Dear Will Fargo,
My name is Zshbula. I come from the planet Zorak. I have to tell you that of all the earthlings I have ever seen, I find you the most attractive. Even though I’ve never actually seen you.
I dream about you all the time, Will Fargo. I think I’m obsessed with you. I know we come from different worlds but we will make it work.
There’s one problem, though.It’s my husband. Actually, I think you know him. He comes from Zorak too. His name is Zshbelzagub. He talks about you all the time, Will Fargo. He thinks you are out to get him. I think he’s obsessed with you.
But I don’t care about him. He is a pig.
Please understand something, though. I can’t leave him. Why? Because he’s loaded, that’s why. He’s the richest and most powerful Zorakian in the whole universe.
True, the universe is a small town, Will Fargo, but I think you’re worth the risk.
We were meant to be together, my darling. At least two or three times a week. I have a secret house in Pebble Beach that Zshbelzagub knows nothing about. He’s such an idiot.
Will, I want a close encounter with you and I want it now. A very close encounter. I can wait no longer. Call me on my iPod as soon as you can.
Signed,
Zshbula, your secret lover… in Pebble Beach
Dear Zshbula, my secret lover… in Pebble Beach,
I don’t know what to say, Zshbula, except that…well… I love you… and… don’t ever leave me or I’ll skewer myself with a dagger.
What do you look like, by the way?
So you’re married to Zshbelzagub, huh? Yes, I think this will work just fine. But it won’t be all fun and games, Zshbula. I need you to gather some very important and secret information for me.
There are plenty of things I need to know about that waste of sub-atomic particles you call a husband.
First, when can I find him at the Jamesburg Earth Station out in Carmel Valley making contact with his illegal underground genetic research laboratories on the moon?
And I need photographs of his experiments. I know he has some really weird crap going on up there. Starting with his Boys from Memphis project.
You know what I’m talking about, Zshbula. Thirty-two Elvis Presley clones that he plans on turning into castratos when they turn 12, that’s what.
And what for? Don’t play coy with me, Zshbula, you know what for. For his super group that will be the star attraction of nightlife in Z World, his space alien amusement park on the Monterey peninsula.
What kind of sick space alien mind dreams up crap like that, Zshbula?
And when can I find him down at West End in Sand City where his Z World entertainment empire headquarters are? Is he reading at any poetry slams down there? I really need to know what that pink-blooded, green bastard is all about.
Wait a minute, hold on, Zshbula, I have a transmission coming in on my iPod. Why does it always seem to happen when I’m listening to Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon?
I think it’s Zshbelzagub talking to what sounds like… a female Zorakian.
By the way, Zshbula, I’m sorry for all the times I referred to your race as aliens. I didn’t know what else to call you. But you’re not an alien to me anymore. Now you’re my little Zshboo Zshboo.
OK, I can hear them now. It sounds like they’re engaging in some sort of mating ritual or something!
Zshbula, I think that spindly-fingered creep is cheating on you! How dare he insult you like that?
I’ll ruin him!!
You need to tell me everything about Zshbelzagub, Zshbula! I need to infiltrate his moon operations and his multi-zillion dollar space alien entertainment empire, starting with his 4th dimension amusement park plans.
I’ll put that slime-drooling corporate bastard under a bridge for the next hundred years!
Call me on my iPod as soon as you can!
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