Dear Jane, I am writing you this letter to

Dear Jane, I am writing you this letter to let you know how much I adore the ground you walk upon. Every single day, I

constantly wonder when my experiment will be completed. You may be dead, yet I will return you to life. How is it that you continue to

form so much tension between us and the

spring that was holding us back against the wooden block. I wasn't quite sure how to answer this physics conundrum but

I gave it my best shot. "I choose option B," I said, gritting my teeth. But by the tremor we felt, I knew that was just about the stupidest thing I could have said then.

"B is for Blood" he whispered. The sound stung my ears and I could hear my pulse begin to pound, as if resonating with the dark curses laced into his intent. "B is for Blister"

I scowled. "I thought you said that B was for Blood. Now it's Blister? Fine, then. C is for Confused." I nodded triumphantly. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Smoke that pipe because "C" is also for crack. Once you hit this rock your eyes and tongue will never be the same. "A" is for addiction and "D" is for disinherited you beastly

Cads are a dime a dozen, champ. If you really want to gall a shameless bastard like me, why don't you try a something more original? Say... 'amigo.'"