To the one under the name 'Author of Book'-

Excuse me, but who are you? Why did you send me a telegram? I didn't write a Handbook. What are you talking about?


If you correspond with me any longer I'll have the law on you! My mill is far too busy to associate with low-life pranksters like you!

In aggravation,

Patrick Terrence

Terrence Mills

What a nice man. I'll have to put him on my list of people to send Christmas cards to this year.

Horace Sanvercio was a squirrel. He was also a Martian, a thief, a liar, a cheat, a fool, a jailbird, and the third in the group of Writers this Book is about.

Nobody could figure him out. In his lifetime, Horace Sanvercio had visited one hundred and twenty-eight different psychologists and left each one of them either baffled, furious, or in a closet with duct tape on his mouth and his valuables mysteriously missing.

The police hated him. No matter how many times he was caught- fourteen, last time they counted- Horace Sanvercio always escaped. They didn't know how he did it, but they suspected it had something to do with all of the bungee jumping lessons he had had when he was very young.

His favorite pastime was stepping on keyboards to see what amusing things the printers would give him. (He preferred pens and paper.)

He had no records of ever being born, so in addition to being a 'Martian', he did not exist.

He had a strange fascination for wires.

All in all, Horace Sanvercio was a Very Strange man.

Very Strange indeed.

Darling Miss Alice Riddink,

How unfortunate it is that I have not been able to keep in touch with you! How I have longed to hear your sweet, sweet voice, and to look upon your gloriously beautiful face, and to whisper-

The point of the matter is, there's someone I need for you to kill. Does the name Waters ring a bell?

Let's meet in Prince Edward Island so you can pick him off, and then you and I can go to a fancy restaurant, and I will be able to see your perfect self again.


With much affection,

Author of Book

P.S. If you don't want to go on a date, that's fine with me. Just to let you know, I am very rich. I commonly carry around rubies in my wallet. And I live in a very large mansion which you may drop by at any time. In fact, I'll give it to you. It's all yours. No, really, and I only do things like this for Very Special Friends. You're my best friend. Honest.