My love, I write to inform you that my return to you might well prove to be delayed by some indeterminable passage of time. It shan’t be long until the two of us can reunite, but before we do, I must retrieve my firearm. There is a matter I had intended to safeguard as the profoundest secret until I should reach the end of my years, but it regrettably proves that I must involve you in this affair.
You are not indicating to me that you are the one who shot Charlie Kirk, are you?
Let me state in no ambiguous terms that I indeed am. I apologize profusely for any vexatious consequences this might occasion for you, my sweeting.
I thought the police had apprehended a suspect.
Yes, dear one, to a superficial outward view that might seem to have been the case; however, the person they apprehended in fact has no connection with the shooting whatsoever. Moreover, a second person fell under their suspicion simply because he was appareled in clothing similar to my own. I had planned to retrieve the weapon with which—again let me state clearly—I carried out the murder of Charlie Kirk from my drop point shortly thereupon, but most of that side of town was under surveillance. It is quiet—almost, one might say, quiet enough for a person to make an escape, but there is one vehicle lingering.
Why?
Why did I commit the murder of Charlie Kirk? Is that what you are asking?
Yes.
I had come to have my fill—yea, to the point of oversaturation—of the man’s animosity. There are some occasions on which negotiation is of no avail. If I am able to grab my rifle unseen, I will have left no evidence. I am setting forth to retrieve it again, in the hope that law enforcement might have vacated the area. The news has not informed me that the murder weapon has been located.
How long have you been deliberately premeditating this heinous crime?
To the best of my recollection, inamorata, for approximately one half of a fortnight. I believe I can get close to the weapon, although a vehicle belonging to law enforcement idles nearby.
I now find myself in the position of regretting that I had not, previously, through a circuitous perambulation, retrieved the weapon that I employed in the murder of Charlie Kirk.
That firearm, belonging as it did to my forebearers, will be of particular interest to my father (or “old man,” as a person of that familial relation has not in common parlance been denominated for well-nigh fifty years).
Let me also take this as the occasion, though completely unprompted, to indicate to you that the public might soon come to be bewildered by a set of engravings on the munitions I employed. My motivation in so inscribing the items in question was simply so that I could find amusement in those commenting on the matter being compelled to employ an idiom unfamiliar to them.
Since you and I have had no previous occasion to discuss this matter, I want to say to you that, dating from the election of our current president, my father has been wildly enamored of the man. I just suddenly desired to communicate that to you, a propos of nothing at all.
It is good that we have thus spoken to one another in an manner that is perfectly natural for individuals of our era who have reached that stage of maturation to which the two of us have arrived. All of my concerns center on you, dearest.
On the contrary, I am stricken with the profoundest apprehension on your behalf.
If you are questioned by law enforcement, secure an attorney.