Dear Mr. Lawrence,
Please let me say how happy I am to hear from Walt Kelly's Togo. I have been corresponding with Nigerians lately and, between you and me, they're black. I am a black man myself, but these dudes are really, really black. Have you seen a Nigerian? These guys are so black, they make me look white.
All right, you caught me. I am white. But I feel black, sort of like Peter Wolf and Sophie Dahl. I just didn't need those Nigerians reminding me of my inner blackness, the black that needs to come out, the black that will not be denied. Plus, I had a feeling that the Nigerians weren't being honest with me, as if they got some White People database to see whom they could catch in their web of trickery and actual blackness.
Remember that Santeria priest in the Martin Sheen movie 'The Believers'? Hooo Shit that was one black guy!
That is why I am happy to hear from the Republic of Togo. Your little Mediterranean monarchy always charmed me, from your wonderful casinos where James Bond cavorted to your lovely Princess Grace. Her death was a tragedy. Tell me: as a doctor, Dr. Lawrence, do you think Princess Grace ever 'did it' (by this I mean 'had sex') with a black man? A strong, proud black man could lend some stability to the lives of your Princesses Caroline and Stephanie. Those are their names, right? All white bitches look the same to me.
Dr. Lawrence, I have read your letter several times and I am honored that you thought of me. How you came across my name I don't know, but it must have something to do with the common soul we share, as explained by Carl Jung, better known as the guy who played Apollo Creed. Could you believe what Drago did to brother Carl? Whitey must be stopped with the Quickness.
So Mr. Levy Shimony died in a plane crash and you need a family member to claim his $10.5 million. I am your man. As you know, my name, too, is Levy Shimony (though my middle name is Action). Many Lebanese Jews have several instances of the same name within the immediate family, much like George Foreman. I can of course furnish ample documentation of my name and can pass myself off as Mr. Shimony's brother.
In order to do this, I must needs first come to your peaceful Republic and establish residency. I am a little down on my luck right now, having just been knocked out by Lennox Lewis, and I notice that even low-level shifty bank employees in Walt Kelly's Togo have doctorates. It's the same with Nigerian Oil Executives, strangely enough. Well, a mind is a terrible thing to waste. Since I do not have an advanced degree, I am going to need to receive monies from you for at least six months. Those monies will allow me to purchase wares, foodstuffs, equipments, and finery. If I am to arrive at your bank and impersonate the Jewish brother of a Lebanese export tycoon, I can't look all ghetto.
Please forward me your credit card number (with expiration date) and two first class tickets to Togo for me and my Baby-mama.
Fo shizzle ma nizzle,
Levy Action Shimony