Monday, March 7, 2011

Mort, A Victim of Circumstance

Dear Mort,

It's been some time since I last wrote, and I apologize for not being a better friend. It's amazing how life always seems to get busier and busier. As I was sitting in my study today, it occurred to me that I have yet to formally apologize to you for that time I shot you in the leg. I'm sorry. I really mean that. I do not, of course, mean that I feel any regret about my actions. I still believe I made the right decision, but I am sorry that it had to happen. I am very sorry that you felt it was necessary to continue tickling me when I strongly asked you to stop. I know you thought it was funny, surely, I understand your point of view here... but I could barely breathe. If I had not happened to be packing heat at the time or been quick enough on the trigger, I may have suffocated. And that's not a laughing matter. You should know better. We're two grown men. I gave up tickling other men years ago. That said, I do so wish you would return my calls. It seems that the only person I can get a hold of in your family is your brother-in-law, the attorney. In fact, he keeps calling me. I don't really know him well at all, though, and I am not actively looking for new friends. So if you see him any time in the near future, you can tell him I don't care much for his attempts at fraternization and he can stop calling.

Your old friend,



  1. Uh, by Mort and James do you mean Harry Whittington and Dick Cheney?

  2. We can only hope that Mort's limp will be a constant reminder that no means no.