Letter to An Angel

Dear Clarence,

Remember me, you fucking pixie?

Well, I remember you. And I'm writing to give you a warning, you little son of a bitch. When I die, I'm coming up to Heaven, and I'm looking for you. And when I find you, you Tom-Sawyer-reading fucknut, I'm going to tear off those fucking wings of yours and shove them right where the ever-loving sun don't shine!

Know why? Let me tell you.

I used to own an establishment on the outskirts of Pottersville…Nick's. I'm the guy that threw your candy-ass out of my place when you and that jail-bird, George were shooting your mouths off about angels, reaching out to child-killers, and trying to give my place atmosphere. You remember me now? I sure as shit hope you do! If you don't, you will when I choke you to death with your own fuckin' halo.

What the hell did you do to me? One minute, I'm the most righteous motherfucker in town, owner and proprietor of the toughest bar in the toughest neighborhood, in the meanest fuckin' city in the whole Goddamn state. I ate nails and shat nickels, drank my whisky with a chaser of turpentine, and kicked the shit out of any barfly who didn't pay his tab. I served hard drinks to men who wanted to get drunk fast. I even had a nice little sideline running muscle for Potter! I mean, we weren't best friends, or anything, but I broke a few thumbs, and got some pretty fat fucking envelopes for doing it. All in all, my life was pretty sweet. I drank what I wanted, fucked who I wanted, and kicked a hell of a lot of ass. I coulda lassoed the moon, if I wanted to!

And then you came along, didn't you? You rat-bastard, do-gooder, Angel, Second Class. And when I wake up on Christmas morning, and what kind of present do I get?

My place is gone! Instead of bad-ass Nicks, it's Martini's again! And, even worse, my old boss, Martini is back, too! Gee, that's fuckin' funny! Last time I checked, I buried that skinny old guido prick out by the ravine where Harry Bailey drowned! And that's another fucking zombie, back from the dead! Harry Bailey, a war hero pilot? That snot-nosed little pipsqueak couldn't even drive a shovel! And I see the jailbird's now his brother. Nice touch, you celestial jerk-off…

And what the fuck is Bedford Falls? This place is Pottersville! I've lived in this town ever since I was a kid, and it's never had any other name. Where the hell are the dance halls and speakeasy's? What the fuck is a "Saving's and Loans"? And since when has Violet Bick not humped everything with a pulse and five-dollar bill?

Jesus, Mary, Joseph! FUCK YOU, CLARENCE ODDBODY!

I feel like I'm in some sort of fucking weird alternate universe. It's like some sort of bizzare twilight zone, where the whole world has changed for the worse, just because you saw fit to let one more fuckin' guy get born! What the hell were you playing at? He even gets to marry that shrew of a librarian…who's now smokin' hot! Jesus...she looks like Donna fuckin' Reed!

I don't know what the fuck you're playing at, Oddbody, but when I find you, your body's not going be odd, it's going to be fucking broken! I swear to God, you night-shirt wearing, mulled wine drinking, two hundred ninety three year-old shit-stain, when I find you, I'm going to ring your bell…over and over…until every angel in the whole fucking Universe gets a pair of wings, plus a spare!

You're a dead man, Clarence. I don't even care that you're already dead. I'm going to find you and kill you again. Slowly. Then we'll see how many verses of Auld Lang Syne you can sing.

"No man is a failure if he has friends", you say? Well you better bring all the fuckin' friends you have, Clarence. Because I'm coming for you. And I ain't stoppin' until I've stomped a mud hole in your angelic ass, and walked it dry.

Once I do that, Clarence, it's going to be one hell of a Wonderful Life.

See you soon,

Nick


I got your rum punch right here!