Dear Mr. Clement and Mr. McKenzie:
I am writing to you because we, at our office, need your help.
One of the girls here has formed an obsession with you (the both of you we think, but she has never specified really) and your musical antics. She has taken to describing the plots of your television program in detail, to sending clips of the two of you in funny situations, to laughing hysterically at the mention of either of your names.
She has also formed the annoying habit of walking through a room saying, “I’m the hiphopapotamus, my rhymes are bottomless..............” and leaving it open at the end so that we are all left waiting for the next line that never comes. IT NEVER COMES!
Please help us.
I was going to send her a copy but decided that she would more than likely send me to Jesus. As soon as I get a response (and I fully expect to), I'll then let her know what I've done.
She'll probably still send me to Jesus.
But at least it will be funny.