted in nineteen states,
and I am a member of a religion that has repeatedly confirmed that people like that are going to burn in hell.
You like playing Worms 3D, scratching yourself publicly, and arguing with the voices only you can hear over dinner plans,
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 it is that I need to confess my most heinous sins on my deathbed.
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, before you decided to become yourself and get to be so much of a stuck-up prig.
Take care of yourself and never forget that your psychiatrist thinks you're a jerk too.
Yippee ki yay, motherfucker,
~ The collective members of your band.
P.S. I have two tickets to the Splintern Hemisphere and was wondering if you'd like to come with me? You know, just in memory of the good 'ol days? D.S.
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