Chapter 177: In Which Our Hero, Fresh Off The Boat From India, Gets Into A Duel With A Spaniard, Woos An American Lass And Deftly Insults A Frenchman.

…which is the best way to do it

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The Doclopedia #1,213

Letter I Have Written: To A Cousin

Dear Oswald,

It was good to hear from you after all these years! You look great in that picture. It would seem that being in prison helped you lose that weight you had.

I was sorry to learn that Millicent threw you over for another man. It’s a sad thing when a woman can’t wait for her man to finish a little fifteen year stretch for stealing diamonds. You’re better off without her. She won’t be happy with that millionaire guy, trust me.

I can’t tell you much about how your mom felt about you going to prison, because Aunt Francine never spoke about you after the trial and would become crazy angry if anyone else did. I wish you could have asked her yourself. Pity that colony ship to Mars left two days before you got out.

No clue as to where your siblings went. Last one I saw was Irving and that was about 8 years ago. I think he said he was going to live in the jungle somewhere. I heard rumors that Andromeda became a nun or maybe a cruise director. Sylvia just up and disappeared, although Uncle Homer swears he saw her on an episode of “Cops”.

Your dad was living down in Texas for a while, but then he became a Bigfoot hunter and traveled all over North America. Last anyone heard of, he was living in northern Idaho with this really tall, REALLY ugly woman. I think they had a couple of kids.

I have to wrap this up now, but since you asked about your parent’s old house, and the basement thereof, I can tell you that the house burned down about 3 years after you went in the pen and your dad sold the property 2 years later. As far as I know, that basement is now full of hard packed soil and sitting under the North State Mall, out near I-80 and Lonely Road. Hope you didn’t have anything valuable in that basement. Ha ha ha!

Hoping things go well at the halfway house,

The Suspense Filled, Yet Kind Of Sweet, Story Of Mostly Purple Patty And The Dungeon Of The Snake Cult

…co-starring her pet squid, Mr. Calimari


The Doclopedia #1,212

Letter I Have Written: To A Girlfriend


Dearest Angelique,

By now you have realized that I flew the coop sometime between when you fell asleep and when you woke up. Actually, it was at 2:10 am, but that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you and I have come to a parting of the ways that I decided not to tell you about in advance, largely because of that pistol you keep in your nightstand.

It’s not you, baby, it’s me. Well, okay, it’s partly you, but nothing based upon your looks or age, both of which are totally excellent. No, it’s just that I’m not a settling down kind of guy and even if I was, I would not be into settling down in a tiny pissant village in East Texas. I’m also not really into the whole Southern thing. Really, sweetie, I’m at the point where I’m crapping cornbread and pissing sweet tea and I want to strangle the next person that asks if I’ll be at church next Sunday.

So, anyway, it’s all for the best. You’ll be happier without me, though it might take a few years to reach that point. I’ll be off somewhere living a miserable life where people don’t drown everything in gravy after deep frying it, comforting myself with women who are so below you that I might have to use two or three at a time.

I only took what I had on me when we met, plus that case of beer. And that bottle of bourbon. And the dog. And that $200 we had set aside for a trip to New Orleans.

Don’t hate me. If you do hate me, please don’t come looking for me, especially not drunk and armed.