My dear Laurie,
I can't call you Hugh, since this name we share, as we share so much else.
It must be fate.
I've watched from afar as you've struggled against your feelings, and my darling I cannot let you suffer any longer.
The unlisted number, the doormen at your building, even your silly butler, these things were only meant to whet my desires.
And your plan has succeeded, silly boy.
If you hadn't meant for me to find you, you would have hidden better.
The little clues, the sweet hints, they were enough for my highly paid
search service to locate you, and now our long separation is nearly at
The messages you've slipped into your scripts, I've understood them all.
The scalpels are ready, and the bunny, and so am I.
Yours warmly, and forever.