Dear Mr. Baldwin

Dear Mr. Baldwin,

Since you enrolled in Medicare, a mere fourteen months ago, we find that you have broken four ribs, a collarbone, one neck vertabrae, and your right foot. You have exceeded the amount of injuries for which you are eligible.

This to inform you, your Obamacare Death Panel has convened and gone over your case. It is our decision that an assassin will kill you prior to July 1. You may choose between a.) shooting b.) garroting c.) poison or d.) Michele Bachmann talking you to death. You may elect to be killed by a.) a professional b.) a friend c.) an old girlfriend or d.) Michele Bachmann.

As part of your Obamacare package, you may be sexually gratified one time by a.) Jennifer Lawrence b.) the U.C.L.A. women’s volleyball team c.) Beyonce* or d.) Michele Bachmann. *Extra fee for leggy singing

Since you cannot afford to be buried or even cremated, we will be mummifying and displaying your naked body, as a cautionary tale about alcohol and self abuse, in a.) a Catholic girls’ school b.) the National Penis Museum c.) the Dave Mungenast Chevrolet showroom in St. Louis d.) Michelle Bachmann’s senatorial office.

As you may have heard, God sits on the Obamacare Death Panel. It is His directive that you a.) roast in Hell b.) watch “Beverly Hillbillies” reruns for eternity c.) have a second life as a castrati in ancient Rome d.) join the Tea Party and have endless two-way seafood buffets with Anne Coulter and Michele Bachmann

Sincerely,

Chelsea Clinton

p.s. All your writing will be published by Random House, after your death.

C. C.

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