I sat by my window and smoked some weed. Ah, it was good weed indeed, and I was feeling mighty pleased. It was a good day, the kind I have not seen in a long while.
The smoke danced in the sunlight, and I could swear that little sparkles played in the sunlight.
“Ah”, I sighed. “What a beautiful day for mischief” Just then, an envelope floated through The Holy Smoke and landed on my table. A large ‘N’ was emblazoned at the top left hand corner, on the front of the envelope. Golden and stylish, in the Elizabethan style, it sat there and looked at me.
“A letter, a letter from my dear old Isaac. What has he been up to? It has been a while since we both smoked and chatted, and I do love our jokes – especially the ones about Gravity forsaking him”.
I opened it, and a beautiful perfume made its way to my nostrils. “This is not from Isaac. It must be from one of his descendants”.
“Darling Loki”, it started.
“Now, that is a fine way to start a letter”, I thought to myself, a smile spreading across my face.
“Darling Loki”. I paused to savour the words.
You are a schmuck and a weasel. What’s more, you seem to be very proud of yourself….”
I stopped and stared. This was not the continuation I had hoped for, or expected.
“You claim that this is The Saga of Mary Jane, but where is she? What have you done to her, and that absolute peach, Harley Quinn? I don’t care for Poison Ivy at all, so I really don’t know why she is hanging on in the story. Neither do I care for The Bat, Spidey and The Joker. Yet, out of politeness, I must ask – what have you done with them?”
The letter went on in the same vein, calling me all sorts of names, and cursing me for taking care of Mary Jane and Harley Quinn. The letter spoke about my passion for secrets, and then went on to call me an awful old codger for keeping my secrets.
The letter ended:
I was apoplectic. Rage suffused my face, and I flung the letter to the ground. “Yours sincerely?”
What about, “Yours lovingly?”
I paced the room and smoked feverishly. Smoke filled the room, and I inhaled the Holy Vapours. At long last, I calmed down.
“Oh, Esther, Esther, Esther,” I thought to myself. “Now, wouldn’t you like to know what is happening to your little darlings? You would like me to reveal my secrets, and know what I am doing to them, yes? You would like to know when I will release them, yes?”
Oh, Esther, Esther, Esther. The secrets will be revealed, in little dribbles and drabbles of blood and pain.
Patience, my dear, patience. Don’t fret your pretty head, my dear. All will be revealed in time.
An evil smile spread across my face, as I sat there, and the faraway look in my eyes pierced the veil of smoke that hung across the room.