[256x400]Dear mister or missuz God.
Hi. Umm... I heard some people talking about you on television... So... I thougt, maybe, you could help me. Umm... I have some money.

***

-- I'm glad you showed up, Shmee. You make all the bad things go away.
-- Go away? Oh, little man, you're a little off on that one. See, I don't get rid of all those nigtmare things... I absorb them. Just think of me as your own personal trauma-sponge.

***

Honey, if your brain is what made you dress like this, it's the last thing you should bother protecting.

***

I am in Los Angeles. I cannot remember being quite so unhappy geographically since that one time I was on Mars and the mask of my space suit cracked and my head imploded.

***

Twitching crackbaby! This is just awful! I need a break. Maybe take a walk or fire a deathray at the earth. Yeah, I think I'll do the deathray thing.