Spam Mail

Dear Spam,

I don’t know what I did to make you turn away from me, but whatever it was …. I’m sorry. …..

What’s she doing?

Writing a letter to spam.

Why?

It up and left her. Now they are going to Bebo’s inbox.

Really? That hussy.

Remember those wonderful days full of dicks that could chop firewood? The halcyon days of where it was as tall as the Eiffel Tower? Or as long as the distance between New York and Los Angeles?

What’s halcyon?

I think it’s one of those psychedelic words.

She on drugs?

Obviously. She’s writing to spam, isn’t she?

Was it the alarm clocks? Did I take too many? What if I gave you a map to where they are all buried?

No Bailey!! Don’t confess!!!

Sgt. Preston is gonna come and get you ….

Or those men in the white coats.

Waiters?

I wish you would tell me what I did. Bebo can’t give you what I can, she won’t make you famous, er, infamous, or whatever. She’ll never appreciate you the way I do.

This is embarrassing. She’s begging spam.

Not as embarrassing as talking to something that isn’t real.

Ernie? We’re not real.

We’re not?

For the hundredth time moron, no. We’re figments of her imagination.

You mean, like spam?

Not exactly. You see, spam is real.

Spam is real and we’re not?

I know, it’s scary isn’t it?

I don’t know if this will reach you or not, but I wanted to give it a try. I need you spam, I need your misspelled words, your bad grammar, your completely insane logic. I even need your out of proportion body parts. Leave Bebo and come back to me.

Shane!!!

Spam has a name?

No, that’s a movie quote.

Bailey is talking to spam and you’re quoting movies?

Like it’s really going to make any difference, considering that she’s writing a letter to someone in Taiwan?

You have a point.

Please come back to me.

Sincerely,
Bailey Stewart

And Bud.

What?

I miss spam too.

Oh, what the heck. And Ernie too.