Sewing Chaos and Discord

An open letter to one Mr. Roving Jack:

I have sewn Chaos (or Discord. I think perhaps it's Discord. I should ask it.) "Discord" is sitting on my book shelf waiting to be introduced to you come our next Saturday night gathering. There are 'others' waiting in my mind to be expressed as another little cloth effigy. The biggest nuisance was trying to find the little plastic pellets to stuff it into three dimensions.

Ha... I may take up a Deviant Art account yet...

Thine Eye... Mein Pickleforken

And so we meet again my friend. Again, again, again... Last time we spoke, your words were as pleasurable as a cheese grater rubbed on road rash with lemon juice. How it brings joy to my eyes! I feel myself swoon. Imagine my surprise and elation to see you peering from your car at me. Your bright blue eyes like great saucery moons of twin hatred. I sense a certain amount of resentment aimed at me from your general direction. Come now... How hurt I feel that you would choose to feel this way about your dearest new friend! I cry myself to sleep a thousand times to learn that you do not like me.

Oh weep and lament!! My heart seeps with untold animousity. My soul tears into a thousand sad little faces that you should be angry at me... because I wouldn't give you an employee discount at my drive-thru. Can you ever forgive me blessed peach of the sun?? Would it help if I whipped myself soundly? Oh dastardly days! I know that it matters not to you that you do not actually find employment within my establishment. And perhaps you believe that by wearing your work hat I shall be impressed. Oddly... upon contemplation I am not impressed. I only find myself entertaining thoughts of pickleforks and your twin moons of hatred.

I smile with smug enthusiasm in your direction and utter the most important phrase in history "Bring it on."