Water Under the Bridge Letter 5

Lout,

I gather from your reply to my first letter that your parents disapprove of my missive born education for your advancement in social inadequacy.

          Well, Lout, I think your parents’ distrust of my qualifications is a sham for something deeper. My relationship with Mingo and Droodida has always been unhealthily friendly.

          As trollmutts Mingo and I and our brother Dingo were inseparable for a short time due to a glue gun malfunction. But after that Dingo was a good brother, giving out wedgies and dropping mud on us as often as possible, he was a true troll.

          But I’m sad to say Lout, that your father was unusual bad as a child. He was never a bully at school, and even when the Skool children begged him to shove their heads down toilets; he only gave them severe wet willies.

          And he was always nice to me! I couldn’t understand it. As the youngest, I was the stereotypical punching back, for stench’s sake! Everyone else was good! They kicked, slapped and hung me over deep wells! But he only ever set fire to my bed, by mistake too!

          Sorry Lout, I’m always a bit traumatized when I remember. But you must realize why Mingo does not want me as a contact, it reminds him of his child where he failed to be a true delinquent!

          I will be the first to say that he improved later in life, far exceeding the exploits of Dingo who unfortunately got eaten in Australia due to a misunderstanding, but his childhood is still stained by that slight good nature.

          So I have decided to begin contacting you in secret, my nephew, so not to upset your parents any further.

          Now my messenger pigeon shall only fly at night, in a lack leotard, and shall pretend to be shot down by arrows to confuse any surveillance just as it is reaching your swamp, and then spiral down limply through your window, landing in a perfect cartwheel that will send my letter spinning from its leg into your outstretched mitt.

          That procedure should be sufficient to debunk any suspicions that might have aroused by a normal pigeon.

          My quill is running low, and my castle’s getting nearer to a town with a good ink factory. Do you want anything Lout? Send a quick pigeon and I might be able to steal something appropriate.

          But I must go now,

          Your affectionate and only uncle,

          Bingo Gobspit

          P.S. I’ll get to my unfortunate involvement with your mother next time.

          Pee-Pee. S. Do you like Spearmint Gum? I’ve just raided a merchant ship found a sunken treasure ship, and it’s got a massive store of the stuff. I’ve enclosed some, just in case. Forgive the sogginess.

Water Under the Bridge's Letter 2

The second letter ever to be shoehorned from the world of troll's, gruff billy goats and floating river castles; ladies and gentlemen...

LETTER TWOOO!!!

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Lout,

As a household contractor troll, over the years I have learned the right time for everything. The right time to abduct a hot rolls stand is when the proprietor has been clouted by a sandbag, for instance. The right time to invade a riverside village, pillage, plunder and buy their land at lowered tax rates is after extended siege and aerial bombardment.

            The list carries on Lout, but the most important time for you seems to be upon you. Your adolescent years, when your tender childhood of rule flouting grows into fully fledged disobedience!

          This is a delicate and all-important phase of your rise into adulthood, and we must work hard to retain your immaturity throughout your life, or you shall not succeed in it!

          Take me for example, a strapping troll with no great failing, stringent modesty and a successful home contractor and river pirate!

          My contact will be indispensible to your growing body and mind, and I shall take pride in over lording your entire life.

          Perhaps you’re wondering why such a troll as myself has never contacted you before, besides that condolence card filled with termites after you broke your toe last year.

          Well Lout, I travel a lot, what with my home being a floating castle, I get round, going many places to look at new lands for development and avoiding ornery pitchfork mobs.

          But now I’ve drifted your way, and just in time too, it seems. It appears that I am your only remaining uncle and objective life instructor, your others having died off long ago from strange causes.

          Old Ebenezer who thought mine shafts were portals to other worlds, your uncle Minto Funkmiester who was bitten by a spider and died of shame because it didn’t give him superpowers…and even your grand-uncle Beelzum Bumbust didn’t do a day in jail and was disowned by the family.

          As to the rumors and gossip that have come about concerning that lout (forgive the expression) Ferkil Gruntsnort’s supposed relation to you, they are only rumors.

          I am your only remaining uncle! Your advancement into illegitimate life can only flourish with a true veteran to teach it.

          Now, first we should find out what basic petty skills you possess or should gain.

          Loitering and Lollygagging: Always a good fallback for any day of objective uselessness, though if possible you should do it at school to increase your social standing.

          Chore Avoidance: I have heard from your mother that you are acing this requirement, and I hear your excuses for not taking out the trash cauldron are second to none.

          Bullying: Sadly you seem to be very lax in this ultra-important part of your personal evolvement, I have even read a report from your school including the fact that several schoolmates waved at you without you giving them wedgies.

          Overall Filth and BO: Every troll must have his own personal gut wrenching smell, and none should be seen in public without several layers of muck on them, call me a traditionalist.

          Disgusting Habits: Pick your nose Lout! For goodness sakes! This is possibly the most important skill a young troll can possess, and you must rise to the requirement! Armpit noises seem to be the rage at the moment, though I believe you should invest in ill timed farts, as they will soon come back into style.

          I think we will leave it at that for now Lout, I should give you some time to absorb and adapt, wouldn't like to overcrowd you too soon.

          Just a few last pieces of everyday advice. Ferkil is not your uncle, it’s the truth. If he tries to convince you with immoral papers and stuff, burn them to cinders and slam the weeds in his face.

Also, forget to brush your teeth every morning, let loose toads into your parents’ bedcave at strategic times, and always, always avoid goats with siblings.

          Until your reply I remain your affectionate uncle,

          “Honest” Bingo Gobspit