Dear Abby 2099

by Barrett Brown

Dear Abby - January 6, 2099

ear Abby: I’m a divorced nano-hermaphrodite of Venusian descent, who recently began dating a great guy I’ll call “Klimporthia Maximus IV, Master of the Crab Nebula and Seizer of a Trillion Souls.” Abby, Klimporthia is everything I’ve always looked for in a mate - he’s dashing, spontaneous, owns his own home, and is capable of transmutating the life force of any sentient being into a collection of sub-atomic particles capable of existing in twelve dimensions at once. He’s also Catholic. Because Klimporthia is sterile due to a ritual he undertook as a poddling warrior-priest, the two of us make a big effort to stay in the lives of my children from the previous marriage.

The problem is “Kate,” my ex-husband’s new wife. Kate can’t stand me, and she seems to hold some sort of grudge against Klimporthia, possibly because he accidentally ate one of her fingers when the two first met (Kate thinks he did it on purpose, which is just absurd). Kate’s bizarre behavior is even interfering with my relationship with the kids - several times, she’s taken them on trips during weekends when we have visitation rights, and even though we send the kids nice birthday gifts every year, we have yet to receive even one “thank-you” note, and I know I taught them better than that.

Abby, I don’t want to interfere with my ex’s marriage, but Kate’s erratic attitude is driving me nuts! How can I keep up a relationship with the kids without coming off like another spiteful ex-wife?

-”Trying to Be Civil in Neo-Seoul”

Dear “Trying”: This “Kate” you speak of must be destroyed.

Were I unfortunate enough to be in your situation - a weak-minded, confused fleshling, her actions placed in check by her own alterable limitations, her children fetched from her grasp by a vicious usurper - you can be certain that I would be quick to have this woman seized by nano-automatons created within the bowels of the massive processing facility that I control from my core CPU. Thereafter, this “Kate” would be placed within a matter-retainment matrix, her brain hooked into a perception inducing unit - itself set to induce nightmarish hallucinations and unimaginable pain in its subject - and the entire thing encased in adamantium and placed forty miles beneath the surface of the Earth, where “Kate” would thus spend all of eternity in torment so unthinkably severe that it cannot be described.

As for the children who fail to write “thank-you” cards after receiving annual material contributions from their biological ancestors, I’d suggest that for next year’s round of birthdays, you send each child a pleasant card with the message, “Wasn’t sure if you got our gift last year - we didn’t hear from you.” They’ll get the picture.