11/22/97 - People Spouting, "Howdy, Neighbor."

Dear Resident of Apartment 14,

Hello! We recently became neighbors, and I thought I should introduce myself, so that perhaps we can become friends, or at least learn a little bit more about each other.

I moved here almost two months ago, after returning from the state of Florida after almost a year and a half. Boy, it sure is a relief to be back here, amidst the beautiful fall foliage and the crisp, clean air. I really love this area! I guess it's true what they say, you can take the boy out of Maryland, but you can't take the Maryland out of the boy. Well, something like that, anyway!

Let me tell you a little more about myself. I work for a small, upstart company that does system integration for newspapers. I'm currently on a project with the Washington Post. Hey, if you're gonna start up a business with newspapers, it's hard to find a bigger one than that! It's pretty exciting, being around the reporters, and the newsroom, and all that glamorous "media" stuff. I keep walking around expecting to see guys wearing hats with the little "PRESS" tag on them, but so far, all I've seen is a lot of business suits. Well, except on Fridays, which are casual days. I sure am grateful for that! TGIF, right?! Haha. Anyway, it's a neat place to work, except when you have to go to the bathroom, because that place seems to have the gassiest employees in the world! But you probably don't want to hear about that, do you?

In my spare time, I like to write, and I also have a little website on which I like to put whatever I write. Some of the stuff is a little silly, but you might like it, so check it out some time! Also, I like to play music. My main instrument is the bass guitar, which I know is not usually a favorite with my neighbors! So I just wanted to let you know, if you can hear the guitar, and it's bothering you, just come on over and tell me to knock it off, or rap on the wall or something. I'll get the message! And I apologize in advance, in case that happens.

You're probably wondering why I was in Florida. Well, as I said, I enjoy playing on the internet. I know, I probably waste too much time there, but it's really addictive! What happened was, I met a girl on there. We really hit it off great, and eventually decided to be together. Problem was, I was in Maryland, and she was in Florida. After a while, I finally decided that it was going to be easier for me to move than for her, so I just took off!

Well, it was a lot of fun, but in the end, we had some differences that we just couldn't work through, so we decided to split up. You probably don't want to hear about all that personal stuff, so I won't bore you with it, but just so you know, that's why I came back, and how I came to be a resident in this lovely apartment community! It's probably the nicest suburban area I've lived in, and the rent is sure reasonable for this area. Except they're charging me $25 per month for my cats! That doesn't seem fair. They probably wouldn't charge extra if I had a kid, but a cat costs $25! Oh well, I guess it's worth it.

The biggest problem I'm having in settling back in is trying to meet people, though. I guess that's the main reason that I'm writing this letter to begin with. I have some old friends who still live here, and that's great and all, but it would kinda be nice to meet some new people. Especially, you know, a nice lady friend, perhaps.

The thing is, I've lived here for two months already, and I haven't even seen one young woman around here in that entire time! Weird, huh? I mean, I'm no ladies' man, and would probably have a tough time of it even if the place was crawling with chicks...but it's like, there's not even an opportunity! Very strange.

You know what else is strange around here? The mail delivery seems a bit odd. I mean, just last week, I opened my mailbox, and along with a number of bills (sheesh, they just never stop coming!) for me, there were a few letters addressed to apartment 14!

Remember when I knocked on your door to give you your mail? I know, it was kind of an uncomfortable situation, since I didn't even know you at all, but I thought that it could have been some important letter, or maybe Ed McMahon telling you that you won ten million dollars or something, so I thought I'd better try to get them to you right away!

Oh well, I guess I can't blame you for nervously shouting "Yeah!?" when I knocked. And then I suppose it was not all that unusual for you to, with an erratically shaking voice, mumble, "Can you just slip them under the door?" when I told you about your letters that I had erroneously received. Of course, I was more than happy to comply. I mean, we're neighbors, right? That's what neighbors do!

I can't help wondering, though, what it was that made you so afraid to open the door. I guess some people are more private than others, and wouldn't want anyone to see inside their apartment. That would make sense. Or maybe you're just cautious about opening your door to strangers. Hard to argue with that! Better safe than sorry, that's what they always say.

I swear, in the entire two months, I haven't seen one girl in the whole area.

Maybe it was that I just caught you at a bad time. You could have just gotten out of the shower, and weren't yet "decent". That would make sense, too. Isn't that always the way? As soon as you get out of the shower, you get a phone call, or someone's at your door. Weird!

Not one supple young female form. Not one.

Perhaps you had guests over, and were discussing some secretive business strategy plans that you didn't want anyone (especially anyone working at a newspaper) to get wind of. That certainly is a possibility. And completely understandable.

No babes. Anywhere.

Hmm.

You're chopping them up, aren't you, you sick fucker.

You're luring them into your lair of horror, tying them up while they scream for mercy, raping and beating them until they breathe their last, tortured breath, and then you're dismembering them with a carving knife, chewing on their entrails, and systematically disposing of the remaining body parts by hiding them, one by one, in the convenient draw-string garbage bags full of your own feces that you bury behind the dumpster every day.

I know what you're up to. And I know that you just didn't want me to see the gruesome sight of your latest sacrifice to the demonic voices that torment your mind, as she hung there from the ceiling in a barbed-wire noose. You're not fooling me.

I would like to meet a nice woman, if not for romance, at least for some companionship. I would take her out to a nice Italian restaurant, let her order whatever she wanted, even the expensive combo dishes, and we would sip a fine red wine while engaging in engrossing conversations about our hopes, dreams, fears, and wishes. I would then take her to a lake, where we could lazily stroll around the moonlit waters, hands held with fingers interlaced, and feel that special connection with nature than one can only feel when accompanied by someone who you know is sharing that feeling. And perhaps later we would repair to the comfort of her bedroom, and feel the warmth of each other's embrace as we let loose our passions in a writhing, carnivorous feast of ecstasy.

But I can't do that if you keep dragging them into your unholy abode, drugging them up, and then carving Satanic imagery into their flesh before dousing them with gasoline and setting their heads aflame, now can I?

Look, whatever you're into, whatever you like to do on your own time, I've got no problem with that. Each to their own, that's what I say. But I'm getting pretty horny over here, so knock it off, goddammit!

Sincerely,

Pinback, Resident of Apartment 13

P.S. - Have you tried the Chinese restaurant next to the grocery store? It's really good! The chicken in garlic sauce is super!



Pinback's Web Central

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