Yes! It is the return of the 'Props'!

Love you guys!

Lady of Faerie: You just get better, don't you?

Nightlark: You love && sniff && Brain? (Brain: Scoreboard, baby! Hey, 'Lark you wanna meet me at Barnes & Noble for some serious reading? We could get a caffeine drip...)

DM: What can I say? I always love reading your reviews. You are a breath of fresh air. I mean that. Luv Ya!

Shekron Kaiser: Whew! You confused my brain (but not my 'Brain'.) Watch out for that cape...

Kali Donovan: Yay! She said it again! (Brain: He really is an idiot.)

animegirl75: Try what...?

Christina Ross: Hope you are doing fine now. Please let me know. (Brain: I, on the other hand, can appreciate reveling in another's pain, especially if it is Vin...)

Terra Logan: Thank you for the genuine (if qualified) comment. And, yes, I are to smart!

Push Me: Thanks! But do continue your fic—I need the cover.

Saint H: What can I say about Saint H that hasn't already been said (without using profanity.) Great job, man—keep sending the funnies!

Wizardmon92: Dude, if you seriously want to use 'the Scribe'...well—good luck with that. Let me know how it turns out.

Lolopixie: For some reason, your pen name turns me on. (Brain: Perfectly understandable. Perverts have strange attractions...) Thanks for your very kind comments!

Visigoth: Ha! I'm back, and begging for more! Well, where is YOUR Raven story/thoughts on Raven? (Brain: They are stuck in his...)

Brain! That was not funny! But it was mildly amusing...

Kill LB: Hee hee! Me too!

Lightanddarklove: What INSTRUMENT are you playing with? I played Sax, Flute, and Bassoon. Thanks for the kind words—I really appreciate it.

Cmartist: Don't think you are the first one to try to talk Starfire into that...

PinkBlueLilac: Thanks! So, what are your favorite colors...?

Dear Raven,

Thank you for setting me back on the path of rightous living. I deserved the beatdown, and I appreciate your good intentions.

I am doing quite well, thank you.

My physical therapist says that he thinks I will be able to walk again, someday, if I keep up the exercises with the three-ounce ankle weights.

My EENT doctor says that I should be able to speak intelligibly after two more operations on my nasal cavity andor palate. The bone graft is taking very nicely.

I can now type with my fingers again, albeit with two fingers, on one hand, but hey—we should all be grateful for what we have, right?

My psych says that we—I mean me/I will soon be able to taper off to three antipsychotic/antidepression medications very soon—perhaps within a year or two. Happy day! She says at that point, she will be able to release me on 'the unsuspecting public'. She also said that after I get off the Lithium, I will probably stop drooling, and they will be able to work on my teeth. Best of all, I will be able to go to the bathroom all by myself, and not have to get all those enemas.

The good part is, whatever does not kill us makes us stronger. You have made me stronger,by not killing me! I no longer suffer from oppressive, irrational fears, tempting others to refer to me as a 'pussy.' I am totally unafraid of anything, other than your right hand.

So now I can speak the truth confidently. I love you, Raven. We were meant for each other. Think about it—how many other people have survived getting their ass soundly whipped by you, and lived to tell about it. Much less brag about it. Less yet, voluntarily offer to come back for more. Anyway, you could never hurt me that much again—I'm still on a continuous Morphine drip.

Hey—you did offer to meet me at 'The Boxcar' again, remember?

Look. I know we got off on the wrong foot, and all, but I really think I am a better person now. You have taught me so much about humility, and valuing life, and Gd knows, I will never, ever, forget it.

Sorry if this letter rambles a bit, but then, I'm a ramblin' kinda guy. Haha! (Apologies to you-know-who.)

Then again, I'm not sure if I'm rambling—I'm very fortunate to still be able to put together sentences of moderate length, with my brain still swelling. (They did, however, switch to a smaller-gauge cranial drain tube last week.)

What was I talking about, again? Oh, yeah. I love you, and want to see you. I love your brain. I love your wardrobe. I love your room. I love your hair. I love your breasts. I love your hips. I love my life, and I want to share it with you. After all, you do own me now, so to speak.

Oh, yeah. I love Curry, too. And I hate tofu. I love Goth-punk. Love off-beat coffee houses. Love alt. Music. Hate disco. Love cats. Hate preps.

See—it could work.

Think about it.

I mean it—this is not a joke. I love you, and want you. (You can do weird kinky things to me—there are lots of parts of my body that no longer have sensation!)

I am the Yin to your Yang.

You call the shot.

Everlasting thanks and love,

Vinnie

P.S. I make a clam sauce to die for...you know you want some.

Please write a sexy review! 'Brain' is threatening to pull the plug on my ventilator.

(Brain: Not funny!)

The ventilator reference?

(Brain: No--the telling on me part...Review! Or face the wrath of the one with no face!)