By the time you read this, I'll be tortured by Jack Bauer.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 unexpected departureto you, seeing as we made all those plans to visit your grand-parents to give them a big ol' kiss, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — but I've been stuck in this nightmare world for months now, and writing this letter is my last chance of a wake up call.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 at least somewhat humanoid looking (which is about the only thing you have in common with mainstream humanity), but I don't think we're right for each other.First of all, we're not really compatible. You are so fat that Jupiter orbits around you sometimes,and I am a schoolgirl.You like having sex in dumpsters,painting your eyelids with pictures of eyeballs, andbelly-button sniffing,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, but in another life — preferably a previous one.But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I make additions to my personal list of people I intend to kill.
I'd really like us to become theatrical actors in a Romeo & Juliet play, except we'll kill ourselves for real in the end just for the sake of realism,if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, or so we'll pretend.
Take care of yourself and never forget that the xenomorph implanted in your chest is going to erupt and kill you violently within two hours.
~ Grand Admiral of Switzerland.
P.S. I think I ran over your mom with my car earlier today. At least I think it was her, but there wasn't much left to identify... D.S.