How You Can Be a Hero!

I've noticed that in my preface to the first installment of The Journal of Bloody Mary Jane, I used the word approbation where I actually intended to say opprobrium, which is pretty much the exact opposite. A relatively minor error, and one I wouldn't lose any sleep over-- if I were working for anybody but Mary Jane Gallows. It is too much to hope that she won't notice it, so I am making a public mea culpa here, and will hope for the best. Maybe she'll be in a good mood, but I can't help looking over my shoulder. I suppose one inevitably runs certain risks when one agrees to act as the literary agent for a woman who is the immortal, indestructible, supernatural daughter of Lizzie Borden and Jack the Ripper, and has, over the past 122 years, killed more people than most of us have had hot dinners.

She can be volatile at times, but I think she has mellowed a bit over the last 60 or 70 years. As she mentioned to me recently, decapitating Hitler with her bare hands was very cathartic and relieved her of a great deal of free-floating hostility.

So, I am taking this opportunity to publicly acknowledge my error and to offer my sincere apologies to the reading public and also to... uh, one of the most dangerous creatures ever to walk the earth, who also happens to be a stickler for detail and has never been known to tolerate even the slightest blunder from anybody in her employ.

Yeah.

If this turns out to be my final post, I feel certain that my body will never be found. So please make a memorial contribution to the charity of your choice, in lieu of flowers. And do not investigate my disappearance if you want to keep the body count down to one...

Hey, I just got an idea! I probably shouldn't ask, but... Gosh, it strikes me that the more copies we sell, the less likely Miss Gallows is to vent her spleen or anything else on me. So... Could you go buy one right now? They're just 99 cents, you know. Surely that isn't too much for you to pay to help save a man's life, is it? You... may be my only hope. And not only that, but you get a swell story, too! 

Did I mention that she once lifted a grown man above her head and propelled him through a cinder block wall? Head first. With one hand. 

She did that. He got the words inferred and implied mixed up.

So... Think about it, will you? Don't think for too long, though... I thought I heard something at the door just now... 

Yours Uncertainly,
Chuck Miller 
  
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