Arnold,
I know your off bonding with your parents or whatever, but I figured by now you might be missing me and needing some Helga G. Pataki-isms to get you through your now-perfect life you got going for yourself.
In case you were wondering, I'M doing fine. Not like you've asked or even thought twice about me I'm sure. Not like I've thought twice about YOU. Why would I think about YOU? I mean, CRIMINY, life has been SWELL without you.
Heck, life has been downright specTACULAR now that YOU and your stupid footballhead have finally stopped blocking my view in Economics.
I do kind of miss the target practice, though. Especially since your buddy Geraldo just isn't as good a sport as you, what can I say. If it is ONE thing you were good for, its that do-gooder thing you always did and your 'positive attitude.'
Gerald just gives me attitude and it really puts a damper on the art of spitballing.
So thanks for ruining THAT.
Anyway, I'm sure this letter won't even get to you since I'm probably just gonna crumple this up in-
On cue, I rip the paper from my notebook and smash it into a tightly-wadded ball and toss it into my trashcan sitting next to the desk I was seated at.
"Like I said," i grumbled to myself in the darkness of my room, "Thanks for ruining…everything."
As if Arnold and his beautiful oblong-shaped head could hear me through spoken correspondence half-way across the WORLD.