Dear Timmy,
I hope this letter finds you well via speedy delivery, however, I fear that after your mother reads this to you, you will probably be very sad.
On behalf of Mr. Rogers and all the puppets of The Land of Make Believe, I regret to inform you that your request to be Mr. Rogers’ neighbor has been soundly rejected. We encourage you to never apply again.
It’s come to our attention that you are not a 5-year-old special needs child suffering from “Extreme Horseplay Syndrome” as you claimed, but are, in fact, an illiterate 47-year-old man who still lives with his mother.
We surely don’t wish to judge you based purely on these facts. Our very own King Friday XIII is also illiterate, and Lady Elaine is, quite frankly, a total a-hole. There is no shame in these things. People are who they are and should be accepted as they are without question or judgment.
There is shame, however, in some of the other alarming facts our approval team discovered about you. To wit:
- You once spent 4 hours in a Teets, Oklahoma Walmart mixing up all the video discs and cases in the $1 DVD bin. As a result, at least one person who purchased The Rainbow Fairy’s Tea Party for their young child ended up discovering all too late that the actual movie their child watched was Soul Eating Zombie Clowns 4: The Gutting.
- At an annual Lion’s Club all-you-can-eat fajita dinner in Scrump, Texas you took the entire warming pan of beef fajita meat out to your car and ate it all with your hands. You then re-entered the establishment and wiped the grease off of your face with old Mrs. Dante’s wig, which you had actually taken off of her head a week earlier at her own funeral.
- You murdered old Mrs. Dante.
Again, we wholeheartedly regret that we have to inform you of the terrible news that you will not be Mr. Rogers’ neighbor. We’re sure you will be very sad, but we are excited to let you know that you will have many, many very close neighbors soon since members of the FBI will be swarming your house in 3, 2, 1…
Sincerely,
Daniel Tiger
Writer, reader, musician, dad, SEO dude and mediocre photographer from Texas. Sometimes I eat pizza with a fork, but usually not.