Dear A. Deer,
I will trade places with you any day. You may have suv’s but try dealing with a fricking pride of lions! And what most people don’t know, the lions like to sing show tunes as they eat you. Imagine watching your cousin being eaten by lions singing selections from Lerner and Loew’s Camelot. It’s disgusting. Not to mention the fact that they have no sense of rhythm.
Yours in Christ
Zebra
Dear Deer,
We, on the other hand, have huge self esteem issues, and are just depressed that we’re so damned ugly.
We cross the asphalt strips ON PURPOSE.
Sincerely,
O. Possum
Dear Deer et al:
Could you please stand about 50 yards south of my stand at about 7:00 am on Monday morning? I have some papers for you to sign.
Madd Maxx’s .270
Dear Mrs. Deer,
Thank you for stopping, oh so briefly, next to that tree. For you see, that was the moment I needed to put that .32 caliber bullet through your heart and lung. I thought you would like to know your 2 young escaped safely back into the woods.
My uncle asked me to shoot you because he has lost about 7 wagon loads of corn due to your prolific feeding and that of your brethren. There are just too many of you around. I gave you the quickest death I know how to administer and I know you did not suffer long. My family and I are grateful for the sustenance you will provide us this winter.
Sincerely, Me.
P.S. Your tenderloins, medallioned, wrapped in bacon, and served with a claret reduction were excellent fare when served with wilted spinach and roasted acorn squash.
Dear deer:
What’s this about you crossing the road? Is it possible to do this and not get killed?
A. Raccoon
Dear Deer and Racoon,
You want to cross the road? And get to the other side?
I’ll let you know how to do it. It’s pretty funny.
Signed,
A. Chicken
To you cannibalistic bastards who will be eating my brethren this Thursday.
Be oh so advised that when WE cross the highway, we have learned that the asphalt is not conductive to good traction, thus, when you spot a flock of us running up a hill, headed for the shoulder of the road, and you’re thinking that…eh, it’s no different than hitting a cat…we ain’t as big as Mr. Deer…we have a tendency to take flight as we cross over. Be further advised, that we will be flying at windshield height.
Try dodging THAT!
Bastards.
Tommy Turkey
Dear A. Turtle,
I’m sorry I ran over you on I-40, but maybe a turtle shouldn’t even try to cross the interstate. And your death was meaningless, as you are about 70 years too late for it to have even been a metaphor for something.
Dear asterion,
Well, at least that’s a lesson learnt.
Tortoise N. Othing.
Dear Baby Seal, Wooly Mammoth, Mr. Dodo Bird,
If you are having such difficulties in your area, I highly encourage you to move.
Sincerely,
Ivory Billed Woodpecker.