The Fox Trapper – Letter 7

To my oft-inebriated love Eliza,

Claudio and I have made the decision – we’re escaping this horrid encampment. I can tell from miniature companions squeals and shakes that he is trying to tell me that something terrible is going to happen to me. I fear the men have grown tired of me and my “antics,” as the captain has called them. One evening about a week ago one of the men caught me yelling “BEWARE! BEWAAAAARE!!” off into the forest and they now believe I’ve gone mad. The camp medic has diagnosed me with an adult case of St Vitus Dance and they have quarantined me to my own personal tent. What fools, the only disease I have is my amorous feelings towards my furry friends. That and my recurring case of Crimpers Pelvis.

I must say, my dear, that I am extremely impressed by the enormous amount of progress you have made in your art. Dare I say it, maybe you should be inebriated ALL the time! The results are in plain sight, you perform much better under the influence. Alas, if only MY expedition had left for the wilderness to get Corned, I would not be in the sad state I am in now. Even being permitted to get corned would help ease the pain of being kept in this stuffy tent.

Claudio and I plan on leaving the encampment tonight under the cover of darkness. I shall send this letter and then prepare for the long journey through the woods. Eliza, it will be a long, arduous journey, and I am fearful of what evils await me on this trail. However, the thought of returning to your arms back home in Windsor is my last glimmer of hope. Embracing you with all my might while enjoying the scent of a large breakfast as well as a bit of licorice emanating from your golden locks. Pressing my lips against yours and becoming slightly inebriated from the whiskey on your breath. Seeing your brother over your shoulder giving me the subtlest of winks. This is what I travel for. THIS IS WHAT I LONG FOR!

If you wish to reply, I shall be headed towards Charleston, West Virginia and will check the post office upon my arrival. Please Eliza, pray for my whiskered ally and I.

Until I am wrapped in your arms once more,

Wilbur

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The Fox Trapper – Letter 5

To my foreverfully astonishingly gorgeous Eliza,

There’s a hole in my heart that goes all the way to Savannah, Georgia. It was merely a pin-prick the early morning I bid you goodbye and left Windsor, but it has now grown to the size of Ol’ Mr. Sleepinberg’s cesspit. This void can be filled by one person and only one person, and that person is you, Eliza. All I would need to fill it is one smile from your mostly-still-intact set of teeth. I’m none too sure how long I can continue on this horrible venture, my body has grown weak from lack of proper nutrition and each day we travel further West in search of more foxes. I’m not sure how long I can stay up so late in order to save my furry friends, I fear very much for their safety.

My sole companion, Claudio, is the one thing here that keeps me sane. I’ve taught him another new trick! Whenever I poke him with what I like to call the “trick stick” and ask him “Who is the strongest, cleverest and handsomest beast in all the land?”, Claudio screams like a Harpy and bounces off the walls of his cage. What I believe he is saying is “ME! ME, YOU DAMNED VILE SCUM! I AM CLAUDIO, THE MIGHTIEST BEAST OF THEM ALL!!!” Mice are such fascinating creatures.

Eliza my dear, I’m sure what you meant to explain to your companions was that your brother Claudio was assisting me in my attempt to learn the sport of golfing. So yes, my hands were certainly on your brothers shaft, as were his own, as he pressed his thick muscular body against my back and demonstrated how to “put ones hips into it.” I’m sorry, but I do not understand people’s fascination with mine and your brother’s relationship. That is just how men who have great amounts of respect for each other act. Please explain this to your ladies so as to not have them think that Claudio and I have ever intentionally felt each others sweet caress.

My Crimpers Pelvis is still very much enflamed and the blood to urine ratio is beginning to lean more towards the blood side. I just do not trust any man here enough to have them tickle my feet for 16 minutes. I suppose I will just hope to urinate all the evil spirits out of my body, which requires a great deal of extra pushing, but I can tell there is significantly more blood leaving my body, so there is still hope.

Eliza, the thought of running away from camp has crossed my mind a number of times. If only I knew the wilderness better, I would leave now and be back in your arms within a matter of months. Alas, I am doomed to sit, wait, and complain until the time has come to return home. If only the captain allowed me to imbibe in our supply of alcohol like you do so frequently. I’m told it is for “men only,” but nowhere on the barrel do I see that label nor would it matter if that label did exist. Sometimes I just do not understand these men I must work with.

Rest assured though, my dear, that when I return I shall wed the hell out of you. I readily anticipate your reply, tell your brother that I long for his arms the width of tree trunks wrapped around me while he assists me in gripping the shaft correctly.

The golf club shaft.

With all of my unbridled love,

Your Wilbur

The Fox Trapper – Letter 3

To my loveliest Eliza,

I’d like to thank you dearly for your beautiful artwork, it has certainly brightened my mood. I tried to use it in order to gain some respect in the camp, but again I received nothing but a violent response. I displayed the picture to one of the younger gentlemen and declared, “Here! Now you see the great power and regalness of Mr. Wilbur Popbottom! I DEMAND RESPECT!” The following moments are all a blur to me now but I awoke with a number of lesions on my face and a difficulty urinating for the next couple of days. The boy may be only 13 years old, but I swear he is built like a ox-bear hybrid beast.

Eliza my dear, I am certainly not obsessed with your brother, Claudio. I certainly respect his hard-working nature, friendliness, great physical strength, firm handshake, shining smile, Sapphire blue eyes, and chiseled jaw line. However, there is a mutual respect there because Claudio truly appreciates my virtuosic harping abilities. My pet mouse merely reminds me a bit of your brother, with his unending curiosity and ability to melt my heart at one glance. Claudio (my mouse) has now learned a new trick in which he screams like a Harpy and bounces off the walls of his cage when he is hungry. I call it “The Banshee Shakes” and it is truly adorable.

Do not tell anyone of this, but I’ve taken to walking into the woods very late at night and searching for the foxes by myself. When I see one I warn it of the impending danger of the humans who are after their fluffy coats. They seem to take notice of my warnings because when I attempt to give them a “truce” handshake, they run away. I suppose they are too concerned with their lives to partake in the formalities, so I do not take offense.

Eliza, I know you are a smart woman so I am yet to be worried, but please heed my advice about indulging in spirits. You know what they say about alcohol: It’s been the cause of death for all of my grandparents, 2 of my sisters and a myriad of aunts and uncles. So, you know, be careful. It could even lead to you telling many an embarrassing story, such as the plum pudding one. You know I still have a limp from that incident.

I miss you Eliza, with all of my heart. Stay strong, for your man shall be home before you know it. Also, if you feel so inclined, tell Claudio to stay strong (which will be easy for him thanks to his bristling muscles), for his dear friend Wilbur will be home before he knows it.

With all my loving heart,

Wilbur

The Fox Trapper – Letter 2

Wilbur,

I hope that you know how my heart longs for your presence. I must admit that when you had first left I felt as if I could not go on without you. “How,” I would ask myself, “do you continue without Wilbur? How is it that one can know of Wilbur’s arms, strong and, dare I say, seductive, and yet continue to be parted from both Wilbur and said arms?” It was a challenge I thought would never be capable of completion.

While I am overjoyed to hear from you, I am saddened that your expedition is not going so well. It is a shame that those men you are with have been mocking such a beautiful soul as yours! And why? Simply because you prefer Peas to Patties? Mint to Mutton? Taffy to Tenderloin? This is absurd. When will the world learn that those who eat meat can live side-by-side with those who do not? As a strict vegetarian, I know you had hoped “fox trapping” would involve capturing foxes and rehabilitating them to be functioning domesticated animals. I am full of sorrow that, instead, your journey involves murder.

As for myself, I’ve made some new friends back here in Windsor, all of which are human–although please wish your pet mouse Claudio a fond hello back. I am sure you will have foreseen my displeasure over your choice of name. People in Windsor still talk about your unhealthy obsession with my brother Claudio.

In regards to my new acquaintances, their names are Adeline, Beatrice and Melba. We have started a Knitting Faction which meets every Tuesday at Adeline’s estate. Unlike you and I, these ladies are quite well off. The tea is exquisite, and the laughter, raucous. We often discuss our suitors’ follies; and while you know, Wilbur, that I think of you in the best light a woman could think of a man she loves, I must admit that I shared the Plum Pudding story with them. Beatrice laughed so hard that I believe Adeline may need new upholstery on her Rococo styled love seat.

I know you love my artwork, so I have sent, along with this letter, a drawing of you strangling a fox with your bare hands, and your men groveling by your feet. I hope this will brighten your spirits as well as empower your soul.

By showing this drawing to the men you are with, perhaps you can regain your sense of manliness while not having to hurt any real-life foxes.

As per your instructions, I am still polishing your harp daily. I must admit this task has been made easier when I dip into our secret supply of wine and scotch. I started to dip into the liquor reserves to ease the pain of missing you, and found out that inebriation is quite pleasurable!

When I am under the influence, I try to imagine new ways for us to have greater monetary gain so that we may wed and live in a nice home–the kind “the girls” have. Perhaps I will submit my artwork to the local newspapers and become a cartoonist! I am not sure how good this idea will seem in the morning, when I am of clear mental faculties.

Since the room is beginning to spin, I will end my letter. Please think positively. I know you will make it through the Winter, come back to my white, eggy skin, father a family, and be the best damned harpist the Scottish Symphony Orchestra has ever seen! Excuse the harsh language. I have a case of the giggles.

With warm regards, and all of my love,

Eliza