…That’s the same as asking if I enjoy breathing, anonymous.

Good God. Ok with what anonymous?
Fruit salads? ‘Cos I haven’t eaten a decent one in a long time.
Ricki gazed upon yet another anonymous letter with a furrowed brow, scoffing slightly at the lack of a greeting and the question that had been thrown at him.

“Dear anonymous,
What if he were gay?
Wouldn’t make him any less of a jackass than he already is. It’s not who you sleep with that makes you who you are, is it?
All that matters is that Peter Guillam is my boss. And even though it don’t look like it, I have immeasurable amounts of respect for that man. I just think he doesn’t know how to be happy anymore. Along with the rest of the Circus folk. They’re so obsessed about their job they forgot how to act human.
Just because they act like idiots, doesn’t mean they are idiots.
It just means they are very lonely people.
So, go bother Guillam or swallow a freaking lampshade. Just stop milking me for my superiors’ information and fuck off.
Lots of hugs,
Ricki”