The Worst Disease Ever – Letter 11

Dr. Chiribada,

Things are really great here in Tijuana. The weather is consistently beachy and the locals are extremely accepting of out-of-towners as long as you’re willing to spend money. My wife and Penelope are getting used to our new lavish lifestyle as well as their sharing of me.

OH SHIT! I absolutely forgot to tell you what happened. You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been a hectic two weeks as you can probably tell. Let me explain:

After your last letter’s pep-talk, I decided that it was do-or-be-a-bird-dude for me, so that very day I got myself a bus ticket and high-tailed it to the Smithsonian. I left my wife a note explaining the whole situation and told her that if she really loved me she would support my robbing the Smithsonian and seeing Penelope. She admitted that after reading the note she burned all my belongings in a huge bonfire on the front lawn. However, everything has worked out just as I had suspected.

So I sauntered into the Smithsonian during regular hours and located the Fonz’s jacket among some classic television memorabilia. There was one chumpish looking security guard standing in the corner who I was pretty sure I could take if necessary. So I grabbed the jacket, set off the alarm, threw it on and WHAM!

Haha, you like that dramatic pause, huh?

I turned into a full-blown birdman. Think Big Bird if he joined a non-violent biker gang. I was as astonished as I’m sure you are right now. After giving myself time to think about it, I suppose I was born to be a birdman. If you can believe it, flying is pretty fucking cool.

Everyone in the museum reacted how most people who just saw someone steal a priceless piece of Americana and turn into a birdman react – the screamed their heads off and ran away. As a newly turned winged-beast/felon, I of course grabbed some more exhibits like Archie Bunker’s recliner, “Jeannie’s” super-sexy costume, and Lassie’s taxidermed body, among other things. I flew all the way home, grabbed my wife and Penelope and headed South.

Oddly enough, there’s an enormous demand for American TV set pieces in the Mexican black market. I made myself a hefty amount of dinero and bought myself a small villa on the hill.

Dr. Chiribada, thank you. Thank you so much. If it weren’t for your suggestion, I’d just be some loser slowly turning into a bird while cheating on his wife. And now… now I’m a super-rich bird-man with two chicks. TWO CHICKS, MAN!

Good luck with all of your future anthropomorphizational endeavors.

Respectfully,
Steve Chirpinsberg

The Worst Disease Ever – Letter 10

Steve,

I admire your deduction that “if Fonzie did it, it must be ok.” This is very true, which is why I approve of your theory. If you can smuggle Fonzie’s jacket out of the Smithsonian, you will probably have the world at your fingertips. My guess is that ladies left and right will be flocking towards you to turn on their Jukebox of Love. Not only because you’ll have Fonzie’s jacket on, but because wearing the jacket will have made your feathers explode off of you (so you’ll no longer be a freakish birdman).

However, I am a firm believer that Arthur Fonzerelli would have never manipulated two women by lying about the amount of ladies he was seeing. These women all knew that they had to share The Fonz, because he was just too much man for one single person. It’s like ordering a pizza: if you get a whole pie, you better be sharing it. If you get a date with Fonzie, you know he’ll be necking with another dame same time tomorrow.

With that said, it is important that you be honest with your wife. If the jacket begins to change your persona in some alien symbiote fashion (a la Spider Man), and you begin to parade around with dozens of women at a time, you have to tell your wife everything.

I mean, she’d be a FOOL to leave her husband who now has increased his sex appeal 10 million fold with the deduction of feathers and the addition of the most prized possession amongst all Happy Days memorabilia. However, stranger things have happened.

So my only suggestion is to remember to be honest to your wife, and steal the damn jacket already before you fully become a bird!!! By my count, if you don’t do it soon, you only have a few more weeks until you gain a beak. And when that happens, all hope is lost.

Godspeed, Steve.

– Dr. William Chiribada III

The Worst Disease Ever – Letter 9

Dr. Chiribada,

 Forgive me for being crass, but I can’t take this crap any longer. Is it possible for a man to be in love with two women at once? Given how I feel right now, I’m convinced that the answer is yes and this tears me apart in a very figurative way. If only I could have both the love and current marriage of my wife and the understanding and down-dirty freakiness of Penelope. Is that too much to ask for? Well, combining your idea and mine, it may not be.

 Do you recall the amount of times Fonzie dated two girls at once? On my count it was four if you count the Aloha Pussycats (and why wouldn’t you?). He even dated 2 sets of triplets! Well if the Fonz could get three SISTERS to date him at once, certainly some average Joe wearing that magical suit of armor known as Fonzie’s jacket could handle TWO UNRELATED gals. RIGHT?!

 I’m going to do it, Dr. Chiribada. I’m beginning to plan now and should be ready to pull the job off within a week. If you have any suggestions for me before I go, make sure to get back to me quickly. If not, the next time you talk to me, I’m going to be the coolest, least-plumaged dude this side of Arnold’s Diner.

God speed,
Steve

The Worst Disease Ever – Letter 8

Steve,

1. It’s Dr. Chiribada. ALWAYS Dr. Chiribada. Only my mother calls me “Bill,” and only my sex-crazed lovers call me “Willy.” You are neither.

2. There is absolutely no other option to improve your situation of turning into a bird. If you wanted another option, like a “pill or surgery or exposing [yourself] to extreme amounts of radiation,” you should have stuck with one of those quack “normal doctors” that you saw prior to me.

Because I did not want you to get in trouble for stealing from the Smithsonian (unless it is absolutely necessary), I took the privilege of writing Paramount Studios, asking them if they had any authentic Fonzie Jackets I could borrow to help turn you back into a man. I explained your situation, and got this in return:

Dr. Chiribada,

Thank you for writing in regards to Happy Days! Unfortunately, we do not have any “authentic Fonzie Jackets,” as you requested. But don’t “sit on it” yet! Ayyyyyyy!

We will be sending you a complimentary copy of Happy Days, The First Season on DVD. We hope this helps you stay in touch with the Fonz, Richie, and all your favorites in the Happy Days gang.

Sincerely,

Jane Smith

It is clear to me that Jane Smith is a moron with no medical training. Obviously, if watching episodes of Happy Days would cure you, I would have no need for the jacket. But it is not enough. Watching Ralph Malph cower away from confrontation while Fonzie breaks up the situation without using any violence is sure to give you a few more ManUp Points, yes. But your situation is dire. You are closer than ever to becoming a full-fledged birdman; and this ass-head Jane Smith is doing nothing to help! I mean, in season 1, Fonzie doesn’t even wear his leather jacket all that much! He’s got that white windbreaker number on and looking quite UNCOOL if I may say so myself.

So, I’m sorry to say, but you’re going to need to break into the Smithsonian. But, there is good news. I’m confident that your transformation back into a man by having your feathers explode off of you will happen the instant you put on Arthur Fonzerelli’s jacket. Therefore, you will not need to steal it. Simply put it on, give two thumbs up and your best Fonzie impersonation, and that should do the trick. This way, if you get caught, it’ll just be for tampering with a piece of fine art, and not attempting to steal it.

Let me know how this goes. Now stop reading, get off your feathered-ass, and DO IT!

– Dr. William Chiribada III

The Worst Disease Ever – Letter 7

Dr. Chiribada,

Your plan of stealing the Fonz’s jacket, albeit basically impossible to actually pull off, sounds as legitimate of a cure as any of the other ridiculous things you’ve made me do so far. I really wish there was an alternative like, I don’t know, a pill or surgery or exposing myself to extreme amounts of radiation. Are you sure this is my only chance for a cure?

If it comes down to it, I guess I’ll have to try, but I know my wife won’t be too excited about the larceny. I did my best this week to drop subtle hints about it like, “You know what would be cool? Stealing a very expensive piece of television history.” She’d laugh it off and call me douche bag just like all those times I dropped subtle hints about having a threesome. I don’t think she’ll ever understand, Bill. Maybe I should end things before things get REALLY messy, like, messier than me leaving down all over the bathroom sink when I shave or freaking out when she was cooking eggs for breakfast. Maybe she’s not the right gal for me.

You know who is an awesome gal?! Penelope Pogwater. She’d probably like stealing expensive memorabilia out of a museum just as much as she likes sleeping with bird-dudes. Which is, to say, quite a bit. I know you keep telling me to break it off, but its SOO HAAAAAAAAARD BECAUSE SHE’S SOOOOOOO IN TO ME! It’s been so long since someone thought I was really cool. Not since that time I beat Mega Man 2 in front of my 7 year old cousin. I was king of the world back then, Willy. KING I TELLS YA!

 Tweet-Dee Tweedle Dee Dee. Flee Do Dee Do Twee Do Dee. Twee Deet dee dee dee Tweet de tweedle do dee deet.

 Whoa, that was weird. It just kinda came out. Help…

 -StevBERKAW!

The Worst Disease Ever – Letter 6

Steve,

First off, that clearly drunk, clearly cross-dressing dude was hot. And there’s no shame in wanting a piece of that. I don’t discriminate: hot lady, hot man, hot cross dressing lady/man — it’s all good.

But, back to the topic at hand: Ms. Penelope Pogwater. Now, I had no intention on making this crazy bender something that would cause you to CHEAT ON YOUR WIFE. I was only hoping for some crazy fun, some macho one-eyebrow-raising, and some harmless flirting. You’ve got to play it cool, like Arthur Fonzerelli. Do you think he was having sex with all those girls he was with? NO. He was just necking a bit, and keeping Mrs. C proud. You overstepped your boundary here, Steve.

That being said, all hope’s not lost. What I need you to do is STOP having weird furry sex with Penelope! That’s only going to further your transformation into a bird. If you begin to develop real feelings for Penelope, your body is going to go into bird-overload, knowing that this is the only way to keep her.

Next step is to tell your wife the truth: tell her that the “tests” your doctor recommended was a bender. Tell her your Avian Anthropomorphism is getting worse. Tell her that she needs to help you steal Fonzie’s jacket from the Smithsonian museum.

Then, once she says “yes,” and “I love you, Steve” and “that Dr. Chiribada sounds like one sexlicious beast of a man,” you go take Fonzie’s jacket (and tell her that she’s right about me). I believe that once you have his jacket on you, your feathering will reverse itself. But you’re going to have to really…REALLY act like The Fonz. I want you non-stop watching reruns of Happy Days (I prefer past season 1, but before the infamous jumping-of-the-shark). Learn his mannerisms and take his teachings to heart.

When you get that leather jacket on your back, you may feel a jolt. That jolt is your body beginning to reject the feathers. Then, right then and there, your feathers should explode off your body. It won’t be a pretty sight (think pillow-fight on speed), and it may sting a little bit; but, luckily for you, the explosion of feathers may act like a smoke bomb: shielding you from the police and allowing your escape from the museum without criminal charges pressed against you.

Plus, the heist has an added benefit of being very macho, and that should do nothing but help your situation.

If this doesn’t work, I’m afraid your problem may be chronic and irreversible. In which case, you’ll be lucky if your wife doesn’t kill you and serve you grilled atop a bed of garlic sauteed spinach after you tell her you cheated on her.

Best of luck.

– Dr. William Chiribada III

The Worst Disease Ever – Letter 5

Dr. Chiribada,

In the words of the late, great Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons, “OH WHAT A NIGHT!”

My evening-out-turned-2-day-love-bender seems to have really done the trick for me. Sure, I’m still slowly becoming the a real-life version of Foghorn Leghorn, but after having met Ms. Penelope Pogwater, that may not be such a terrible thing. The things that happened once we left you to your hitting on that clearly drunk, clearly cross-dressing dude would make you slightly uncomfortable. But, since you’re a professional and you probably need to know about it for your research, I’ll tell you anyway.

Penelope walked into O’Malley’s at about the same time we finished our third set of shots of “Satan’s Knee Puss.” Maybe it was the Windex in the shots doing their thing to me, but I KNEW that I had to talk to her. I strutted over to her with more confidence than I’ve had in forever. We chatted, I bought her a couple of drinks. As I’m reaching for her hand to test the waters, my shirt-sleeve button gets caught on her bracelet and this young hottie I’ve been working the magic on gets a face full of down.

“This is it,” I thought, “this is where she freaks out, calls me a weird bird-freak-guy and runs.” But she didn’t. In fact, she grabbed my hand, called me a weird bird-freak-guy, and dragged me out the bar door to her place. From there we started our two day love-making, tequila-guzzling, sesame seed-gourging festival that ended when I realized that I HAVE A FAMILY HOLY SHIT!

So apparently there’s this group of people called furries. I think its a bit odd, but they like to dress up as animals and have sex in their costumes. Penelope is one of these people. I’m just as perplexed with it as you are right now.

I got home and told my wife I spent the last couple days having tests done and here I am, writing you, telling you that I cheated on my wife who won’t have sex with me because I’m a birdman with someone who won’t stop having sex with me because I’m a birdman. By the way, the symptoms haven’t reversed. Suggestions? Advice?

I look forward to you solving this terrible problem for me, Doctor. Thank you.

-Steve