Below is the continuation of a series of letters written to a dirty, vegetable-stealing chipmunk thief named Biscuits. Biscuits, if you are reading this, stop eating my produce. Also, stop stealing my WiFi.
July 4, 2012
How come you haven't written me back? I'm starting to think your agoraphobia is related to your eating disorder (your "disorder" being unable to stop eating my vegetables). If that's the case, I know what you're going through. I know when I was a bachelor I'd make pancakes a lot and sometimes even put chocolate chips in them (okay, all of the time) (shhh). Let me tell you a hard truth: eating won't make the sad, loneliness go away. Turning to overeating isn't healthy, chipmunk, especially if you keep gnawing on my tomatoes. No, I will not feed you chocolate chips. You're (unsurprisingly) focusing on the wrong part of the story.
In a previous letter, I wrote, "Thanks for killing my rosemary." This was meant as sarcasm. I feel the need to point this out because I'm not sure you understand the concept, being a rodent and all. You might have been all like, "Well, I'm glad my home is doing him a favor!" WRONG. This is the EXACT OPPOSITE of what you should be thinking.
You're stupid. I bet you don't even know what Facebook is.
Wishing you a horrible 4th of July,
p.s. I don't even care about the Alvin & the Chipmunks autographs anymore. I wouldn't want them from you now anyway. It's totally fine that I've disappointed my daughter for the first time and she's completely heartbroken. Don't let that keep you up at night (sarcasm! I really hope you can't sleep and are all tired and moody tomorrow).
July 5, 2012
Heya Bright Eyes,
Look, I'm sorry about before. It's been a rough few weeks but that's no reason to take it out on you. It occurred to me last night that maybe you just can't read. It's nothing to be ashamed about. To show that there are no hard feelings I've bought you (with my own money) an Oxford English dictionary. No thanks necessary. Just stop eating my vegetables. Cool?
p.s. I also left a Bible because, well, you know. It never hurts to read the Word. There are lessons in there you can benefit from, for instance Jesus' message on stealing. (Spoiler alert! He's not a fan).
July 8, 2012
The red splotches of tomato around your little den indicate that you've enjoyed another free meal at my expense. Game on.
Your kind are apparently expert swimmers. That's right, I did my research on you ("Know thy enemy," is a quote by some smart HUMAN). I'd like to see you beat me at the 100m Butterfly. "Expert swimmers" my foot! I bet if I got five of you together you'd probably be the worst synchronized swimmers ever and not even do half of the moves. And don't even get me started on how horrible you'd be at water polo. News flash: CUTENESS DOES NOT SCORE YOU POINTS IN WATER POLO.
I also see here that your kind likes to live alone. Well laa-dee-freaking-dah. I wouldn't want to live with you either. Maybe if you LEARNED TO SHARE once in a while you'd have more friends. But probably not.
I also see here that you don't pack on extra body fat for the winter like pretty much all other animals do. What, so you think you're better than everybody else? Watching your figure, there? Yeah, you wouldn't want to get pudgy and mask that six-pack you've got going on. Oh, that's right, your adorable stomach is COVERED WITH DUMB FUR I WANT TO NUZZLE. But now that I say that you'll probably just get a Brazilian, won't you? Way to be a smug, vain metrosexual, chipmunk. Zero points.
Go find a log to burrow in (which is what you're known to do!),
p.s. I was just kidding about before. I'd totally still love the autographs. I won't sell them on Ebay or anything.
July 9, 2012
Oh, hey, look at that! You can carry food in your cheeks!
Oh, and standing up on your hind legs doesn't intimidate me. It just makes me want to put tiny cowboy boots on you. I hate you so much for that.
Stop eating food.
July 10, 2012
Okay, I lied. Remember when I said your eyes looked sinister? They actually look like a lazy attempt to look like Cleopatra (sexy) but it doesn't work on chipmunks (not sexy). I'm sorry to say, you're never going to be cast for the role. You're far too short and, to put it bluntly, chipmunky. Time to just stop.
Hey, it's okay to question your sexuality, Biscuits, but do you have to do it while gnawing cutely one of my cucumbers? No. No you certainly do not.
Go search for yourself in someone else's yard.
p.s. I'm taking back my Bible, heathen. I don't want to see you in heaven anyway. I'll be darned if it's my Bible that causes you to be saved. You know who doesn't make it to heaven? Vegetable thieves. Don't give me that. It's in the Bible somewhere. Possibly Psalms.
July 12, 2012
Dear Good Friend Biscuits,
My daughter spotted you. She apparently wants you over for dinner. Do me a favor and be cool about these letters. If you're coming over, you don't have to bring much, just a tomato or two. I'm sure you know where to find them.
Kelly Van De Walle is the senior creative writer for Briscoe14 Communications (www.briscoe14.com). He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org or via tiny mailbox erected in his garden for good buddy Biscuits the chipmunk. Follow him (Kelly) on Twitter @pancake_bunny or risk having Biscuits chew on your stuff.