Yeah, yeah, I know – I have a bunch of things I've needed to update forever, and I already started yet another story with yet another friend. So why am I starting AN ADDITIONAL new story?

Well, I got inspired listening to music by Kansas (don't even know what gave me the idea) and I didn't want to pass up the opportunity to write something weird and entertaining – as well as really creepy. To be honest, I don't know what I'm doing with this, but I'll try to make sure that I don't neglect it quite as much as my other stories. I just need something to do right now…

Now, bear with me – this beginning probably won't take very long to get going, but I don't want to give the whole plot away at once either. And be forewarned, there will probably be some dialogue that's ridiculous, or just plain insulting to your intelligence.

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Letters From Spain

By Burning Bridges

Chapter One: All You Need is Love

Osmund Saddler sat at his desk, staring lovingly at a photograph in a frame of vine-like twisted pewter, tapping the tip of a quill against a piece of slightly tattered paper. He had a lot on his mind that he wanted to put into words, but he knew there would be time for that later on, when he wasn't busy with his plot to take over the world. But he needed to say just the right thing…

As far back as he could remember, he'd never been as happy as he was right now. The psychological scars left by the years he'd spent as a complete failure of a magician were slowly fading away, he had the whole community in his control and he'd found the one he knew he was meant to be with. He was certain that life would be much better from now on.

Now if he could only think of what to say…

His staff twitched, and he looked over to where it leaned against the wall.

"What do you think I should write?" he asked, and it quivered like a severed squid tentacle.

"You pervert! I'm not writing that! Wait – I know…"

He dipped the quill in a jar of ink, scrawling his thoughts in elegant script across the paper.

My Dear,

Words cannot express the feeling that has clenched my heart in this unwavering death grip. It's more than just love, it's the feeling of having just eaten a thousand Slim Jims and chugging a gallon of whisky in five minutes… a slightly sickening rush of bliss. I wish you were here with me right now, but not to worry – we'll be together soon. Right after I take care of some business. I hope that –

The door was suddenly flung open, and Salazar came dancing in, carrying a radio that was blasting "Safety Dance".

"We can dance if we want to. We can leave your friends behind 'cause your friends don't dance, and if they don't dance, well, they're no friends of mine…"

"Ramon!" Saddler shouted, trying to be heard over Men Without Hats. "RAMON!"

"Uh, yes?" Salazar asked, turning down the volume.

"I'm trying to write a letter here."

"You're not writing a death threat to David Blaine again, are you? Or once more telling Chriss Angel that he's a 'sacrilegious bitch'?"

"No, I'm writing to the love of my life."

"Oh, oh, sorry I interrupted… By the way, do you want that Krauser guy to go get the president's daughter yet?"

"I told you already – I'll let him know when I'm prepared."

"Well, it's just that he keeps asking and - "

"Then tell him to get a hobby! Can you not see I'm busy right now? Go away!"

Salazar left quickly, leaving Saddler to his letter again.

So, as I was saying before the long scribble across the page…

I hope that when we finally come together it'll be as though all the bad things I've experienced never happened, and we can enjoy a lifetime in each others' company, ruling the world. We'll be bigger than Sonny and Cher.

I look forward to the moment when I can take you into my arms and … smell your hair? Is that what I wanted to say?

…That damn David Blaine…

Anyway, see you soon.

Love,

Your Ossie

He placed the quill in the ink jar, and heaved a sigh as he folded the paper into thirds and sealed it with a wax stamp portraying the Los Illuminados insignia. "It won't be long now."

The staff shuddered and he glared at it.

"I never told you her name because that's none of your business. Besides, I want it to be a surprise."

The staff replied with a sharp jerk.

"What's she like? She's a goddess in a woman's body…"

Sometime later, in America…

Ashley Graham was driving along, a cellphone in one hand, yakking away.

"So I was all like, 'Sup, home slice?'. And she was like, 'Wigga, please'. Then we totally got into a fight and I bust a cap in her ass!"

"Wawawa, wawawawawa," said the phone.

"What do you mean stop acting like I'm from the ghetto? Bitch, I EMBODY the ghetto!"

Jack Krauser, who was hiding in the back seat, was getting sick of listening to Ashley talk, and he was sure it was about time to get this plan in action.

"Thug life!" Ashley said, and Krauser sat up.

"First of all, do you know it's illegal to have a phone in your hand while you drive? Second, would you shut the hell up already?"

Ashley slammed on the brakes. "… Why are you in my car?"

"I'm taking you on a vacation," he said sarcastically and she dropped the cellphone, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm.

"Yay, a vacation!"

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Okay, I hope no one got offended by Ashley "embodying the ghetto" – if you did, please don't hurt me…

Wow, Saddler has great letter writing skills, huh? That definitely isn't the way to sweep a woman off her feet…

And I know I didn't get too into the whole "Saddler being a failed magician" thing yet, but I'll get to that as I go along. It'll probably play an important role somehow…

Anyway, join me for the next chapter, when we find out what the hell is going on here!

Now, if you're reading, leave me a review and let me know what you think! And feel free to raid my fridge…