Well I promised to do FAN MAIL on Saturday's. I don't joke, I never joke, I don't think I've ever told a joke before in my life. I bet... that I don't even know what a joke is. Oh well! Now... I have no mail... What? I don't have any mail... this chapter is pointless! You have all failed me as readers! If you 'read' my story, you 'read' my author's note, so you 'read' I was going to do fan mail! Just send me a nice message like...

'I enjoy your stories Static! Please don't you ever give up! Your the best around!' signed...Not Static Wielder (It's not me... Tee Hee)

Or... you could just send me something funny and not even remotely related to the story like...

'Do you like pears?'

No I hate pears! It's one of 3 things I truly hate in this world! The others are those jack in the box toys and I hate bugs. I truly do. But it's not the regular kind of hate... no... if I see them, I want to kill them. It's just me! So I kill pears for a living. I hate pears! Seriously people! Help me out here! Let me know if you still read my stories! LET ME KNOW! If I don't know, I have no reason to write, and if I don't write, you no get to read. No get to? Don't get to no? No! Bad grammar! *sigh* My first Fan Mail chapter *sniff*... and it was a failure!

I don't ask for much... I really don't! I just wanted some mail... hell I'd even start working on my blog! *sigh* There goes my day... nice one guys. And girls. Reeeaaaallll... funny. I'm so fucking sad right now. You've all single handily ruined my Saturday... so give yourself some applause! Yeah! *clap clap clap* Let us toast! *raises Coke Cola* To ruining Static's Saturday!

...Dammit. What am I going to do now? I just can't believe I was so let down... all I wanted, right, was to do a new little thing with my stories. I can't even do that now. I'll try this again next week I guess... and if I don't get any mail again... I'm never doing it again. :'( Just send in as many letters as you want, I'll choose my favorite ones, comment on them, and we'll all be happy. You know what I'm going to do now? Because since every single one of you readers out there didn't do one simple thing... I have to resort to drastic measures.

If I don't get any mail... then I'm going to stick my dick in a fire-ant hill, probably lose it, get infected (also I'm allergic) and die. There. No more stories. Just a dead, dickless man who wanted some mail. I have to end every chapter with a joke. Even though in the first paragraph I said I don't know what a joke is... what's a joke? Whatever, that's not important. What's important is that we all learned a valuable lesson... I hope... I mean how hard can it be? I'm writing a letter to myself right now to make you all feel bad for what you have done to me.

Dear Static Wielder, you have such a shitty life. None of your readers or followers will even right you a letter. They don't care about you. Why do you continue to write shitty stories if no one gives a fuck?

That was actually kinda hurtful other me...

Your better off dead!

Your seriously hurting me! *cough* Ow.... oh your words are hurtful... I'm having heart pains, heart palpitations. Your giving me heart palpitations other me!

No one gives a shit about you!

I don't have to take this shit from you! I brought you into this world, I sure as hell can take you out!

What is that your holding?

Bomb. I planted it in your lunch. *pushes button, nothing happens.* What? Aw... dammit. Wrong casserole.

BWAHAHAHA! he jumps onto a blimp and slowly flies away. You'll never get me Static Wielder! You may call me Discharge! I shall forever mess with your story and it's inhabitants![

Oh you can't be serious...

"No... but I'll help with the author notes. Ta ta!"

Nooo! You rat bastard!

Will Static ever get happy? Will his evil twin not fuck with the Author Notes? Will we ever get fan mail? Stay tuned!

There... does that satisfy your itch? I ended up writing a conflict.

Actually if you could reach down...

Whoa! Not safe for work pal... so send me your mail people! Or I will do more drastic things.

We had to change the context of the words for this paragraph. The author (NAME CLASSIFIED) known as Static Wielder, had a massive rage quit so he hobbled outside to beat a tree with his crutch. He's also threatened to beat us with a toaster if we fuck with it, on multiple occasions. He's very very very upset that no one sent him any mail... so he's murdering a tree, then he's coming back in here to murder his cat. Out of rage, of course.