MY DEAR EX-WIFE,

In all likelihood you will most willingly take me to court for not including your monthly alimony check in the confines of this envelope, but luckily I have a missing automobile along with an enchanted story to enlighten you with that will explain to you, not only why I am encompassing this story to you with a letter, in place of an email or text, but also why the check that usually would be in the place of this explanation is now somewhere in the backwoods of an untraveled dirt road.
As you are quite aware I had a conference a few towns over which I planned to drive to and from in the span of a few days. I left the conference later than I imagined I would, and knowing that if I didn’t continue my voyage home, through the night, I would not make it on time to work on Monday or have a spared moment to drop your money off at the post, I made the decision to drive on the back roads through the entire night.
This is where, on that frozen night, in the backwoods of that unwandered road, I gazed upon a beast so foul, that if I had taken a picture of it, it would have gotten a lot of re-twits on Twitter. But before I describe this monstrous beast to you, I must explain how I came to be in such a situation where I was able to look upon the abomination at fault for the loss of your alimony check.
It was nearly one in the morning and the air outside was heavy and dark. One of my tires happened to burst, due to the unfortunate condition of my automobile, sending me off the road into a ditch. Of course realizing that I was in quite a jam, I attempted to phone the gentleman of the insurance company, but my cell phone was vacant of life, the cat videos that had earlier entertained me, at fault. Quite anxious that I would be stuck till dawn, I proceeded to climb from the car and inspect whether the damage to the automobile was fixable. But given that I am an individual of status and not one of those low down, smudged up “mechanical” persons, I knew it would be quite improbable for me to attempt the changing of this punctured tire.
Frustrated that I was most likely going to be unaccounted for at the weekly “Doughnut Day” that occurs every Monday, at my work, I proceeded to turn and prop my exhaustion up against the thoroughly maimed automobile. Though I had not noticed it before that moment, I had come to be stranded across from a large expense of land, followed by at least a dozen black hills that rose up to touch the bottom of a large, full, white moon that hung like a circular crack in the midnight sky. It was by the beams of this moon that I was able to gaze upon the shadow of an inhumanly large beast that slumped on top the hill.

Believing that I had happened upon a near-by villager who would offer some type of assistance, I raised my hand in a greeting gesture. The beast began to descend down the hill with inhuman speed. I thought nothing of it, figuring that the gentleman had mistaken my subtle wave as a gesture of immediate rescue and was hurrying to my aid. But as he began to leap across the moonlit field, I noticed some peculiar features of my intended savior. By the light of the moon I was able to see that his eyes gleamed an unnatural yellow against the flapping pieces of his skin that mirrored that of a tan balloon a child had attempted to paper mâché.


As the thing got closer, I realized this was no gentleman, or villager or human for that matter, this was a monster and it was still galloping towards me, a crooked grin curling up the sides of his face.
I turned my back to the yellow-eyed daemon, as it tore across the road, and I began to rip open the door of the automobile to seek shelter from the monster in the confines of my driver seat. The door was just slightly ajar, when I felt the bulky arms of the beast encircle my waist, and suddenly I was catapulting through the air, for the monster had thrown me up into the night sky. I landed on the opposite side of the road, my vision skewed by the fall.
As the dust settled round my broken form, the blurriness that was glazed over my sight, dissolved, and I was able to look upon the creature’s deformities as he watched me struggle on the ground like a worm. He must have towered two feet taller than I, with a head circumference that paralleled that of a basketball, and shoulders that spanned the width of an eagle’s wings. The white Calvin and Klein t-shirt he donned squeezed his chest and arms so tightly, his shapely muscles bulged even larger.. His ripped jeans barely fit, reaching down to his protuberant, discolored calves, followed by his gargantuan bare feet.



As I peered into the abomination of his face, he gave me another terrible grin. He then proceeded to crunch his body down and climb into the driver seat of my automobile. In horror I realized that I had left the keys in the automobile, when I had vacated it to inspect the damage. That is also when the thought that he would not be able to drive off with the popped tire, suddenly made me hopeful. I was gravely mistaken. I leaped to my feet almost toppling over from dizziness, and attempted to run towards my beast occupied automobile, but before I could even get within a few feet of it, the daemon started the automobile and somehow, with that punctured tire drove out of the ditch and into the blackened road ahead, with my dead cell phone, the check, and many other items quite precious to me.


Now I know what must be running through your head now my dear, how did I leave that forsaken road to give this letter to post so it could be mailed to you? Well, after walking for the majority of the night, two gentlemen in a truck, happened upon me and agreed to give me a ride to the next town over where I phoned an acquaintance to drive me home. I did not make it to work till Tuesday, where I was thoroughly lectured by my superiors for my absence. Also, Given that my check book was in the automobile as well as my wallet I was not able to re-write a check or make an attempt to with draw money from the bank without my identification. I am deeply sorry for this delay, and will hopefully be able to send you your money within the coming weeks. I do hope that this letter explains all your thoughts and questions, and that you do not take me to court like last time.

Your disgruntle ex-husband,
PARKER BENJAMIN SHELLION