Just checking in on you. I heard about the beating you took from Greg Freeman the other night at Spaceport. That really sucks a bone; let me know how I can help, if at all. I remember how I felt after you put me in my place a few weeks ago -- all the fantastical thoughts of revenge one has after they suffer such ultraviolence -- so I know what you’re going through.
I wanted you to know in your convalescence that our little venture is booming! They put some real crowd pleasing pictures on at Alvin’s last night, so I was able to sell plenty of stock on the secret menu to a crowd of, shall we say, “open-ended” tastes. After doing this a few weeks, it doesn’t look like Mr. Chocolate’s gonna catch on, and I’m finally netting a nice profit even after I give 70 percent over to you!
One minor quibble: I fear that Bobby Lay is close to finding out that we are the ones profiting from the documentary evidence of his tryst with Ms. Cummings, and when he DOES find out, I’m afraid I might get my ass kicked. I feel it may be wise to discontinue this merchandise; maybe you can bring your camera out of storage and we can perhaps capture another rendezvous that doesn’t have so much ”muscle” behind it. This can take place, of course, after you lick your wounds.
Just a thought. Cheers!