To Tile or Not to Tile – Letter 8

Mack,

SUCCESS! I can not thank you enough for your assistance in our little “adventure.” I could not have done it without you. Not only because of your uncanny ability to pick locks (I won’t ask how you learned to do it so well), but for taking those paralysis darts to the leg. Like the filthy, stealing rat he is, Gaston took a page out of my own book and booby-trapped his office. Luckily for us (more so for me, though), I was able to re-steal my sketch from Gaston’s portfolio while you wriggled on the ground like a deer stuck in a bear trap. I, of course, displayed my astonishing strength by carrying you back into the car.

So, are you out of the wheelchair yet?

I feel a little bad about your fiance showing Clutterbuck her boobs, though. Who knew Gaston could have predicted her special weakness (if you forgot, its cocaine!)? Still, she did a fantastic job and hopefully she didn’t start the habit again.

Mack, I am a man of my word. Now that this ordeal is over, I will be your best man. You’ve earned your respect back from me and its the least I could do. However, since I’m so generous, I’ll be giving you MORE! I’ll reveal my recently-re-procured masterpiece “Two Businessmen High-Five While Bruce Lee Flying Kicks Out of the Explosion” AT YOUR WEDDING! I know, its quite an honor, but you ARE my brother and you DID help me steal it. Oh, what a party this will be.

If you wish to send Mom and Dad’s invitation here, I’ll hand-deliver it to them. I can’t wait to see the look on their face when they find out you’re not dead! If I had to guess, it would probably be a mixture of astonishment, confusion and disgust. I’ll try to get some camera-phone pictures.

So again, Mack, thank you so much.

Your Brother,
Steve

P.S. – MY GOD did Joanne looking bangin’ in that Princess Leia costume. I sure would love to play with her Thermo-detonators. That is, if she wasn’t your fiance and all.

To Tile or Not To Tile – Letter 6

Mack,

I could be wrong here, but this just may be the one somewhat decent idea you’ve ever had. To be honest, every idea that you’ve had that I can remember has been complete dog shit. It seemed like every time you opened your mouth, a cacophony of garbled ass would come spewing forth, poisoning every living being within a 15 foot radius. Sometimes I wondered if the only thing happening in your brain was an army of orangutans running at full-force headfirst into a brick wall.

But I digress. This time you may be on to something.

I think the best way for your fiance to immediately get Clutterbuck’s attention would be to have her appear at his office in a Princess Leia outfit; you know, the one from when she was a slave in Jabba the Hutt’s palace? If Gaston is anything like me (considering he’s pretty much copied my life, I can guess he is a little bit), he’ll be like Play-Dough in her hands. I’ll provide the costume, I’ve had it lying around in a closet since the wife and I used to to role-play. That won’t weird Joanne out, will it?

All you have to do is make her memorize this line: “I’m from out of town and on my way to the local Science Fiction convention. Being a single, half-witted woman, I’ve seemed to have lost my way. Teehee, silly me. I’m a huge fan of tile art so I figured I could experience an under-appreciated art and get directions at the same time. You know, killing two birds with one stone, or whatever.” Just make sure she doesn’t throw in any of that Shakespeare “ye” or “tis” shit, then he’ll know its a trap.

He’ll undoubtedly ask her out to dinner that night, so that will be our chance to strike. Wear all black with a mask and make sure to stretch, we don’t want to pull a muscle or anything. It shouldn’t be too tough, we’ll smash in his window, rummage through his shit, find the paper and bolt. To the regular person it’ll seem like some everyday robbery, the authorities will be none-the-wiser. Come to my house the day you receive this letter and we’ll begin preparations.

By the way, I’m kicking myself for not mentioning this in the previous letters, but Mom and Dad think you’re dead. I convinced them to hold off on the funeral till the authorities found the body, but as far as they’re concerned they have only one son, now (although I’m not sure its too much different from when they thought you were alive, HAHA!). I’ll let them know you’re not dead.

I anxiously await your arrival, brother.

Sincerely,
Steve