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 no, I am not going to stop sending these letters just because the judge and my psychiatrist told me not to.
I know this might seem like an episode of Days of Our Livesto you, seeing as we made all those plans to infiltrate the "Save the Children" organization and shamelessly purloin their charity funds, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — well; not really. I just thought it'd sound good.I just need to find someone who is male and breathes — and quickly.
I want to tell you that I think you are evil and manipulative, but I don't think we're right for each other.First of all, we're not really compatible. You are from another dimension,and I am that lonely obsessed stalker who refused to just settle for your autograph.You like having sex in dumpsters,harassing sheep until they explode, andyou cannot lie, the other brothers can't deny, when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist and a round thing in your face you get sprung,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 I finally track you down and kill you.
I'd really like us to become supervillains and plot to conquer the world together (after which I will kill you as there can only be one true Master),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 where you leave the keys. Honestly, those things are are a PAIN to find again.