Ronald Rabbit Is a Dirty Old Man

10

From the desk of Clayton Finch, President

Mr. Laurence Clarke

74 Bleecker Street

New York 10012

Dear Mr. Clarke:

You may recall that I once described you as having stowed away on a corporation. It would now appear that you are attempting to hang onto the hull of Whitestone Publications, Inc., with the tenacity of a barnacle. It is my sad duty to pry you loose and cast you adrift, hoping that you will escape the waves of poverty and reach the shores of gainful employment.

For some reason you seem disinclined to return our unintentional overpayment in the amount of $75.63. While I find your attitude deplorable, I cannot deny that I find it equally unsurprising. On the chance that your affairs were in litigation of some sort, I did direct a brief letter in this regard to the attorney you mentioned in your letter to my secretary. He replied over the telephone and I must admit I was quite incapable of making out what he was getting at. Either you are up to one of your intricate little pranks or you are desperately in need of a better-qualified legal counselor. The man was either terribly confused or a raving maniac.

But the overpayment is minor. While our legal staff would no doubt caution me against saying as much, we would be heartily glad to forget the $75.63 if it were equally possible to forget you in the bargain.

I refer, of course, to your continued unauthorized use of our Xerox machine.

You might be astonished, Mr. Clarke, to know quite how many memoranda your conduct has inspired. The most annoying aspect of all about your behavior is that you seem inclined to make an extra copy of everything you Xerox, which you then leave in the vicinity of the machine. These bits of Kilroy Was Here nonsense have been passed around several offices, particularly in the sales and editorial departments, and have occasioned slight amusement in certain quarters and considerable embarrassment for certain other parties. They also constitute a thorn in the side of the personnel responsible for supervising the Xerox machine. It would seem that you are to them as Robin Hood was to the Sheriff of Nottingham. Any number of traps have been laid for you, Mr. Clarke, but you seem to walk right through them. The situation is further complicated by the fact that no one seems to remember what you look like, due to the reclusive nature of your stay here and the lack of interaction between you and other employees. While your features are ineradicably engraved upon my own memory, I have better things to do than stand around all day watching the Xerox machine.

As you can no doubt appreciate, I am not able to view all of this without a certain degree of humor. My sense of humor is your life preserver, Mr. Clarke. A more humorless man would no doubt have you arrested.

I, on the other hand, merely wish to issue an order. At no time are you to make use of the Whitestone Publication, Inc., Xerox machine. At no time are you to enter the premises of Whitestone Publications, Inc. At no time are you to utilize any Whitestone letterhead, or to in any way identify yourself as editor of Ronald Rabbit’s Magazine for Boys and Girls.

Nor are you at any time to direct any obscene and insulting communications to my secretary, or any communications, obscene or otherwise, to me.

CF/rg