Dearest Stephen,
I hate what I heard about you last week. I hate that you had to, once again, endure a heavy-handed suspension (Fifth time! Five!) at the hands of Coach Spurrier. And all for what, m'boy? Gettin' a bit of a swerve on? Hittin' some party liquor? Drugs maybe? Stealin' somethin' perhaps? Womenfolk hanging all over you, your long locks whisping about the Carolina breeze?
All for that?
C'mon, Stephen, that's poppycock and you know it! You didn't kill nobody! You're not Michael Vick - and even if you were, I'd love you for it. And that's because I am a lover and not a fighter.
Now I know what you're thinking, "I'm still in school. I'm still on the roster. What is this nonsense?" And you're right in thinking that. But these times are uncertain ones. Hell, I'm not certain what I'm gonna eat for dinner here in a few hours, just as you could be on your own soon enough. Imagine that, if you dare, Stephen: you, a quarterback without a team. It'd be a shame to let a guy with your talent go to waste. And all because you love booze and womenfolk. C'mon! I love booze and womenfolk! And where I live, booze and womenfolk is practically all we got!
Stephen, I don't mean to sound presumptuous, but you need some hepp. You're not gonna get the hepp you need in Carolina because, frankly, they're not in the heppin' bidness. I am. I'm a people hepper. You're good people, and I wanna hepp you.
Stephen, you beautiful man you, come on down to Oxfordtown. We'll get you all the heppin' you can stomach.
Yours,
Houston D. Nutt
[ED: We've seriously gotta get this guy to Ole Miss, and not for an X's and O's, W's vs L's type of reasoning, but because he's Stephen "I couldn't give a single fuck" Garcia. This guy's legendary, and I want his legendary self in and about our fair ville.]
[ED2: Not even kidding about this. RickMuscles and I are working on it. We're sabatouers as well as renaissance men.]