Some say that he once drank the remnants of rocket fuel that propelled his ships to our solar system and that oddly, his penis is luminescent...
All we know for certain is that he's called MadMikeMarsbergen...
"MadMike,
You speak for your people, yes? You speak for the peoples of this insignificant, feeble planet you so unimaginatively refer to as 'Earth?'
If that is true then tell your people this...
We're here."
—Yours, Anon. Y. Mous
Quiet, Frenchie. If I told you once, I told you twenty fucking times: I'll pay you for that twenty-foot stick of French bread when I get paid for my last sperm donation. I'm good for it; you know I am. This ain't the first time, Mr. Mous. I just need to hound the secretary a bit more and maybe inject her with my jism. Her hubbie shoots blanks and they both want a brilliant baby. Just give me a few days and I'll work out some kind of deal with her.
Oh, and if you don't mind, please don't plaster my photos around town this time, okay? It took a long time for people to forget I'm the guy who stuck a baguette down his pants and tried to walk out the store...
"Dear Maddest of Mikes
I reckon I'm being watched. I mean, right, I don't even have a cat and yet when I got up this morning, well I say this morning it was prob'ly closer to 1pm 'cos y'know, I'm on the Social and whatnot but anyways, when I got up this morning there's a fucking cat drinking a fucking saucer of milk in my fucking kitchen... Bastard thing won't go away, either. Seriously man I've even microwaved the shit - on the defrost setting, of course... I'm not a fucking monster! - and it still keeps coming back for more.
I've been on the Interwebs and it seems cats do this kinda' shit all the time but I tell you bra'ah... It even watches me when I rub one out, like now... It's watching me now and I swear down the little furry bastard can read my thoughts..."
—Yours, with potential paranoid delusions
That's not a cat, Yours. That's an alien! But, of course, it's not common knowledge, but all cats are aliens. Oh, sure, science claims they have a common mammalian ancestor that looks like a cross between a cat, a dog and a rat, but that's just the aliens planting phony evidence.
There is one way to skin a cat. You could try feeding it and patting it. Kill it with kindness. At some point it'll get so fat and loved it'll die in peace. Might take fifteen years or so—I don't know how old it is—but it'll happen eventually.
The good news is you'll get great stock with the alien invaders. They might even probe you with their spiky tongues.
"Dearest valued customer.
From your friends Larry, Daryl and Darryl
Hi, its me your friend Larry. You may remember me from your recent visit to the Stratford Inn here in Vermont. You were here to purchase one of Dr. Freakinstien's 'Make your own Zombie kit'. We hope your had great success in your endeavours.
Well as you may have heard me and my brother Daryl and my other brother Darryl had recently been busy as beavers beset by bees with the exploring of a cave we had found. Now Daryl had initially suggested that we use a conservative approach to our spelunking activities. I myself had advocated for the proper scientific approach. But my other brother Darryl had always had a taste for the dramatic, and so he used some dynamite to open a small passage that both Daryl and I had thought was an opening into a larger chamber.
