TO: The Mayor
FROM: Your Secretary
Dear Mr. Mayor,
Yes, you with the weird suit. The phones are not working. Every time I pick up the phone, I hear a thousand animals roaring. I don’t know if my wife is still alive or not. Do something about it.
I have no idea what you’re up to, but whatever it is looks fishy to me. In my twenty-year career as secretary to the mayor, I have never seen crazy-eyed monks walking the hallways like they have been today. Could you tell them to stop with the bloody chanting? It’s getting on my tits.
By the way, this voluptuous woman dressed in armour came with this winged horse. She left a message for you: ‘The underworld troops are ready. The Hero is scheduled to reach by midnight.’ The winged horse left a message too: ‘Get on with it.’
Also, I need to bill you for earplugs for the entire department. We don’t know what you do in there, but it sounds suspiciously like torture.
Also, when I told you that I wouldn’t be back to work tomorrow, you laughed maliciously. It was hurtful of you and I would like an apology. I would quit, but as you apparently believe, there isn’t going to be a tomorrow.
Finally, on a personal note: When I inquired about you talking to yourself, you said you were talking to god, who is, as you put it, your ‘boss and master’. I know a good psychiatrist. Would you like me to set up an appointment?