Dearest Mr. Hawkeye,

It's been almost two and a half weeks since I wrote to you last time. I'm terribly sorry for violating our agreement like that, but I had a huge pile of bills to pay and couldn't afford internet for a while. It's all settled now, next time I'll try being more accurate with both my emails to you as well as with my budget allocation.

I know that you wish to remain anonymous and will never answer me back, but I have a very important question to ask: ARE YOU BALD?

I had a dream about you the other night and you looked just like Fester Adams in it. Now I can't get that image of you out of my head. Repondez, s'il vous plait! You don't even have to answer this yourself; just let that lawyer of yours, Michael Coleman, send me a note. He can just state: Mr. Smith is quite bald, or Mr. Smith is not bald, or Mr. Smith has a bush of hair on his head.

By the way, I fell down the stairs a couple of days ago. But don't you worry; nothing serious – just couple of broken ribs and some bruises. You ought to see my inner thigh! It's blue and mahogany with little streaks of orange. My health insurance expired a long time ago so I didn't go to the doctor. Daryl gave me some strange pills to ease the pain. Great stuff, nothing hurts now and I feel a bit lightheaded, if you know what I mean. ;) Guess he got those from Merle's drug stash. Not that I mind. Daryl is a real human being – not a Dixon at all.

As for my unlucky fall, I think that someone pushed me from behind, although I don't remember anything clearly – must have hit my head pretty hard after all. Maggie Greene (our landlord's eldest daughter) found me lying unconscious at the end of the staircase. She and Rick helped me get back to my apartment. After that, Rick went all straight into police officer mode and asked me a couple of questions, but unfortunately I couldn't help him much.

Dale is very disturbed by this accident. He is convinced that someone did it on purpose. Well, if someone in fact did it, than it was definitely on purpose. No doubts about that. I would've suspected Merle Dixon, but the man is no longer with us. Hooray!

No, he is not dead, as you might have assumed. The guy came to the conclusion that the atmosphere of this apartment complex had become inimical to the maintenance of friendly relations between him and other tenants. In other words, according to Daryl, he got fed up with the sorry pricks around here and moved out. To be fair, the elder Dixon had his reasons for that. The man almost lost his right hand because of us. As you know, I'm not the biggest fan of Merle but even I feel a bit sorry for him.

I guess you're eager to know how it all happened. Well, remember I'd mentioned our elevator that never worked properly? You may surely blame that monster for everything. Perhaps it also had a grudge against Merle. A vindictive machine, like in those lame horror movies. Anyway, let's get back to the part about Merle losing his hand.

A couple of weeks ago, Merle wanted to use the elevator, but it had been already overloaded – Rick, T-Dog and Andrea got there first. Although I don't understand why people take the risk, the thing is not safe – I always prefer the stairs. Anyway, someone (Andrea insisted it was T-Dog) pushed the button to close the doors in front of him. Merle tried to stop them by slipping his hand in between the shutting doors, but it wasn't the brightest idea at all, as it turned out, because the doors didn't open. You'd think that was bad enough. Well, there's worse to come. The elevator started to move up!

I happened to be in the lobby at the time and witnessed the whole thing; it wasn't pretty. At one precise moment, I actually was on the verge of either fainting or puking my guts out. Yet, I did try to help the unfortunate racist retrieve his hand back. The limb in question was severely damaged but, hey, at least it wasn't completely cut off. And you know what was most annoying? Merle accused me of his injuries. What kind of logic is that?! I wasn't even in that stupid elevator! Hell is paved with good intentions, as they say…

Anyway, I called the ambulance and that ungrateful asshole was rushed to the hospital where they managed to save his hand. Merle didn't stay there long though, he took off without an official discharge from his doctor. Daryl regards that as another display of his brother's toughness. I'd say that's a vivid display of his dumbness. Then again, who am I to judge? :-/

Oh, I forgot to tell you the main news of the week – it looks like I and Daryl are becoming friends. He checked on me after my accident and, as I'd already mentioned above, offered me some medicine. That was really nice and neighborly of him! He also informed me that Merle moved out. Have no idea why he felt like he had to tell me about that. I certainly won't miss the guy. Good riddance.

Actually, I heard them fighting right before Daryl's visit to my place. Perhaps they were arguing about whose turn it was to make the squirrel stew. Hunting is their hobby, so they indulge themselves with such culinary extravaganza from time to time. It's not like I'm spying on them or anything; I know this because of the disgusting smell from their kitchen. I had to air out my apartment for hours after that.

Be that as it may, whatever the reason for Merle's decision to move away was, I'm glad. I think that he was a bad influence on Daryl, although the latter seems to miss him, which is sort of sad. :( Then again, according to Dale, Daryl might soon change his status of a lonely bachelor. The old man saw him buying flowers for Carol. By the way, she appealed against the court decision concerning the custody over her daughter. We all hope Carol wins this time.

I don't know why but that thought disturbs me a little. Not the part about Sophia, but the one about Daryl and Carol. I'm a horrid person. I should be happy for both of them. Probably it's just my envy talking, haven't got laid for a while now. I guess it's time to get back into the dating business again. Maybe I should try one of those online dating sites? Then again, no one knows what sort of pervert one might find there. Better rule out that option, just to be on the safe side.

Let's hope I'll meet someone at the Marvel Universe Convention that takes place in Atlanta this month. Oh, that reminds me, I need to buy a trench coat - want to cosplay Gambit. Do you wish to join me? We could make great impersonations of Hawkeye and Gambit together! Wouldn't that be amazing? :)

Damn it. The drugs are wearing out. My chest is hurting again, better go take some more pills and then lie down, try to get some sleep.

Yours, about to get high, Gambit.