Oh, amorous babe o’ mine, I am in love with this “artist’s lifestyle” which I am currently leading. The paper is asking me to deliver to them a cartoon thrice weekly, which means that in order to heed your advice and be drunk all the time (so that my art may excel into realms which it can not whilst sober), I have been on an overload of creation and ingestion.
I can not wait for you and Claudio (the mouse, not my brother) to come home to Windsor. Although, my dear, know that I am not the same Eliza as I was before you left. This Eliza is in high demand, and you must get accustomed to my frequent indulgences, alcoholic mood swings, lash-outs from a creative block in ideas, bottle smashes, and vomits. Of course, my love will still be there for you, albeit a bit hungover.
In order to get you used to our new lifestyle, I have included my schedule:
Sunday, Monday, Thursday – Drink from Dawn until Dusk in order to create a vivid Cartoon.
Tuesday – Drink in the morning. Attend The Meeting of Ladies for the Creation of a New World (going to Adeline’s place to indulge in alcohol and occasionally illicit drugs).
Saturday – Spend the day with Wilbur, the love of my life…while CORNED!
Wednesday – An entire day of rest and slumber whilst I recuperate.
As you can see, I have scheduled us for Saturdays. You always said those were your favorite days since the wildlife seemed more awake and easier to talk to. I have not forgotten you, my love.
In fact, if these cartoons allow us enough financial stability to wed, and live harmoniously together, I plan on having such a lavish estate with a beastly amount of acreage so that you may commune with the wildlife.
Also, our estate will have a “Drinking Room” which locks from the outside, so that my alcohol-induced states of extreme violence and swearing will not interfere with our love!
See, Wilbur, I have got it all figured out. Now I just need you to get your sweet rump back home to Windsor!
As for your letter, I am glad you left that worthless camp full of fox murderers and doctors who wouldn’t know how to diagnose Adult Onset St. Vitus Dance if a medical book on diagnostics was right in front of their pathetic noses! My fury for these men is at least triple the previously highest fury this world has ever seen! My rage makes wars seem like baths, and I wish I could slaughter them all and drain their blood into my morning cup of Scotch.
That being said, please be careful on your long and arduous journey back home. My lips will be well-wetted by whisky and awaiting the lovers lock that is your lips pressed against mine. Once you arrive, I do believe the whole world will hear how loud I will passionately shout your name. I had begun a practice of practicing this shouting; however, I was told by local law enforcement to cease under the penalty of being “hauled to the Looney Bin.” I held back my desire to murder those men who dare think they could tell me what to do all for you, my love. Making love to you, Wilbur, on top of a pile of the blood and corpses of our enemies is the thought that lately has been getting me through the day. First on the list to murder are these so-called officers of the law which I speak of. Next will be the doctors and men on your fox adventure. I do not have a third yet, but lately I am very easy to agitate and fantasize about murder, so I am sure it will not be long.
Be safe, Wilbie! I love you so much, and I anxiously await your reply.
P.S. I have included a copy of my latest cartoon published in the paper. Your love for animals inspired me!