Dear Oliver,
Let me begin by apologizing that your first assignment has gone so terribly awry. However, I did tell you to get a full tune up before you got to NYC, crazy things happen. Maybe not as crazy as your engine turning into a tripped out poster that stoners would buy from their college poster sale, like I have said, it’s truly unfortunate.
Either way, I am glad to hear from you. I nearly forgot you weren’t busy in Somalia: finding all sorts of facts, making friends, catching a tan, enjoying the view and hanging with pirates.
I have received one letter from your mom asking how your trip was going. Obviously, you haven’t phoned your mother. This lack of concern for your mother makes me question taking you on as an intern. I forgive you. Sometimes mom’s can be a tad overbearing. To put her at ease I sent her an autographed picture of myself, $20 dollars cash and a $25 dollar gift card to Bed Bath and Beyond.
That should make up for the little mishap that her son got himself into.
That reminds me. I’m not to sure that I liked your tone in a part of your sloppy letter. The person that I sent on the story of a lifetime in the beautifully interesting, and yes, at times terrifying country of Somalia was a: modest, hard working, humble reporter. He had big dreams, big hopes and loved big sandwiches. Where is that young man!? It makes me sad. It makes me doubly sad because I know that those sandwiches have expired and the meat and cheese has developed an odor not unlike when you spilled milk in your car, but weren’t aware of it for a week and couldn’t place the odor, but new that something was rotting slowly, somewhere, teasing and haunting you.
So, about Steven Steve Stephens. He’s a saint! A great man! He’s got me out of some serious scrapes with the law. One time an elderly woman asked me to mow her lawn for the summer. I agreed I would manage her lawn. She was a woman that crept across the street, knocked as soft as a bug accidentally flying into a pane of glass and spoke close to your face with a whisper that was inaudible. Our conversation lasted 25 minutes, it was a slow mass of words slithering out of her mouth trying to find my ear.
Anyway. I agreed. I didn’t say I would mow her lawn, I told her I would manage her lawn. She went on vacation to Michigan, somewhere in the mitten she said, I had no idea what she was talking about, she said it was a Michigan thing.
On a day that the sun seemed on top of you, I went across the street and began my job. It took me five hours of relentless work, but I managed. I fenced in her entire lawn. I had then gone to a local goat farm and purchased 30 goats. I placed them inside the fence. You see, goats will eat anything. If you stand next to some, talking away to another person, you will feel a slight tug on your shorts or shirt, look down to find a goat with their three stomachs trying to bite of a piece of your clothing.
When she returned she got out of the car and fell flat on her butt. I was excited. I thought I had really impressed her. It wasn’t until she walked slower than a street sweeper trying to milk extra hours. She knocked as softly as a bubble and glared at the door. I knew something was wrong at that point. She lit into me with all that she could muster. I told her I thought the goats could keep her company. She told me that Alex Trebek, Brian Williams and Regis was all she needed! She sued me for $18,000 dollars, the money she had paid me for the summer ($300 dollars) and psychological damages because one of the goats, I named Sally, tried to chew off her sun dress as well as her fanny pack, while Mrs. Sharrp talked to the Ice Cream Man. The goats also had ate a good portion of the siding from her home.
Anyway, Steven Steve Stephens and his $6,000 dollar suit got me out of that one. So is this deputy girl hot? She has most of her information private on Facebook and she has a picture of an ocean as her profile pic. I can’t make heads or tails of their relationship, Oliver, sorry.
I have to go, people are starring at me. I’m getting too famous to sit at a coffee bar with a sign that says this guy is famous on my table.
Let Steven Steve Stephens do his magic, he’ll get to work. I’ll send him an autographed picture of myself as well as a gift card to Applebees, he’ll be able to take the chick to dinner and come back in with a new attitude.
Stay Strong,
Coyote Rush
