Hey all of you self-detesting lowlifes,

I am Ani Toguro, though all you Toonami watchers of America may know me as Elder Toguro. (And to all of you Americans who do and did know that my name was Ani, tell your ignorant friends to stop sending me letters addressed to "Mrs. Annabelle Toguro." I'm not sure if they're trying to be polite or witty, but their succeeding only in pissing me off. You humans are so annoying.)

Now I know what you're all thinking- "You can't be Ani Toguro, he was locked up in a plant by that ninny, Kurama". Well, you're wrong because I'm out now. I am immortal and the plant it not… I ate my way out. But I'm out none the less, and have been for a while and let me tell you, once I'm feeling better and can walk again I'm going to wreak such havoc, you'll… you'll… explode! Yes, that's it, you'll explode! But why can't I walk at the moment? To tell you the truth, I can't even get out of bed. You see, after I got out of the tree I was asked to sign autographs at Comic Con in San Diego. So I figured I'd tell them that I'd "sign autographs", but instead to seize the chance to mortify and spread fear on a mass scale through the loser-society of earth. Well once I stepped through the door there was a general "OH MY GOD, IT'S ELDER TOGURO!" and before I knew it I was buried beneath at least one hundred layers of freaks. I counted fifty Inuyashas, twenty storm-troopers, eleven Klingons, and countless others. Stupid Cos-Players.

And yes, I moved my organs around in an attempt to keep them from harm, but when you're buried beneath a mountain of writhing bodies… something's going to get hurt. It did. I'm not going to tell you what it was, for that is my personal business. But something got hurt. Really hurt. I still can't see exactly what the purpose of jumping on me was… but I'm not too anxious to find out, either. I was hospitalized and pumped full of vitamins and pills and needles until I couldn't see straight and actually began contemplating the possibilities of endorsing world peace. Bleh! And other than that all I think the shots did was make me groggy for a day and create an odd craving for mashed-potatoes. For a day I was a slave to starches. It was quite disturbing.

Anyhow, I'd like to lodge a complaint right now. You see, thanks to the horrible massacring of my actual words that these pathetic TV-channels have partaken in, I have been made a complete fool. Not only do I only laugh about 5 times in the entire Dark Tournament Saga (admit it, my laugh rules over you all), but I come off as a complete pervert. What is all this? So maybe I talked dirtily about Genkai for a moment, but the TV stations promised me they'd edit it out! Did they keep their promise? No! It makes me sound like some sort of pathetic loser who never got any, and…

Don't you laugh at me, you nasty little excuse for intelligent life! Of course I've had women! Well, I could get women if I wanted to. I can contort my body into anything, you see. I could make myself into the spitting image of Brad Pitt if I wanted to… or Orlando Bloom, or any of your ideal men. I've just never been quite interested, that's all- after all they'd just hold me back! I could get women without having to extend any part of me (if any of you laughed at that, I will personally come to your house and strangle you with a piano-wire). A super-power such as myself can't have ladies hanging around after all, and besides they make those high, screechy sounds when I do any shape-shifting at all which brings me to my next point.

I don't know what or how they did it, but someone somewhere messed with my voice! I watched the show and I tell you there is no way- no way- that my voice is so… so… irritating. Though somehow they managed to retain the awesome splendor of my maniacal laugh, they must have done something to my speaking voice. They must have, I tell you!

And the thing which gets me the most is my complete lack of story-line. They honestly cut out all of my explanation. I'm a randomly psychotic killer, and utterly motiveless! It's like they just decided "Well, he's short so we'll match his story to his size". Well I'll tell you I'm not just some freak who loves to kill! Sure, I've always had a bit of a short fuse, and yes I was one of those children who jumped on their cousins' sand-castles, but that's beside the point. The point is all I wanted to do was be accepted by my brother. You know, be good enough to hang around him. It started in high school, you can well imagine… I've never been the tallest of my kind. Brother, though older, was always my protector. You see, what I had for him was little short of worship and when I became a demon… well, it… it… augmented a bit. You know, I went a little overboard, but only a little! Honestly, I was short-changed. This was not okay. At all. Seriously.

One more thing before I dive into a conclusion- for the love of god, no more mail, please! If I get one more note asking me if I "do puppet shows for children's parties," or if I "do impersonations", or- worst of all- if I can "become a rubber band," I'm going to scream! Stop, you pathetic mortals. You all are so lucky I'm still bed-ridden.

My hand hurts from writing. I hope you're all happy. You've made my life miserable, and I can't even get out of bed.

Good thing The OC is on.

-Ani