I hope you don’t mind my stowing this note away in your jacket pocket. I assure you; it has been chemically washed and checked for spy-bugs before being deposited in this manner.
You may feel that you’ve been toiling away here at BogDrainerz un-noticed, un-appreciated, un-celebrated and un-carefully considered for greater responsibilities, but you would be wrong. You have done much in your short time amongst the other Mud Removal Analysts in your department to distinguish yourself from the intellectual dregs. The organization I represent has had its eye on you for quite some time now, and the moment has come to break our silence and welcome you into our fraternity.
What kind of group is this? Certainly it involves publishing some sort of once-in-a-lifetime periodical that will save the world from itself? Are members asked to steal and rape in the name of the club? There are many questions you must want to ask and even more time to ask them next week at our Mutual Criticism Ice Cream Social on Friday.
I trust you will be there- meet at the Coldstone downstairs at PRECISELY 3:33 AM and 33 seconds- not a second earlier or later. The significance should be obvious to an established brainuser such as yourself.
See you there!
Editor-in-Chief Michél Ropanzo, Genius Level 9
Perhaps it is best you chose not to join us at our event last week- due to a gross and foul miscommunication the Coldstone was left entirely locked and dark at the selected time. Our group was stranded alone and cold; our only companions being the early morning elements and a small group of sharp-toothed crimelovers that left most of us nude and misty eyed in the alley.
It is perhaps also best because it occurs to me now that in declining to explain the nature of our organization to you in my first note I was asking you to make a decision without first knowing all of the facts. I should have known that an intellect such as yours would never act so brashly. This is what separates you from the other engineers at BogDrainerz, wasting their considerable talents designing clever wetland removal pumps disguised as anthropomorphic frogs.
I represent THE PERIODICAL, a super-elite editorial board determined to publish an identically named prescription for humanity. This tome, standing at however many thousands of pages of authentic Egyptian papyrus prove necessary, will right the world’s wrongs, weed out the toxic roots of anti-intellectualism and categorize all of the group’s members comprehensively by mind power.
So how about it, young Aerthur? How would you like to change the world through sheer force of will? Alter the careening course of history and prevent the formation of a television saturated, religio-fascist sportsocracy? Compare your considerable genius to Phillip Kleinglass in Customer Service?
Meet me at the historic bridge into Peetbutter State Park tonight at precisely 9:99 and 99 seconds, or whatever real time that works out to. I pray fervently that you will make it- you may be our last hope!
Editor-in-Chief Michél Ropanzo, Genius Level 9
Foul, stinking Aerthur,
I am saddened by your failure to arrive at the bridge last night. If you had appeared, perhaps you could have dissuaded the scary dogs from chasing me so far into the woods. As it is now, it is with a heavy heart that I scrawl these words on my bare stomach for some future woods-explorer and body-finder to decipher: Your invitation to join THE PERIODICAL is hereby rescinded.
I have gone so far as to retroactively downgrade my Genius Rating by a full level for trusting a virus such as yourself. I’ve never even spoken to you or introduced myself in person and as such it is astoundingly bad form for you to dismiss me out of hand. Now I find myself nude once more and lost deep in the dense forest, thanks entirely to your presumably cynical behavior.
THE PERIODICAL will continue to sit unpublished for God-knows-how-long. Perhaps one day another great leader of geniuses will serialize its contents and at least GET THE IMPORTANT FACTS OUT THERE, but its dynamism and majesty will be absent.
We could have changed the world together, Aerthur! Babies would have sworn their allegiance to us- to you!- for generations. Now your greatest accomplishment will be ignoring the wise Assistant Marketing Director who wanted to change your life for the better. For shame.
It is beginning to snow more heavily now and I feel as if the woods around me are glowing with the buzzing incandescence of fiendish lupine eyes. There is a marshy pond nearby that I could shelter in, but it is too frozen to be safely drained by a solitary naked man. Before I climb higher into the tree in search of salvation, however, I want you to know why you broke so many hearts amongst the great thinkers at BogDrainerz this week:
You were the Chosen One.
Yours in nude sadness,
Editor-in-Chief Michél Ropanzo, Genius Level 8