Another Letter to Michael

Dear Michael,

Hey buddy. I hope you got the fact that my previous letter to you (http://fooltide.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/letter-to-michael.html) was a joke. I'm pretty sure you're the kind of mouse who gets my sense of humour. Not that failing to get it would mean anything negative about you personally. When I say "failing", I don't mean failing, obviously. I mean, you're clearly a very smart creature. And handsome too. Have I told you how handsome you probably are? I can find you a lady mouse! One with a sexy tail or something. Not that you need my help.... I'm babbling.

Let me start over.

I didn't realise that you were The Batrat, sworn to avenge the death of your parents. Sure, your mother probably would have tried to eat you eventually, but they were probably lovely. And I'm sure you would have been very tasty. I promise I won't tell anyone about your secret identity, nor your glorious lair just beyond my ceiling. This blog thing? Don't worry, pal, nobody reads this stuff. What kind of man-clown would post this kind of rubbish somewhere people are likely to visit? Exactly, this kind of....NO, nobody will know. Please, Michael....sir....don't hurt me. I've never done anything to you. The previous letter, the late night threats spat out seemingly in hate, that time I threw a shoe at what turned out to another shoe- all a clever charade of humour and japes. The traps? No, no, no I was just....er....trying to build a....something believable....large scale version of that game, Mousetrap. Without the mouse trapping portion, of course. I....love....you....?

You're not buying any of this, are you?

Fine.

Don't push me, ratjerk. You don't want any of this fight. Those parents of yours? Oh, you were probably too young to remember. I remember you though. Pest. Want to know which of your parents was a coward? You cannot win this one. I knew all along that you lived in the ceiling. My ignorance a clever deception. You think you can throw on a cape and strike some manner of fear in the hearts of slumbering souls? You just look ridiculous. Hell, you look downright cute. A mouse in a cape? The internet exists for the sole purpose of adorably mis-spelling words in captions of you. Well, that and porn. Lots and lots of porn, only a small niche section of which involves mice in capes....probably. What have I told you about wondering after my unhealthy sexual interest in mice!? That sound you heard was of me reading the articles!

Stop going all Shallow Grave on me with your ceiling based voyeurism and come face me like the rat bastard you are. I shall be your greatest trial, your nemesis among nemeses. You can call me....

*drum roll to heighten the tension before revealing my astounding supervillain name*

That Guy Who Kills Mice Sometimes I Guess.

Yeah, I need some fine-tuning on that one. Still, knock it off or the next shoe I throw will hit something other than another shoe....or the ceiling....or my bottle of whisky, which I'm not presently drinking. Stay out of my stuff!

Yours in continuing animosity,
Deebs