Ask the Unknown
An Advice Column for Those Who Cant Be Bothered
Dear Mr. Unknown,
I never thought I would be writing to advice columnists who started out
as world-famous hypertext novelists, but you know
what they say, if we knew what we were going to do or what was going to
happen most of us would probably be paralyzed by depression and/or fear.
I know I would. Anyway, Im writing about my boss, who also happens
to be my landlord, and were engaged, too. With three cats.
And a hamster, Hammy. At least we used to have
a hamster. Its been missing for several days and thats why
Im writing. Lately, Ive come to believe that my boss, Myrtle,
killed Hammy. And ate him. I think she cooked it first, but I cant
be certain. I dont really have any proof, but Myrtle
seems singularly unaffected by Hammys disappearance and keeps making
sick jokes about Hammy-burgers and asking supposedly theoretical
questions like why it is that pot pies always are made out of chicken
or beef but never, say, hamster or parakeet. Im worried about our
cats, Mr. Unknown, but dont know how to talk to Myrtle
about my concerns. She has quite a temper sometimes. I need my
job and I dont want to spoil the wedding
because Myrtle is a nice person really, even if she did kill
Hammy. Accidentally, Im sure. What do you think I should do?
Man, what a depressing life. You dont say whether you have a computer,
but Im guessing not since your letter was written in lipstick and
charcoal (hey, sharpen those briquettes
a little more next time, Knotboy, your handwriting is way too hard to
read as it is). Anyway, if you dont have a computer, go out and
buy an iMac immediately and plug into the Net. Log onto The Unknown
and immediately go to
winelist.htm. Buy some of the recommended beverages.
Imbibe. Continue reading The Unknown. If the spirit moves you,
sample some of the other controlled substances
mentioned in the hypertext. Continue reading The Unknown. And dont
bother writing again. I could give a hamsters ass.