Dear Phoebe Cates,
I’m going to just throw this out there: I’m madly in love with you. I have been ever since you killed all those Gremlins in that bar you worked at. Then I saw your glistening, perfect breasts in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, and I knew what it was to be a man at the tender age of five. Want proof? I was the only kindergartner with pubes, as confirmed by my teacher, Mrs. Welner.
I had to censor The Greatest Image of All Time, so I used the only thing that even comes close to the glory of Phoebe’s jahoobies. The Megapowers.
Now, I bet you’re wondering why you should even consider a nearly-anonymous Nakatomi Inc. correspondent as a potential paramour. It’s simple, really. I’d devote my entire life to making you the happiest former teen starlet that has ever lived. Judging by the number of you that stay in the limelight into your forties, that probably won’t even be that difficult. Whatever happened to Tatum O’Neal, by the way?
Sorry, Tatum. Loved you in Little Darlings, but there’s only room for one true love in my life.
Looking for a rarity for your Manhattan boutique? I will be Blue Tree’s very own Indiana Jones. I’ll fight Nazis for any trinket you desire… and I’d never throw your prize to Alfred Molina.
There is no way in hell you’re getting Phoebe’s vintage Judith Leiber Minaudiere Purse, Doctor Octopus. No way.
Or maybe you’d like to travel the world. Not only would I take you anywhere you wanted to go, but we would travel by horseback. It’s romantic, right? Wouldn’t a lovely Sunday gallop to Egypt be enchanting? And if you don’t like horses, you can just throw the saddle on me. Yes, I will be your personal pack mule. Just fill the feedbag with oats, and we’ll see the world!
I can be your Centaur, and you can be my not-fat Godiva.
Need someone killed? Consider Fred Dropped Dead.
I can’t tell you how difficult it is to masturbate to this movie when this guy keeps popping up.
We can celebrate the holidays together. Oh, ouch. Sorry, I forgot. We’ll skip Christmas.
Maybe we can celebrate Kwanzaa instead?
I’ll be your own personal genie, ready to grant your every wish, desire, or kinky sexual fantasy.
Jambi is not afraid of the mekka-lekka-hi-meka-heiney-hole.
And I almost hate to bring it up, but the most compelling reason to fall in love with me is that I’m not Methuselah.
Before you chastise me, remember Wild Wild West.
Kevin Kline? I get he’s funny… but so am I, only without ancient tackle! Prefer your humor wry? I’ll watch a Fawlty Towers marathon, I promise. I know it’s terrible to want to break up the only Hollywood marriage to last longer than the American version of Coupling, but think of it as saving you from the inevitable. I know things are looking good right now with a successful business, beautiful and talented children, and a husband who is celebrated around the world for his versatile acting, but… come on! He’s so OLD!
Don’t you want a virile young buck that’s as much your junior as you are Kline’s mustache? And don’t worry about that whole age difference when it comes to me, Phoebe. I’ll always love you. I’ve harbored this obse… devotion to you for twenty-five years now. I’m yours to ride into the sunset. Seriously, I’ve got a saddle and a riding crop.
So, please consider it. We can take it slow at first. Some discreet meetings, maybe in the business district where the electric/brainy/bat-winged/transgendered Gremlins 2 troubled you and Zach Whoever. Who knows, maybe something magical will happen.
If you don’t know who this is, Doug Henning is the reason there is magic in this world… and why everyone that was alive in the 70s and early 80s is at least 3% gay.
Yours forever,
Thunderlips
P.S. – I have a Black Belt in the ancient art of cunnilingus.
Things I learned while writing this:
-There is a forum for people that love purses.
-Tatum O’Neal was busted in a crack deal in 2008. Oh, so THAT’S what happened to her. Oops.
-There is a disturbing amount of centaur porn on the internet.
-A search for Frazetta will never let you down.
-Kevin Kline won the Juvenile Diabetes research Foundation Humanitarian of the Year Award. That’s almost as important as the Black Dragon Fighting Society membership I clipped out of a comic book, right?
-Unicorn overalls. Holy shit.