Dear Slavery,

I've just moved to New York. Where can I find a good burrito?

-sofia


Dear Sophia,

Bored to the point of desperation, Melvin Hernwell dragged his battered Fender Combo ampifier out into his backyard during the meteor shower. Once the extension chord was in place, he turned the volume all the way up, plugged in his Stromberg-Verlag hollowbody and began to hack at its eight strings with his huge, clawlike fingers. The resulting sound waves traveled through an area of monkey grass and elm trees, up a nearby hillock, through the windows of a dilapidated mansion, and into the monocle of an elderly millionare named Percival Wentworth. After only a few seconds, it shattered.

--Slavery Hopkins