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London 7 March 2007

Dear Colin,

I am writing this letter because I feel that it is the only way that you will notice my
presence. You and I met over six months ago, at a little cafeteria down-town. Over the months
our relationship has grown more and more and eventually we became more than just friends.
Though lately, Colin…I feel that we are not what we once were. Lately I have been having
this feeling that we have…well how to put this nicely…’grown apart’.
It appears to me that you have decided to put me off as mere excrement of your social
agenda. I feel as if I am nothing more than a fallen petal in a field of chamomiles. In recent
times you have preferred the company of your ‘friends’ to me. Well let me tell you something;
these friends of yours are not willing to do half of the things I am willing to do for you.
Nevertheless I can understand that I can come over as being too possessive and thus
you require a break from my persona, yet what I still cannot comprehend is why you couldn’t
just tell me that straight to my face. Instead you had to sleaze your way out of it you pathetic
little germ. That’s right, you’re nothing more than a disease and you just happened to infect
me. Now judging by your behaviour you probably don’t want to see me anymore and well I’m
perfectly fine with that because I can’t stand seeing your ugly head either.
You see, I thought very long about whether or not I should write this letter and I decided to do
it, simply because it isn’t all about you. No this letter is different than what you are used to;
this letter is actually also about me.
Ever since we met I was crazy about you, I loved everything there was to love about
you but you ruined it. We were like family, brothers, friends and even lovers. But your dirty
ego ruined all of that. See, whenever you had to choose between me and your friends, you
chose them. And perhaps you do not understand that that hurts! Lately you never want to do
anything with me, but that is all going to change right here.
Remember last Sunday, Colin? Or were you too drunk? Well let me refresh your
memory. We were at Phil’s house and you got so wasted you couldn’t even walk straight. But
that didn’t set me off, now; what did though was that when it was time to go home, you
decided to stay. But don’t worry Colin, because guess what, I went home with Rob. That’s
right, and not only that, we went to OUR apartment, into OUR bed and we had a great time
like you and I USED TO have.
Are you feeling a bit sick Colin? Don’t worry, there’s more so I suggest you get a
bucket. See at first when I told this to some of our friends they thought I was acting very
selfish, though after I told them the entire story they understood where I was coming from.
Apart from Jack, who thought I lost it and tried to call the police. Well, Jack was left behind
with a hole in his throat, bleeding on his kitchen floor. I heard he’s doing fine now; he just
can’t speak for the rest of his life.
I hope you feel like crap now, Colin. I hope I have destroyed every ounce of self
esteem you had left in you. If not, don’t worry, I’m not finished yet honey. Upon your return
from Los Angeles you will notice that your key will not open the door to ‘our’ apartment any
longer, I had the lock replaced. Don’t worry, your possessions can be found at warehouse 23
at the harbour. If you just so happen to decide to act like a real man all of a sudden and come
after me or Rob then I will not hesitate to use that 9 mm. you gave me for my birthday…for
self defence purposes, remember? Oh, and that little accident you had a while back involving
money deposits to your account that weren’t supposed to go there…well I’m telling that to the
police. Have fun at your little consumer goods convention. I wish you all the best (ha-ha).

Lovingly Yours,
William I. Spank

P.S Where did you put the bloody remote?