Dear John letter

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Wednesday, November 22, 2017  

Dear Mulder and Scully,

By the time you read this, I'll be in jail. Three hots and a cot, and the judge says I can refuse to see anyone I want, including you. Finally. I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but it's not like I'm not going to kill you on Saturday anyway.

I know this might seem like a kick in the nuts to you, seeing as we made all those plans to throw the One Ring into the fires of Mount Doom in Mordor, but I just don't see things working out that way.

I'm sorry about this — but honestly, putting my hamster in the microwave was too much. I just need to find someone who is male and breathes — and quickly.

I want to tell you that I think you are a real pain in the ass, but I don't think we're right for each other. First of all, we're not really compatible. You are under surveillance by the CIA, and I am that lonely obsessed stalker who refused to just settle for your autograph. You like flaying lambs, stabbing yourself with carrots, and biking against red light at rush hour, 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 each other as soon as possible, since the Internet connection on my computer isn't working, and I figured I could browse through your computer during our "date". But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I sharpen my hunting knife out in the garage.

I'd really like us to become nihilistic Al-Qaeda terrorists and blow up everything that moves, 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 that each day of your life may be the last as long as I'm around.

Good bye and good riddance!,

~ Your alternate reality granddaughter.

P.S. I have two tickets to Moe's Tavern 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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