Which Came First: The Letter Or The Word?

gavin cardigan walked into the Pub and hung up his hat.

"hey, gavin. where'd you get the hat?" danny blake asked from behind the bar as he poured a beer.

"it's the one the Lurker made for me in an unpublished chapter a couple of years ago."

"oh, yeah. i forgot all about that chapter. so, how about some chipotle pork enchiladas?"

"mmm, rolled or stacked?"

"stacked," danny replied as he handed him a beer.

"throw a fried egg on top and i'm sold," cardigan winked and walked back to join his friends.

"have a seat gavin," sierra kicked a chair out for him. "marian is going to read us the latest letter she got for her column."

"ahem," marian elfman, author of the syndicated advice column Don't Be So Melodramatic! began.

"ducky," taylor whispered to her. "you don't actually say the word ahem. you're just supposed to clear your throat."

"throat-clearing noises are gross," marian declared. "i prefer the word ahem."

"i agree with marian," sierra said approvingly. "ahem is much more elegant."

"we should do that with other words," Mysterious Lurker suggested. "such as saying belch instead of making belching noises."

"and saying delicious instead of making smacking noises of approval," danny added as he delivered cardigan's enchiladas. "i'm always afraid of spittle when they do that."

"ooh, that's a good one!" said sierra. "people should just say spit instead of actually spitting."

"you realize that we're fictional and we never actually make those sounds anyway, right? all we do is describe them, so we're already doing what you're suggesting," gavin noted, making smacking noises of approval as he ate his enchiladas.

marian glared at him. "don't say stuff like that, gavin! now, ahem:

Dear Marian,
My fiance wants me to sign a pre-nuptial agreement. I wouldn't mind this so much except for one thing: I make more money than he does, I have greater opportunity for career advancement than he does, and my family is wealthier than his. Why should I sign a pre-nup when he has no wealth to protect?! If anything, I should have him sign a pre-nup to protect my wealth! He said it's a way for him to save face with his family. I say he's an idiot. What do you say?
Signed,
How Can I Be A Gold Digger When I Own A Platinum Mine?

"idiot," everyone present said at once.

marian nodded. "i agree. that was an easy one! also," she added, "he shouldn't be so melodramatic!"

tucker laughed. "hahaha, i love your column! it's a rich source of material."

he strummed his guitar and began singing:

dear marian, dear marian
my life is a mess
how i screwed up my laundry
is anyone's guess
my buttons are missing
my underwear shrunk
my shirts are all wrinkled
and smell like a skunk
signed, disheveled

disheveled, disheveled
you have no complaints
you are what you are
and you ain't what you ain't
so, listen up, buster
and listen up good
stop wishing for bad luck
and knocking on wood
and don't be so melodramatic!

marian made indignant faces as the others laughed and called for more.

dear marian, dear marian
my husband's a jerk
he takes all these pills
'cause he's allergic to work
he asks pretty co-eds
to come baby-sit
that wouldn't be so bad
if we only had kids
signed, good-hearted

good-hearted, good-hearted
you have no complaint
you are what you are
and you ain't what you ain't
so, listen up, buster
and listen up, good
stop wishing for bad luck
and knocking on wood
and don't be so melodramatic!

marian hmph'd as everyone sang the last line together and called for more.

dear marian, dear marian
i need your advice
i teach high school english
my students have lice
they're rude and belligerent
and smell like stale beer
they disrupt my class
and make fun of shakespeare
signed, frustrated

frustrated, frustrated
you have no complaint
you are what you are
and you ain't what you ain't
so, listen up, buster
and listen up good
stop wishing for bad luck
and knocking on wood
and don't be so melodramatic!

shakespeare walked over to collect the dirty dishes and joined marian in an indignant hmph and muttered, "as flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport."

**note: apologies to the great john prine for butchering his song Dear Abby.