DISCLAIMER: I don't own them, I just satire them (again with the verb-making)

            Dear Ruthie,

My family refuses to support me in quite possibly the most important decision I have ever made.  I am seeing a slightly older man who I call Captain Smith because it makes him sound dirty, and no one seems to understand that, just because I'm dating someone my father's age to get back at square-jawed incoherence boy's brother, doesn't mean that I don't love him.  I don't, but that's beside the point.  I'm over twenty-one now.  How do I get my family to stop treating me like an insane twit?

            M.

            Dear Mary,

You insane twit.  Screw your bite sized brain back into your pretty little head, take a deep breath, and say it with me now: pedophile.  Have you seen the way Captain Jack looks at me?  It's, to say the least, disturbing.  Perhaps if your need to compensate for your perceived lacks (due, I'm sure to your rather out of character actions over the past three years) could be addressed intelligently, you wouldn't feel the need to act out to gain attention by dating a man I will henceforth refer to as "Grandpa."  *insane* cough cough *twit* cough cough. 

            Ruthie