My Dearest Kuntar... if only because you're the only Kuntar I know,

The ladies of the CIJ have not forfeited, we were simply on an extended
shopping trip. In fact, we really haven't the time for this little
exchange, what with our upcoming tea party. (You and your fellows are
not invited, by the way)

To Dragonknight: Have you forgotten that -you- are the forestal?
Harvesting natural ingredients for various pies is YOUR job. And, if
you'll go through the trouble of collecting various wild goods, I'm sure
you can also take it a step farther and mush it into something
semi-agreeable.

To Tiax: I hear Marwan in El'Jazira makes a mean sandwich, perhaps you
will have better luck with him.

To Calithandir: An apron? I'd have to buy new shoes to match, not to
mention a new blouse and skirt, and quite frankly, it's too much trouble
for something so tacky. Keep in mind that -your- (inferior) sense of
style is just that - yours.

To Antras: Son, it is in your best interest NOT to try to come between
me and my shoes... or any other woman and her shoes. You will be beaten
with all 386 pairs of them... one shoe at a time. After that, the
kittens that you relocated with the promise of a new life will be given
your house to live in. As a house warming gift, the women of the CIJ
will give them your beaten body.

To Kuntar, on the topic of socks: I'm sure that if you just eat your
socks, your own internal organs will cleanse them in some way. At the
very least, I guarantee they will come out cleaner than they went in. If
this idea does not appeal to you, there is an alternative: stop using
your socks for those things which have been proven to kill kittens, make
you go blind, and make your palms hairy.

A WARNING to the men of the CIJ: Your constant, and rather annoying
pleas for food are depressing... mainly because you are all still alive
to beg. I have heard starvation is a slow death, but quite honestly, I
could bring about a similar outcome in a fraction of the time. I love
hearing you guys beg, but it's like the whimpering of a puppy -
endearing at first, and then painfully repetitive. Pretty soon, it's all
someone can do not to choke the life out of the poor thing. I hear it's
bad manners to choke a starving man, but I think that the action can be
justified if the manners of the person you are choking are worse, and,
let's face it, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, using
grunts in polite conversation, and not holding the door open for a lady
is as bad as it gets.

Now, since all of you are still alive, I suspect that someone is feeding
you, and judging from your extreme incompetence, you can't be feeding
yourselves. In a strategic move I have done away with the kitchen. You'd
be amazed at the miracles one can bring about simply by leaving the fire
in the oven burning and a trail of accelerant leading from it while away
on an all-day shopping trip.

P.S. Kuntar, that horrid collection of naked lady sketches you own were
lost in the fire. I'm very sorry. Maybe now you won't spend so much time
in the bathroom or in the bedroom with the door locked.



Wondering how you guys find the time for this with your supposed
bacon-bringing,
Ata Eruu'Yul

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Miraman, in the year 473 AF.