By the time you read this, I'll be writing to Uncyclopedia.I'm sorry for leaving you this way, but I'm not getting any younger, and you're not getting any richer.
I know this might seem like an Uncyclopedia in-joketo you, seeing as we made all those plans to blow up the moon together, but I just don't see things working out that way.
I'm sorry about this — at least so long as I remain intoxicated.I just need more time alone. No... More time away from you. All of it, really. Yeah. That's what I mean to say.
I want to tell you that I think you are ...more than passable, but I don't think we're right for each other.First of all, we're not really compatible. You are possessed by Pazuzu,and I am a Mousketeer.You like attacking clergymen,dating circus midgets, anddisturbing annual sci-fi conventions with whistles and cymbals,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 on different continents.But I want you to know that I'll think of you whenever I'm too lazy to clean my dishes by myself.
I'd really like us to become engaged in a brutal medieval fight to the death with the good ole' armour, horse and lances (but only if I get to win),if that's okay with you. I think we can do it. We had some good times, my left hand and I.
Take care of yourself and never forget all the people we've killed together.
Tell your mom I said hi,
~ 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.