My dearest and onliest father,
I hope this letter finds you quite well and also I hope it finds that you have gotten rid of your dog’s and brought home cats to replace them. Before it’s too late…
On the eve of Christmas, I found a disembodied deer antler the dogs had been gnawing on. Presumably they were sharpening their teeth in preparation for eating us humans as their Yuletide Feast. Any critter cute and sweet as them rascally doggies of ours must be harboring some dark secret– Ulterior motives which shall not ever be known if they eat us and convert us into fetid bacteria-laden land mines.
These dog creatures who speak a strange language and perform strange rituals which look cute and are often hilarious, but in reality they are surely enacting these rituals such as “tail-chasing” and “waving” and “rolling around” and the infamous “dragging their butts across carpets” (we assume their rumps are just itchy but the reality is that they’re sexual deviants, perverted beyond anything a mere mortal can imagine. Not even people like Traci Lords or Jeffrey Dahmer could comprehend such twisted things as what these beasts are up to)!
It is all in the works of some arcane magick and the appeasing of some sinister force of such great malevolence that it shall spell the inevitable doom of the human species! The least fortunate are being enslaved already, but it will get much worse as time progresses. The most fortunate will be eaten alive by vicious gangs of canines and then given as an offering from the oppsosite end of these terrible creatures to the ancient Canine Overlords from the heretofore unknown 16th circle of HELL!
I know what you’re thinking, my dear father. You’re thinking your poor daughter has finally gone hopelessly mad and is in the throes of being consumed by ridiculous nonsensical delusions! Mayhaps, by now, you’re already dialing the white coats to come for me with large syringes filled with the maximum dosage of Thoridazine in addition to some secondary tranquilizer reserved for raging rhinoceroses who have begun attacking their handlers at zoos! Or maybe whatever they use on those lions who are forced to take photos with tourists in that one country. I forget the name of the country but it is populated by people who are often seen slowly pulling guinea worms from their feet very nonchalantly. They have the patience that even saints are not capable of. That country. Google God may know it’s proper name. Ask Google.
But I tell you now, father, that I am not delusional. I haven’t even dropped acid in approximately 20 hours. I ran out of mescaline 2 weeks ago. I lost my last vial of adrenachrome during a high speed chase I led the entire local police force on after I borrowed one of their cruisers because I needed transportation to the nearest powwow in which Peyote tribe was participating in. I threw the vial out the window because it was the only possible projectile I had and I had hoped it might momentarily stun them when something hit windshield with just enough force to crack it. With some really cool but dangerous maneuvers I was able to evade them and torch the cruiser and escape on the back of my spirit leopard. Spirit leopards are much faster than normal leopards. So fast, in fact, the g-force nearly ripped my face right off.
And now, I am sending you this warning. You and grandma and my dear uncles have a been magickally enslaved by your beloved “furbabies”! Your only hope of freedom is to train your cats for battle! You need battle cats! Only the Sacred Army of the Felines can save you! And all of humanity! And I know it is all true! Because I just now made it all up! Beware! Abandon all hope, ye who adore doggies!
Make me proud! Next time I see you, I expect you each to have a hoard of battle cats who could take out even an army as great as the Spartans supposedly were! You will find, also, that battle cats were exactly just what you needed when that rotten land-wrecking, earthquake-triggering pack of jackals known as the “gas company” came out and knocked all those trees down and refused to pay for damages! They ruined the creek! And they didn’t find the gas! What good are they?! They’re good enough to feed a pack of hungry battle cats. It’s true you can Google this, father.