A Merry Little Christmas

From: tj 34

To: CC14

Date Sent: December 23. 1998

Subject: Re: Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas!

Feliz Navidad and just what in the fuck are you trying to pull here? Christ! Calling me at my house?!!! Drunk on your ass?!!! Two in the morning?!!! Right after the bars close?!!! What were you thinking? What can I do after someone pulls a number like that except change the phone number and sever all contact? Crazy-ass bitch. Goddamn it, I don't care how fucking drunk you get, that's something you just do not do *ever* no matter what happens. Never! Ever! It's not permissible. I was fucking ready to fucking kill you. Now I have to memorize two new phone numbers, and for this old dog new tricks come hard. So tell me, are you proud of yourself? Did you actually think you could win me back with a caper like that? Stupid fucking psycho bitch. If I was lovesick no matter how bad, I would never do what you did. There are rules. I'm not going to wreck *your* marriage, suck marriage though it may be. This is absolutely my last contact with you. This is absolute and unequivocal. I'm closing your ignominious file today; it's over!

You must realize that after that drunken-ass screaming insane bullshit phone call waking up everyone in the fucking house, I can never trust you again--you crossed the line. I do *like* you and think of you fondly--it's just over. Anyhow, the whole affair was bullshit. I was really going after your pal, Lisa, the psychiatrist. She was the one I was chasing and you kind of interjected yourself. I really hate it, the way you did that and then got all fucking clingy dependent. How was I going to come on to Lisa after that?

Your whole insecure jealousy thing is virtual paranoia. You should take Thorazine or something. I'm serious. So long, pretty baby--and Feliz Navidad. Have a holly jolly Christmas,

As always, I remain your sweet potato,

Xxxxs

Maximilian Schell

P.S. Please delete this e-mail message immediately.

To: CC14

Re: Lisa Knows About Your Tawdry Unnatural Desires

Date Sent: December 26, 1998

I can't believe you told Lisa I was hot for her. Shit! Why did she break up with that asshole? Don't tell me. What else did she tell you? I want to savor every detail. I'm in Oxford, MS. Staying in Faulkner's well-preserved house. Wm. never was much of a screenwriter and I don't know a soul who's read his books. Overrated doncha think?

Love,

Uncle Ho

To: CC14

Re: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas!

Date Sent: December 31, 1998

Look, perhaps I did go too far, but you have to stop making these crazy threats. And calling up Lisa was not a good move. True, I did kiss her, but it was just one of those one-time things. Maybe you should tell her how you called me up at 2 A.M.: "Motherfucker! I hate you, you fucking cocksucker! I don't care if I wake up the whole fucking house--I hate you. You ruined my life!" Tell Lisa that. Tell how you stormed and raged like a fucking maniac. You don't think people in bed next to someone can't hear screaming over a telephone? Jesus! Talk about uncalled for.

Nonetheless I'm slightly sorry. I do have a measure of empathy and compassion. But you knew what I was when you got into it with me. You were forewarned. Now you say you're dicking Seth Holmes, that cornball anesthesiologist? You better watch out. You'll get caught and Bob will slap divorce papers on your ass before you can pull your panties back on. Really. You're a fucking amateur, babe. You don't want a divorce, believe me. So cool your jets. OK? And don't try to track me down again through the studio. My agent informed them never to disclose my whereabouts. Chill! You'll be fine,

Sonny Barger

To: CC14

Re: Oh Yeah! Well You Can Kiss My Ass!

DATE SENT: January 26, 1999

Hey babe, calm the fuck down. I didn't say you were insane per se. It's just a figure of speech. Screwing a new guy? You're playing with fire. Didn't I tell you to watch your ass? Of course Bob *suspects* something. You *changed* your look. You are *never* home. That "on call" bullshit only goes so far. You are violating your pattern and you don't know how obvious it is even to the unthinking dullards of the world. You wanna know something else? The way they really can tell you're fucking somebody? Sex is different, that's how. You can keep the same schedule and so on but it's different. That's the giveaway beyond. But it's not conclusive 11th-hour Perry Mason courtroom testimony. Bob doesn't want to believe it. It's your job to allay his fears. Whatever you do, admit to nothing. Deny it! He isn't going to go anywhere. He's just blowing off steam. It will pass. Just play it cool, OK?

Yours,

Dr. Zarkov

To: CC14

Re: Ace, Man, You Are One Stupid Asshole!

Date Sent: January 29, 1999

Look, if the little Bobcat interrogates you, gets a little rowdy and smashes some furniture, a few priceless antiques--it only means that he loves you. Whatever you do, don't confess and don't knuckle under. I know you're guilty, feel like Hester Prynne and all of that, but don't let it show. For Christ's sake. Just tell him to go fuck himself. He hasn't got aerial photography. It's all paranoid conjecture. The green-eyed monster has got Bobby-boy in its clutches, but cool out. He's a dependent personality. He won't leave you. Guaranteed. You can take that one to the bank.

Hang in,

Xxxs

Ace

To: CC14

Re: He Did It! He Packed the Samsonite and Blew Town!

Date Sent: February 2, 1999

Hey babe, so sue me, I was wrong. But he'll be back. Three days max. And this is your story: You were having a late snack with a colleague after a long shift. That's *all* it was. Perfectly innocent. Give Bob shit for following you. What kind of crap is that, anyhow? Who is this new guy anyhow? You said he was a resident. How old is he? Is he hot?

Zarkov

To: CC14

Re: One Night Stand

Date Sent: February 4, 1999

A one night stand. Right! Well, I told you that you would get caught if you weren't careful--but here's the good news: You weren't really caught! How many times do I have to tell you this? It's like talking to a brick wall. You deny everything. All you were seen doing is having a snack. You weren't holding hands in the restaurant, were you? No. You're just sitting there with stars in your eyes. Well, that's not getting caught, baby. Is this new one a surgeon? How tall is he?

James Douglas Morrison

To: CC14

Re: Jealous

Date Sent: February 7, 1999

No, I am not jealous, and if that's what is motivating this bullshit hanky-panky, you can forget it! What does Lisa think? Are you giving her the blow-by-blow? What kind of shit-for-brains shrink is she, anyhow? Use that high-priced intellect of yours. Be logical.

Meanwhile, I've been getting back into my novel these last few weeks. Novel? Sonnets? Corporate advertisements?--all of these things are preferable to scriptwriting.

Ming of Mongo

To: CC14

RE RE RE: Happy Valentine's Day!

Date Sent: February 14, 1999

Baby, this is ridiculous. I *couldn't* read all your e-mails. You just hit me with the whole Library of Congress! I didn't write back not because you are pathetic but because each time I write back, you fucking flip.

Yours truly,

Captain Torch

P.S. Do not scan photos and send them to me. It's obvious that your new look is an attempt to transform yourself into a second Lisa. You're not her. You looked fine the old way. This new look *is* pathetic. I mean (LOL)--it's not you. Dig? Assemble your senses and quit pulling crap.

To: CC14

Re: Malicious Slander

Date Sent: February 16, 1999

In no way, shape or form do you appear in the book, I swear! And Lisa neither. Jesus, baby! How crass do you think I am?

Xxxs

A

To: CC14

Re: Touching Reunion

Date Sent: February 17, 1999

I told you Bob would come back and (continued on page 206)Little Christmas(continued from page 84) I also told you you would despise him if he did. But look at it like this --you were totally freaked when he walked--a fucking basket case. I don't know how you can be so cool in the ER and such a hysteric in real life. You should take a lesson from Benjamin Franklin and eradicate jealousy from your list of emotions. If you can do that, great deeds await you, babe. As for this resident you're dicking --it's simple infatuation and it will pass. The only way for two people to live happily ever after is for them to get killed in a car crash on their third date. I mean, name the happy couples you know--you can probably count them on one hand. Falling in love is extremely hazardous. Just don't expect anything from people and enjoy them while it lasts. As for Bob--fuck Bob. He's a loser. Divorce him.

Hey, last night I fucked a blonde lawyer. Harvard grad. Patrician. Not bad for a greaseball, huh?

Yrs,

Da Fonz

To: CC14

Re: Nice Reviews, Tiger

Date Sent: February 22, 1999

Yeah: Time, Newsweek, People, USA Today, Boston Globe--all raves. Nielsens are good. Another Emmy? Well, don't be surprised, I won't be. Anyhow, thank you, my dear. One irksome development: Did you see the LA Times review? The script got trashed. Reviewers? Some asshole who wants to be a scriptwriter and can't hack it, pissed off at the whole world. Well, fuck him! I just might go look up the cocksucker and inject a little terror in his life. Or hire some thugs to do it for me.

Yrs,

Wild Bill

To: CC14

Re: Now What Do I Do?

Date Sent: February 28, 1999

Jesus, not another one! Well don't let the resident know. You have to keep your victims isolated. Remember: *You* are the center of the universe and they are mere satellites. Isolate him. Magnetic Seth and the fresh resident must never meet. And yes, it is a wicked web, but you're an energetic little spider. Go out there and repair that web on a daily basis. Keep the victims isolated and keep that net in good repair. Fun, isn't it? I'm proud of you. Just watch out for space debris -- comets, meteor dust and the rusting hulks of Citroën Deux Chevaux.

So we're shooting in Miami this week and it is hotter than a motherfucker. The Diet Pepsis in my bar cabinet are like only ten ounces at four bucks a crack! I can drink five at once. I dunno, I feel guilty drinking $50 worth of soda before lunch. Apart from screwing starlets, what I like best about location shooting is the sound of that room service cart jingling down the hall, you know? The clatter of bone china and the aroma of fresh coffee. Here comes one now. Gotta go.

Xxxs

Richard # III

To: CC14

Re: Bob Thinks I'm Fucking Lisa!

Date Sent: March 4, 1999

LOL--babe, it's better that he thinks you're a dyke, believe me. A whole lot easier on his ego. Personally, I think he just went to the lawyer to blow off steam. He is hurt and he wants to strike back. It's the oldest story in the world. No matter what, he's not going to divorce you. And so what if he does? I don't know why you are so hot for that old house anyhow; it's nothing but work, and you're never there. Get yourself a little fuckpad and pay back your medical school loans. Power to the people, babe. I gotta go.

Eldridge

To: CC14

Re: I *Am* Fucking Lisa!

Date Sent: March 5, 1999

You, a dyke? No way. Jesus, give me a break! Look, I know you're stressed out. These things happen. It doesn't mean you're some hard-core lesbian. Trust me, I know you better than you know yourself. But just the same: My God! Is Lisa a good fuck?

Your partner in crime,

Ace.

P.S. What are the kids at the Foxhead saying about the show?

To: CC14

Re: Three-Way Sex: Are You Up to It, Sport?

Date Sent: March 6, 1999

Whoa! Are you *shitting* me? Yeah! I'm up for it. Boing! Way up! LOL. Señor Caligula is up for most anything. A three-way sounds absolutely great! Tell me though, what are Lisa's tits like? She hasn't got tobacco-brown nipples, has she? That just makes it impossible for me. It ruins everything. She's very fair-skinned, so I doubt this will be a problem. But please advise me at the first possible opportunity.

Ready and Rarin',

Yrs,

Stickman

To: CC14

Re: C cups, Pink Nipples

Date Sent: March 7, 1999

God! C cups! Pink and well formed! I thought so! I thought so! Goddamn. Man! I'm in heaven! Crack out the Viagra. Heh heh. And well formed, too! Boy! Shit. Usually at 30, they start to sag. Well, maybe she had a tit job. Didn't she run with a cosmetic surgeon for a time? Jeez, this sounds too good to be true. I can't wait. Just tell me this: If you two are such dedicated lesbians, why do you want to fuck me? You said she gives you multiple orgasms. I didn't give you multiple orgasms. What's the deal, comrade?

V.I. Lenin

To: CC14

Re: Divorce Papers

Date Sent: March 8, 1999

Babe, you're better off without the sorry-ass motherfucker; good riddance! Bob was nothing but "poor me." Dump him. Put the house on the market and get on with it.

Your loving crisis counselor,

Maynard G. Krebbs

To: CC14

Re: Ovulation

Date Sent: March 9, 1999

I knew there had to be a catch. And I can't believe Lisa, either. How did this plan get hatched? You suddenly want me to knock you both up so you can be single parents? Is Lisa stealing drugs from the meds cabinet? Anesthesiologists will do that--and she hangs with your guy Seth. He's probably got a shit-load of good stuff. Or have you both lost your minds? Flipped out completely? Goddamn! I think those long shifts in the ER are taking their toll on you. Burnout. Get a grip on yourself, woman.

Zamboni, King of the Kongo

To: CC14

Re: Contracts

Date Sent: March 11, 1999

Look, I'm going to be in town one night. Even if by some miracle of chance you're both ovulating, I'm not going to get you both pregnant. It's statistically unlikely. I mean, you're the doctors. Figure. And contract or no, I'm going to know that I've got kids--kids living with lesbian parents. This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard of. I quit screwing physicians a long time ago as most of them are out of touch, fucking psychotic. What if one of you gets pissed and decides to sue for child support? I've been out there too many years to fall for this bullshit. The answer is no!

Sincerely,

Ace

To: CC14

Re: Oh Baby, Please Please Me

Date Sent: March 13, 1999

OK, here are the rules: It has to be all natural. I'm not leaving sperm samples. And remember: Don't let my good looks fool you, writers are crazy. These kids are going to be getting some fucked-up genes. And you are no paragon of mental health either, dear heart. I'm not the one who has to live out the consequences; you are. Think about that. Christ, the whole idea of this reduces me to a piece of meat. It's demeaning. You're audacious, babe. You're coming up in the world. You're like . . . almost totally amoral. Congrats!

Rocky Balboa

To: CC14

Re: Lisa

Date Sent: March 14, 1999

No, I said I could have fallen for Lisa *at that time*. Things change. I'm not--look, in light of what's happened, I'm certainly not going to fall in love with her, OK? As to who gets fucked first, let's just play it by ear. I've got to run, I'm doing a radio interview. San Francisco has so many good places to eat, but try and find a parking spot. It can't be done. LOL.

Yrs,

Frederick J. Flintstone

To: CC14

Re: The Big Day

Date Sent: March 15, 1999

I'm at a computer room over at Stanford killing time before the flight. Four--well, actually three--chicks came on to me in Palo Alto. You know the one about the Polish chick who tried to get ahead by fucking the scriptwriter? LOL. Pure power. Anyhow, I declined some true delectables so I could get back to my room and be well rested for tomorrow night. It made me sick to do it. And then, instead of sleeping--the couple in the next room got into a fight and kept me up all night. Well, I'll do my very best to get the job done.

Love,

Iago

P.S. Give my regards to Lisa. ROFL

To: CC14

Re: Hey There, Big Boy, You Fucked Our Brains Out

Date Sent: March 17, 1999

No, dear heart, the both of you fucked *my* brains out. LOL. That was a fantastic experience. I think it's Darwinian or something when you screw with the intent to have kids. Very affirming. And her tits were even better than advertised. Christ! I came six times. What a glorious night! Thank God we're in Chicago for two days. I gotta catch up on my sleep. I'm all fucked out!

Your boy,

Slick

P.S. I'm sorry I had to leave the party so early. ROFL! Heh heh.

To: CC14

Re: Beware the Ides

Date Sent: March 22, 1999

Shit! Back home with a deadline. That tour took it all out of me. Woe is Aceman. I feel vile and I hate everybody in the entire world including myself. Thank God the season is over

Yrs,

Big Daddy

To: CC14

Re: Bingo!

Date Sent: May 15, 1999

Both on the same day? Well, you were both fucked on the same night; it only makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, in a highly improbable way. Anyhow, congrats (I guess). If Lisa gives up her practice to take care of the kids--I mean *what*? Who is the catcher and who is the pitcher in this deal? I know shrinks don't make that much relative to surgeons but she has a bold personality. I figured she would be assertive in bed. I guess it's none of my business.

Yrs,

Chas. Manson

P.S. Screwing Bob just after I left town was a master stroke. Now you can nail him for child support. Baby, that's cold. Way to go. You are truly dedicated in service to the Master, Lucifer. You may even be due for a promotion soon. I'm sensing real hellish evil in you, dear heart. It's such an adorable quality. Cultivate it.

P.P.S. How can you be so sure he won't ask for a DNA test?

To: CC14

Re: So Horny I Could Die

Date Sent: May 22, 1999

You fucked another young buck! I didn't think you were a dedicated dyke. I never bought that. Just remember, web repair. Use your head. If you are now screwing a hot-piece-of-ass intern on the floor, be very careful. It's a small town and an even smaller hospital. Also, do not change your sex habits with Lisa. If she finds out, the whole shitting deal will go down the drain. A med student is not marriage material, babe. Also, tell me this: Do guys like dating pregnant women? The times they are a changin'. Indeed! Befuddled, I must bring myself up to speed.

Alistair Cooke

To: CC14

Re: Ultrasound Confirms It: Girls

Date Sent: August 5, 1999

Hey, if you guys are happy, I'm happy. I already told you, I don't plan on being an active father. I doubt that I will ever even meet the kids. Don't give me reports. I don't want that kind of involvement. I don't want guilt and I don't want attachment. Seriously,

Joseph Mengele

To: CC14

Re: Caught!

Date Sent: September 4, 1999

Flagrante delicto, huh? At least Lisa was cool about it. Remember how vindictive and pissy Bob was? That this guy is an intern from Salt Lake City is all to the good. Christ, he's not a fucking Mormon, is he? Anyhow, Lisa isn't going to be threatened by a teenybopper. But isolate your victims and maintain web repair. And always remember this: *You* are the center of the universe and *they* are the satellites. If you hold that thought, there is no conquest that is beyond you. Coolio, no?

Ace

To: CC14

Re: Retaliation

Date Sent: September 11, 1999

After the shock wave of betrayal wears off, then comes the anger, babe. Lisa wanted to get even, that's all. I wouldn't make too much of it. And listen: You weren't keeping the web under control, it's your own fault.

Hey! What's the deal anyhow--are guys suddenly into hitting on chicks that are six months pregnant? Maybe I just don't know the score anymore. Even an experienced evildoer such as myself has blind spots and makes mistakes. She'll come crawling back. Don't you worry, baby.

P.S. I just finished a motherfucker of a rewrite job. It was a suck-ass from start to finish. The producer is always saying, "Breathe some life into this piece of shit." I'm not kidding; this is the most nonglamorous profession in the world. I want to get back on the novel.

Johnny Ringo

To: CC14

Re: Encouragement

Date Sent: October 19, 1999

Thanks babe. It was nice to hear from you. I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me anymore. I can't think of a single thing. My skull feels like it's got rancid malted milk balls rolling around inside it. I put my .357 in the attic in case I get the impulse to shoot myself. It takes so long to get into the attic, I'll think better of it before I get to the pistol. Suicide really isn't me in spite of the family history. Maybe that's because I'm just a big chickenshit. Maybe it is the ultimate act of nobility. Yes, given a moment to reflect--a breather from the onslaught of life's travail--and I'm a philosophical individual.

Used and confused,

Algonquin J. Calhoun

To: CC14

Re: Lisa

Date Sent: November 1, 1999

Remember, babe, I actually don't know Lisa all that well. You were the one that said she was a dyke. Maybe because she's pregnant, she has an urge to have a husband suddenly. Honestly, she wasn't that hot of a fuck. I mean, to me it seemed like I was fucking a straight-out man-hating lesbian. Three-ways seldom work. They involve too much tension and jealousy unless everyone is drugged and drunk out of their minds. Or complete degenerates. Anyhow, Lisa wasn't into me all that much and--whatever else you say about me--I'm an experienced lover. Man, then she stands on her head after I came in her. That was kind of strange, no? She must really want a kid to let my greasy lips press against her own. She wouldn't French. But standing on her head? I thought I had seen it all until that one. Don't get jealous again. (Read a Ben Franklin book and eradicate that emotion from your personality.) Personally, my guess is that this is a temporary thing with her. Most men don't want to marry a woman carrying some other guy's kid, you know? This guy will get sick of her, I'm sure of it. Anyhow, keep me informed. If I didn't have such high self-esteem and such supreme confidence, she would have made me feel like a reptile. So, fuck her.

Satan

To: CC14

Re: Tears on My Pillow

Date Sent: November 3, 1999

Heh heh! I told you she was a dyke! She was just getting even with you and it got out of hand. That is why it is so essential that you care for and maintain the wicked web on a daily basis. Lisa is just a satellite. So don't act overly thrilled because she cried her heart out to you. Show some frost.

Yrs,

Duke

P.S. How did you give her seven orgasms? I mean are you a couple of Chinese acrobats all of a sudden? Do you use vibrators? Butt plugs? Oral sex with Altoids? *What?* Let me mention one other thing: I don't want to introduce negatives but consider this with an open mind: You are not a dyke. Not really. Once the motherhood thing becomes routine, don't be surprised if you find yourself pining over some guy. And if that happens, act with restraint. Ignore the mood swings and whatnot. You must always let the head rule above the dictates of the heart if you want to play this game. Concerned,

Earl, the Duke of

To: CC14

Re: Any Day Now

Date Sent: December 15, 1999

The ninth month is *supposed* to suck. Quit your goddamn fucking bitching. Hey, check it out--I think I finally found the right voice for this fucking novel. *Finally!*

A

To: CC14

Re: Good on Ya, Spote!

Date Sent: December 16, 1999

Thanks, babe. I *am* a sportin' man. No doubt about it. And I'm really into this novel. The work. It's all about the *work*. The rest is bullshit. Man, I feel great: This is the best part. The part I really like. My fingers are scorching the keyboard. I'm just a fucking conduit now. All the angst is gone. My mind is clicking at levels unsurpassed. You might say I'm experiencing my personal best. But, really, I'm humble. I take no credit. It all comes from the Holy Spirit and all the credit belongs to God. That's no lie. Praised be his name! I'm just his servant. But shit, I wrote 12,000 words last night. Fucking great stuff, too. Man! I am a genius! Over and Out!

Slim

To: CC14

Re: Hannah Marie

Date Sent: December 21, 1999

Lisa got what she wanted. And your turn is coming. Shit, I can't believe she cursed *me* through labor. I thought that Lamaze shit was a fad from the Eighties or something. When it's your turn, I advise you to avail yourself of painkillers, or get a spinal block. Why suffer needlessly?

Yrs,

Dukester

P.S. Do not tell me the kid's name. I don't want to know names, remember? That was part of the deal. Don't start violating rules this early in the game. I know you're a woman and have poor impulse control, but don't fucking do it. I'm serious.

Duke

To: CC14

Re: 19,000 Words

Date Sent: December 22, 1999

Hey, I'm a genius, what more can I tell you? Not only that, I've got myself a new little baby--you know, a "baby." LOL. She's cute as hell. When I feel this good I have so much confidence I can pick them up in supermarkets, take them home and fuck them on the floor while the ice cream melts in the grocery bag. Heh heh. Nookie. To get it, you will tell any lie, do whatever--the feeling of power is so incredible. I'm totally stoked. I have never been so happy in all my life. It's like the veil has been lifted and I can suddenly see. Life is grand, babe! I'm a happy fucking guy.

Yrs,

Hanoi Harry

To: CC14

Re: New Babies

Date Sent: December: 23, 1999

Hey, babe. *Pissy*? Don't get that way. It's just pussy. I told you that our three-way in Iowa City was all about you. Lisa was a flop. You were the one. You were the star. This new stuff is just fool's play. A diversion. Frivolous folly.

Those ugly things I said a year ago when you got crazy on me were in self-defense. They were calculated to bring you to your senses. I didn't "mean" any of it. The sex we had before you freaked out was incredible. We did it like every night for six months and never missed a night, as I recall. Are those the actions of a guy who wasn't turned on? Of a guy who wasn't absolutely crazy about you? Come on. Follow the inspiration of Buddha and waketh thou up!

Kung Fuck

P.S. Can't they induce labor? How overdue are you?

To: CC14

Re: 10 lbs. 9 ounces

Date Sent: December 28, 1999

Hurrah! It's over. Cesarean, huh? And on Christmas day yet. I'm sorry it was so long, and you had to go through pain and all, but being born on Christmas has to be an upper. She will one day piss and moan because of the presents all coming on the same day, but secretly, she'll be grateful. It's a very good omen, if you ask me. Congrats, doll. I hope this makes you happy.

Yrs,

Stagger Adam Lee Huxtable

P.S. Did you get the check? I know you're too proud to ask but I got all this advance money for the new season--for once I've got *too much* money and since you don't, I wanted you to have it. You shouldn't go back to work until you are strong again, and you shouldn't pull such long shifts anymore. You have to learn how to take better care of yourself now. Pace yourself. I read that a doctor has a life expectancy of 60 because of the hours they put in. Also, take note: You already know this, I'm sure, but babies that weigh over ten pounds often become diabetic. I don't want to sound like a worrywart, but feed this kid sushi and don't let either one of the girls get into junk food when they turn four and see all the other kids wolfing it down. I'm really happy for all of you. Really am. Thanks for not telling me the name. I have to go my own way and I don't want to know the name. Thanks for respecting that.

P.S. You didn't name her LaDonna or Chandelle or some shit like that, did you? ROFL.

P.P.S. My own baby (the novel) is now three-quarters finished. I've got the voice down and the characters have taken on a life of their own. I'll just see where it leads. It's great fun, only they don't like to print fat books anymore because of the paper costs. Well, it's too good not to print. I've gotten so high on this goddamn book that I know soon I'm going to get exactly that low. It's some kind of universal law. I mean, with the baby--you have hope and joy. You have unconditional love looking at you. What a great Christmas present, huh? I was secretly regretting this whole thing until I got your message today. Now I'm truly glad. I had a rare unselfish moment. Careful there, Ace. The next thing you know, you be volunteering at soup kitchens. LOL.

Yours, the one and the only,

Aceman

P.S. What actually did you name her? Forget what I said about not wanting to know; I want to know.

To: CC14

Subject: Love You Madly, Need You Badly

Date Sent: December 31, 1999

Dear Carol,

Why aren't you answering my messages? Did your computer crash with the millennium bug? Total cataclysm isn't supposed to happen until tomorrow. Are you OK? What's going on? Your phone number, I see, is hereby unlisted. I called the goddamn hospital--I even called Bob, who refuses to spill. Does he know that we fucked seven ways till Sunday? Did you meet some new guy? Why are you hiding from me? I can't really, in all modesty, imagine you met a *neater* guy than me. So what the fuck is going on? Do I have to fucking drive to Iowa City and hunt you down? Christ, baby, you're making me crazy! So what is up?

Don't think I failed to sense a shift coming. Actually, I expected you to pull some shit like this.

I know you, and I know your nature. You will be crawling back on your hands and knees. And that's what really frosts me. Because as I write this, I'm disgusted with you. In two weeks, I will have forgotten that you ever existed. And when you see yourself in my book, when you see how deftly I captured your pathetic essence--then, dear heart, you will be the one who is devastated, humiliated and utterly destroyed! You will suffer agonies that you have never imagined--you thought last time was "excruciating"? Baby, you don't even know the meaning of the word. You are one stupid fucking bitch! And you'll find there's *nothing* you can hit me with. My wife *read* the book; she knows my proclivities all too well. You cannot get back at me this time. I am the victor. In two mere weeks--14 days--(that's right sugar pie, the clock is already running) you will be nothing but a long-forgotten memory. I won't know you anymore. Two short weeks and you are forever dead to me. I've got better things to worry about than your sorry ass. The "novel," if you dare read it, will fill you with impotent rage. I held back nothing. Slap your $24.95 on the table. This whole thing was a setup, a hustle: Lisa, the babies--everything. You may ask yourself why? Why am I such an evil cocksucking bastard? That's a fair question, dear heart, and the answer is this: Even I don't know the true extent of my evil genius. I just am and I revel in what I am. You want to escape notoriety when it hits the best-seller list, move to Albania or whatever. That's right, go ahead--feel free and just have yourself a happy little New Year's. You know something, Carol? I hate you and you can suck my motherfucking dick.

As always, I remain your obliged humble servant,

Farouk, King of the Assholes