Ronald Rabbit Is a Dirty Old Man

25

From the desk of Clayton Finch, President

Mr. Laurence Clarke

74 Bleecker Street

New York 10012

Dear Mr. Clarke:

You go too far, Mr. Clarke.

I had begun to think that this unilateral war directed against me was over. It seems you are determined to persist in it. As the result of your latest folly, I found myself entangled in a completely hysterical conversation with a person named Ribbentraub, who wanted to know why I wanted to hire some Puerto Rican janitor as a magazine editor. I had a great deal of trouble disengaging myself from this lunatic but ultimately managed to convince him of what I suspected myself, that the whole affair was the result of an innocent misunderstanding.

Innocent!

Mr. Ribbentraub, however, was not so easily put off. He promptly mailed me a letter which he had received, typed on my own letterhead with my own signature rather inexpertly forged on the bottom of it. I might still have been in the dark but for your use of the Rachel Rabbit’s nonsense, which instantly identified the perpetrator of the deed as yourself.

I could even forgive this last, Clarke, but for an even more grievous effort on your part, which I uncovered only through further communication with poor Ribbentraub. I called him to attribute this madness to you, and to persuade him to give me your forwarding address. This he did, and I thus discovered that you had the temerity to supply him with the address of my secretary, Miss Gumbino.

For heaven’s sake, Clarke, what’s the point of this sort of nonsense? Why besmirch the name of an innocent girl simply to gratify your sense of the ridiculous? It accomplishes absolutely nothing. No one is fooled by your little performances, no one at all. I’m happy to report that I passed this information on to Miss Gumbino, who as you may well imagine was roundly shocked by what you attempted to imply. Fortunately, however, she was able to tell me that there have been no repercussions from your little prank, and that you have ceased to press your unwelcome attentions upon her. Perhaps you do have some element of decency in you. Hardly an abundance thereof, but some.

Nevertheless, you have gone too far, as I said above. I am thus obliged to tell you that, in the seemingly unlikely event that you eventually bestir yourself to seek gainful employment, it will no longer be possible for this office to provide you with a favorable reference.

How on earth did you manage to filch my personal letterhead, Clarke? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to hear from you or of you ever again. While I cannot go so far as to say that I wish your death, I must allow that your obituary is one I would read with some pleasure.

I am sending this letter to your old address. I assume you did not play the same odd prank on the Post Office that you visited upon Mr. Ribbentraub, and that this will reach you in due course.

CF/rg