BY: Mathew ‘afilmaday’ Lee

Dear Master Snooks

I have been very patient with you; for years I’ve had the unfortunate endurance of emotional, physical and psychological neglect at your hands. I have tried various devices to grab your attention, but your abrasive nature of pushing me to one side is humiliating. You seem me as a piece of nostalgia, a reminder of a better time for you, rather than someone who has seen you at your best and worst. The only reminder I have of your sanity is the Godzilla 1989 edition model placed on your highest shelf, but otherwise you are nothing more than a drunken fool in a suit. I can almost recall the last time you touched me.

It was last summer during a family BBQ. Your brothers kids were round and they seemed interested in myself, spending a good hour or so paying great attention to me, but you, in a drunken stooper, decided to grab it away from them, somewhat aggressively and showed me off to your mates. This felt nice; almost a reminder of a bygone age and one thought things would return to what was neglected many years prior. Only to find, and you thought I wouldn’t hear this, you on the phone disgraced by your actions in using me, calling it, in your words, “a drunken student moment”. Is that all am I to you? A drunken student activity? You gave me names that they never bothered to do; you called me Juno. Most people gave me names like Bouncer or Ma Orange Fwend. You put some time and thought into my name when you were younger, but now you spend more time comparing me to your DVD’s, games consoles and gadgets than who I am. Who I was! Being something from the 1970’s is difficult to compete against; what can I offer to you!? Sorry I don’t have extras on me; what you see is what you get!

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!? I try, but all I seem to be to you is an inconvenience; something you move to the other side of the room; something for dust to accumulate or a friend to sit on when you’ve ran out of chairs

I’m Juno! Remember? I felt like a someone for once, which is rare.

If you find my round orange corpse laying flat in the middle of your bedroom, I’m sorry you didn’t get there first! I did something you wanted to do since you started your new job at Chaucer! Don’t bother trying to save me, because I’ll simply do it again and again and again. I would have loved and be there for you till the day you died, but something like me can only take so much neglect! I merely wished I could be more to you.

Sorry I was everything you didn’t want.


x x x

Hey Snooks,

Dude, what do you think? Nice, hey? I thought so; nothing better than a goodbye present from your friendly ex-roommate/lodger. This took me ages to do, so you had better appreciate the hardwork gone into this; had to take a fuckload of LSD to get the mathematical, symmetry shit to work; web like this done come out easy, like. It fucking hurts when you strain; think of those shits you did when you went through the kebab phase. Motherfucker, you stank so bad I thought I was gonna puke; I didn’t stay still outta fear, but outta disgust man! Those shits were nasty! I let it go, though like; thinking of living rent-free somewhere would be cool like with someone like you, looking out for me, but after these last fucked up days, I thought I’d show me, what’s it, appreciation.

As you may have gathered, this is a giant fuck you to you, dude! I thought we knew where we stood with each other; I’d chill in this corner, catching those fucking flies for ya whilst you kept me alive cos, hell, you hated them, I hate them, you can’t catch them, I can trap them and for good measure I eat the motherfuckers! So, I thought was a pretty sweet deal. In fact I remember your mum came in to try and get rid of me and you said, “Nah, he’s cool.” so I thought, “Fucking sweet; this motherfucker’s alright!” So I thought of showing my gratitude by getting you that wood-paper-shit that you guys are into, it’s something with an old woman on the front, I dunno. Still, the same day I was out to get you some, you came at me with a motherfucking shoe! A shoe, bitch! Since then, I’ve seen you kill others through looking in through the window, but they’re just ex’s kids that ate her ungrateful ass when they popped out, and knew you had flipped motherfucker. Went sic on my ass! Your mum, forgetting about how retarded she is, was right about one thing, “They just keep coming back.” Bitch, she sure was right! So, now you’re reading this and thinking, “What the fuck am I gonna do!?” I wouldn’t concern yourself with that, there’s nothing you can do Jewbag (I’ve heard your ball-and-chain call ya that and you seem pretty pissed at it), so just know this, you may have won the battle but you ain’t ever gonna win this war. I know where you sleep, I know how to get in and out whenever I please and more importantly, I know your body. Don’t start thinking anything you fucking perv’; you know what I mean! Being of my size, I can do some serious fucking damage to your body! With enough use of this web, I can do some serious damage to places you thought were safe, places you feel most vulnerable, to places where nothing bigger than myself can get to. Seeing you watching some fucked up things on the net gave me and idea or two; at the time, I weren’t gonna do nothing, but now, since you’ve fucked me over, I’m gonna fuck you up!

Peace, bitch!

You know what I am!

Dear Master Snooks

Do not be alarmed by this letter, you are not going mad; I am not a family member of yours, nor a friend, nor an incredibly nosey neighbour. I am merely a concerned acquaintance you are not fully aware of. To give a very quick introduction of myself and the reason for this letter, my name is Frederick Jenkins, my friends used to call me Fred, although around my birthday everyone respectively calls me by my full name, although some of ‘the chaps’ still call me Fred. I digress. The meaning of this letter.

Considering I completed this letter just after lunchtime and it is a weekday, I’m lead to believe you have returned home from school? Through this assumption, your parents are not due home for approximately 2 hours as does your brother. In addition to this assumption, you have probably returned from the bathroom having spent most of your day within the confines of the school, somewhat frustrated. Is this correct?

Having relieved your frustration, you have this obsession of solo-Christening the bedroom too with the pillows, is this, again, correct? I hope I have broken your chain of events to bring me to the point of this letter you are currently holding.

Being a concerned citizen, residing in your bedroom, the landing and bathroom, I must insist an immediate relaxation of your past times in order for myself to carry out my daily and nightly duties. Prior to your family moving in, life was simpler; the elderly couple did very little in such perverse activities and much of day-to-night life was simple – although, just between you and I, bath time was an awkward time to say the least. Still, despite that and the odd mishap of a broom handle up the gentleman’s posterior trying desperately to hold composure in an otherwise empty house, life was simple. They sold the home to move into a retirement complex and your family moved in; the first time I saw your pre-pubescent face I thought you were to be a fine target of haunting. Little did I know the sexual fiend you would become!

First time you did this … activity, you looked horrified! As though you had committed a sin; but since then, you have not been able to stop yourself, have you? Countless times I’ve done my best to appear among your clothes, sneakily sit on the edge of your bed to say some strange sayings from Biblical text, and no sooner have you got your hands in your pants and began tugging violently. Do you understand the awkwardness I’m facing here, Master Snooks?

You may not recall, but one time I waited in the corridor, hoping to catch you unawares. What did you do? You thought it would be appropriate to climax your load onto the landing light switch! Foul, Mister Snooks, utterly foul! Normal people do not behave like this.

The odd solo fun time is appropriate and when I was a young lad full of life, I would do the same, but moderation, young sir! 17 times in one evening to see if dust really comes out is not an ideal past time! I’ve even waited for you to exhaust yourself; there was that advertisement you saw in a pornographic magazine that had a product that would allow you to ejaculate for up to six feet. What did you cockily try to prove that Friday night? You rejected a night round your friends to see if you could do this with sheer will power; have you ever seen someone stand in the middle of the bedroom with an erect penis violently masturbate to hit the wall on the other side with its own sperm, only to be disappointed when it merely dribbled onto the floor and rather than accepting this defeat, would continue for an additional 4 hours. This is not normal! You need help!

Thinking my haunting were unsuccessful there, I tried the bathroom, and even there you would not let up. Who can do that and brush their teeth!? You practise far too hard young sir, far too hard!

It would be beneficial for both you and I if these activities could cease, or calmed down greatly as so I do not need to compete with your ectoplasm.

Kindest Regards

Frederick Jenkins
(deceased – relax, you did not cause this.)


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

WhatsApp chat