Thank you so, so, so much for carrying my wriggling body out of Gaston’s office. You saved my life. Also, thank you for your concern about my partial paralysis due to taking those paralysis darts to the leg. To answer your question, no, I am not out of the wheelchair yet. The doctor said that the poison inside of the darts was curare, which happens to be common for arrow poisons originating in South America. I guess Gaston learned something from his time spent in the rain forest besides “when those bugs bite you, it’s gonna cause some serious shit.” Remember when he told us he was vomiting and coughing up blood for weeks after we sent him down there on a bogus tiling offer? HA! Oh, how we laughed at that.
Unfortunately, now the joke’s on me. Curare contains tubocurarine chloride, which is now only used in the United States as part of the lethal injection procedure. The doctor’s say I may never walk again.
Joanne is at a crossroads regarding our wedding. As I mentioned before, being a big player in the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, she wants it to be Shakespeare themed. However, my current inability to walk is limiting my character choice very heavily. She said that Richard III was portrayed as disabled, but that she “would not want to marry that brash and unlikeable man.”
Oh, she is also at a crossroads thanks to Gaston Clutterbuck giving her cocaine. She has been jonesing for a fix, just like back in the old days before she kicked the habit. I must say that while I enjoy her taking her shirt off, I usually like to limit that and the crotch grabbing to both the bedroom and only my crotch, respectively. When she smacks up some blow, this simple goal of mine becomes harder to achieve.
But, enough about me. I’m so happy to hear that I’ve earned your respect! While my legs may be on the fritz, at least for the time being, your respect has become my wings. I can not WAIT to see your amazing latest masterpiece of tile-work, “Two Businessmen High-Five While Bruce Lee Flying Kicks Out of the Explosion.” My wedding just got a whole lot better!
Joanne still wants to marry me, but I am a bit worried that she’ll change her mind any day now. You’ve always been good with the ladies; got any advice? When she’s off the drugs and when I could walk, we were perfect together. But now, when she delves into her recently-acquired secret stash of cocaine, she mocks me, and calls me “Professor Limp Dick of the Asshole Squad.” I hate to sound like your teenage son instead of your brother (by the way, how is Steve Jr. doing?), but I could really use some help on how to get her clean and win her heart once again.
I’ve also sent Mom and Dad’s invitation in this letter. As you mentioned, please hand-deliver it to them. I hope they are still not disgusted at my lack of success and years of debauchery, and that they will attend the wedding (as well as be happy to hear that I am alive).
I’ll be talking to you soon, brother. I’m so happy I once again have your respect.
P.S. Thank you for your comment about Joanne’s hotness. I certainly agree she looked great in that Leia costume. I also hope your new-found respect for me includes not seducing my fiance.