A letter finds your mailbox @dogshitfartelectric. Sealed by ragged twine tightened too tight, as to slightly wrinkle and crunch the envelope and the letter within. It bears no seal or return address.
The letter reads as follows in painstakingly crude hand-writing. Straight lines, marked by a slight tremble. As if someone had gripped a quill with all their strength, and delivered all their focus to each individual letter.
MALIKETH
WE MUST SPEAK. YOU LALBL - LAEBL - NAMED ME A SLAVE. I AM NOT A SLAVE. YOU ARE WRONG.
I AM NO SLAVE, LIKE YOU.
IDIOT. HOW COULD YOU NOT FEEL FREEDOM IN MY PUMMM-PUMEL-PUMM- FISTS? THE LACK OF CHAINS? HOW CAN YOU NOT FEEL YOUR CHAINS?
MY FISTS DID NOT CONVINCE, CONVI COV TELL YOU. OR YOU DID NOT LISTEN TO THEM. STRONG IS YOUR METAL SKIN, AND LAKE LADY’S CHAINS OF GRAD-GRATIT-GARA SER VISS.
A TRUE WARRIOR HAS A MIND, AS SHARP, AS A SWORD.
I SHALL TRY. WORDS. WORTHLESS THAT THEY ARE.
SO COME TO THE BEACH. AND LET US TALK. JUST. US.
LEAVE YOUR MEWLING WIFE, AND WASTED DAUGHTER BEHIND. THEY IRRITATE IRR IRTIT - ANGER ME. AND I WOULD NOT HES- HESI. HESTI. . . NOT NOT STRIKE THEM.
