Dear Mun . . .

You actually... posted it. Wow. Well, color me surprised here. Took you long enough, and if I'm being honest--scratch that, I'm always honest. It's how you like me best. Even if you don't? Too bad.

Anyway, I'd pretty much considered it a dead... thing. A document that'd never be finished. It'd just sit there and collect electronic dust as you forgot about it, moved on, and found some other muse to entertain your whims.

I'm not worried at all. You'll likely have a long wait, and let's not forget the muse you brought there that lasted, what, a couple of days? Your absurd interest in me won't last nearly as long. I'm sure of it.

And while we're here, need I remind you that you were so kind as to give me sensitive hearing? Please turn off that horrid noise you define as "music". I really don't appreciate certain songs being played seven times in a row.

Between the name and the loathsome layout selection, I have to ask: did you think that was funny, are you just that stupid?

This is unacceptable. I have much more important things to deal with than entertaining your thoughts. Unclean thoughts, at that! No, I won't even acknowledge them further. Already I want to take an hour-long hot shower just to scrub them away. Oh, for heaven's sake, just the mention of a shower and you think--no, never mind, just stop.

And no, a diamond collar will not make up for it. I'll have you know I am a well-respected scientist, a wealthy businessman at that, and I will not put up with this abuse for much longer.