Greetings

December 11, 2014

Dear Mr. Ewing Baldwin,

Greetings and congratulations! The Obamacare Death Panel (section 3, paragraph two) has noticed your posts from your sickbed on Facebook, including the sentence, “Please kill me.”

We’re pleased to inform you we have found the agency for the job, and you are already in their sights. Nice woods, by the way. As a friendly precaution—we know of Cold Feet Syndrome—we’re taken the liberty of removing your car. You have our word we will not kill you unless you come outside. Sorry about that morning newspaper!

Thanks to cooperation between government agencies, we have spied on you, stolen your health records, read your email and removed that obscenity you call a book, from Kindle. Oh yes, and that porn website you’re so fond of–we have removed that; God knows how long a man with a porn website might hold out. (Catholic schoolgirls, Mr. Baldwin? Really?)

We googled you, Mr. Baldwin, and find you have led a productive life and met many fascinating people, including freshman senator Barry Obama, a decade ago. You: impregnated five women back in the day, sold meth, ran a pirate ship out of Cuba, made a high score on Lumosity.com, played poker with Mao, set a world record in hopscotch, downed ten magic mushrooms and twerked for two solid weeks, interned with J. Christ (he said you were too good for him), made Scotch out of liquid soap and soap out of two week old Scotch, wove baskets, lived with a wolf pack until you were five, had affairs with all your high school teachers and “spiced” all the Spice Girls! Well done, old man (British “old man” not “old man” as in decrepit, broken, debauched, senectuous, hoary, fossil, or antideluvian)!

Advantages to dying now: No Christmas presents to buy! No fruitcake! No “Happy Holiday!” No “I’m not afraid to say Merry Christmas!” No friends with benefits with old, wrinkled German women! No Alton High School 50th reunion! No more Girl Scout cookies (not to mention Girl Scouts, naughty Mr. Baldwin)!

Would you like to know about your assassins? The GCCKKK (Godfrey Conceal Carry Kill Kale-eating Kooks) is your personal meat and potatoes! They see you when you’re sleeping, they know when you’re awake, they know you have never been good and now it’s just too late!

It is your call, Mr. Baldwin. Jingle rock your house! Run outside right now and our night vision scopes will find your skinny little ass. You’ll be dead before you can say, “pop-pop-pop-pop-pop!”

Sincerely, Chelsea Clinton

Secretary, Obamacare Death Squad

PS How do you pronounce Ewing? Ewe-ing? Ee-wing? Edwing? Ew-Ei-Ng? A-E-I-O-U-wing?

About Eugene Jones Baldwin

I am a writer: non-fiction, fiction, journalism (Alton Telegraph), essays (The Genehouse Chronicles) and have a website: eugenebaldwin.com. I've published a couple dozen short stories and had eleven plays produced. Current projects: "Brother of the Stones" (available on Kindle), a book of short stories; "The Faithful Husband of the Rain, short stories"; "A Black Soldier's Letters Home, WWII,;" "There is No Color in Justice," a commentary on racism; "Ratkillers," a new play. I am an avocational archaeologist and I take parts of my collection of several thousand Indian artifacts (personal finds) to schools, nature centers, libraries etc. and talk about the 20,000 year history of The First people in Illinois. (See link to website) I'm also a playwright (eleven plays produced), musician, historian (authority on the Underground Railroad in Illinois, the Tuskegee Airmen) and teacher.
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