Dear Flint

[footfootfoot]

DanaC: I'm writing to Flint, see what you think, OK? "Dear Flint..."
Monster: Yeah?
DanaC: Well, that's it. I'm quite pleased with it so far.
Monster: Oh, well, it's a strong opening, certainly.
Infinite Monkey: I don't like the "dear". Sounds a bit too much like "will you go to bed with me?"
DanaC: Nicely spotted, Infinite Monkey. What do you think instead?
Infinite Monkey: What about "darling"?
DanaC: "Darling Flint..."
Lookout123: Oh, no, no, no, no! Not "Flint". It's far too crawly bum-lick. Tell it like it is, put "fascist bully boy".
DanaC: "Darling fascist bully boy..."
Monster: That's nice, yeah, so far so good, so what do you want to say?
DanaC: Well, basically I want to ask him if I can have, like, an extension on my overdraft, but I know there must be a better way of putting it than that.
Monster: Well, what about, "give me some more money"?
Infinite Monkey: "You bastard"
DanaC: Don't you think that's a bit strong?
Monster: No, DanaC, people like that respect strength.
DanaC: Yeah, you're right. "Darling fascist bully boy, give me some more money, you bastard..." Uh... "Love, DanaC."
Infinite Monkey: Not "love, DanaC"! That sounds far too much like "come and get it like a bitch-funky sex machine".
DanaC: Yeah, you're right. Uh... What about "yours sincerely"?
Lookout123: Oh, come off it, DanaC! If you're going to be that sycophantic, why don't you go there now and stick your tongue straight down the back of his trousers?
DanaC: Oh, look, I know, I know, why not put "boomshanka"?
Monster: Ahh... that's hard to tell, DanaC. What does it mean?
DanaC: It means "may the seed of your loin be fruitful in the belly of your woman".
Lookout123: Ah-ha! And WHAT makes you think your Flint's a man?
DanaC: His beard.
Monster: He'll never understand "boomshanka". You'll have to write the whole thing out.
DanaC: Right, okay, here we go. "Darling fascist bully boy, give me some more money, you bastard. May the seed of your loin be fruitful in the belly of your woman, DanaC."
Lookout123: Well, if that doesn't work, I don't know what will.
Monster: The only problem is we're running out of fuel. [scrunches the letter up and hands it to Infinite Monkey] IM, chuck it on the fire. [Infinite Monkey does so and all four scramble toward the fire, trying to get warm]