Dear Mr. Tim Burton

      Dear Mr. Tim Burton,

      I’m writing to request your assistance with a product bearing your name and the image of one of your copyrighted characters -- Corpse Bride Elixir.  It was a Mother’s Day gift to me from my boyfriend Rex -- his way of reminding me that he was willing to wait forever for me to accept his marriage proposal.  Sadly, forever came sooner than he expected, but I’m getting ahead of myself.  
     You are likely aware of the recent nuclear winter and how those of us with a bomb shelter have gone below until we receive the all-clear from the government.    My boyfriend, Rex, I’m afraid, was most likely vaporized by the blast.  Gosh, I sincerely hope you and Ms Bonham Carter, your family and your good friend Johnny Depp found a somewhere safe to wait out the worst of the radiation.  My three boys, the Gupta family from next door and I have been quite cozy in the shelter, that is, until last Tuesday.  You see, we ran out of coffee.  I’m very health conscious, but caffeine is my guilty pleasure.  After going without for 48 hours I went into withdrawal.  I simply could not get out of bed.  Being unable to move or speak, I gave poor Mrs. Gupta, who mistook me for a cadaver, quite a scare.  When I overheard her tell her husband roll me up in a Persian carpet and toss me out of the airlock, I managed to croak “caffeine” in my youngest son’s ear.  He passed on this message to Mr. Gupta, who, dear man that he is, rooted through our diminishing food stores for stimulants.  Luckily for me, he happened upon the can of Corpse Bride Elixir.   His wife fed it to me with an eye dropper.  My god, it was good.  After one drop, I’d never felt so alive.  I jumped up and cleaned and dusted the entire shelter.  This morning, after downing the rest of the can, I tap-danced up the concrete walls of the shelter and along the steel ceiling.  Swinging from the overhead light fixture, I dictated the first half a novel to Mrs. Gupta, who is a touch typist.  
     So, Mr. Burton, please ship four cases of Corpse Bride Elixir to the address above A.S.A.P.  I’ve enclosed $100 Canadian in cash, which should cover shipping, taxes and gratuities.    My boys, Jeb, Jonah and Jacob, who are big fans of James and the Giant Peach, are counting on you to help their mum.
     Thank you,         
     Ms Joan Anderson


     Dear Ms Anderson,
     I’m sorry about the delay in responding to your letter.  I trust you and your family and friends are alive and well.  I’m Tim Schmidt, president of the Cheektowaga, NY, branch of the Tim Burton fan club.  I haven’t met Mr. Burton or Johnny Depp in person, but as a member of the local dental association, I’ve seen the fake teeth Mr. Depp wore in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  As you must know, this being America, looting, pillaging, raping and murdering are prevalent above in spite of the radiation sickness.  Therefore, I’m sorry to say that your letter arrived without the $100 Canadian you claim to have enclosed.  But don’t despair.  For the sake of Jeb, Jonah and Jacob, the Cheektowaga Tim Burton fan club held bake sales, bingo nights and de-radiation hose-downs, raising enough to purchase six cans of Corpse Bride Elixir, which you’ll find enclosed.  Drink it in good health madam.  
     Yours,
     Tim Schmidt.

      Dear Mr. Schmidt,
      Thank you to you and your club for the kind gift.  After consuming three of the six cans of Corpse Bride Elixir, I felt amazing, but I’ve noticed that my skin has begun to slough off.  I’ve also noticed that my eyes tend to pop out when I’m surprised. Screwing them back in is easy enough, but I have to wonder whether this is a normal side-effect of the product.
     Yours,
     Ms Joan Anderson

      Tim,
      Please disregard my last note.  All is well.  The boys and I finished the six-pack of Corpse Bride Elixir and we felt so good that we went above in search of more of this life-giving beverage.  And what do you know, we ran into my boyfriend, Rex.  At least I think it was him.  His skeleton looked about right.  Anyhow, the wedding is next Monday.  You and the Tim Burton fan Club are cordially invited  to the reception (see enclosed invitiation).
     Love,
     Mrs. Rex Goreman-to-be   

     Joan,
     My apologies for taking so long to respond.  Please do not under any circumstances consume any more of the Corpse Bride Elixir.  One or more of the cans may have been exposed to lethal amounts of radiation.  I’m not well myself, after having eaten Jack Skellington cheese-strings...
     Yours,
     Schmidt

-- by M. Alice Chown