Dear Faceless Assassin:
Ah, Mr. William "Tango"... we meet again. Or should I call you "Little Billy Torgsenvald"? You couldn't handle me beating you up through grade school, so you had to become an international assassin? A few unresolved issues left, eh? Always following in my footsteps, I see. But you couldn't make the A-List in Special Forces like I did. You keep thinking in such barbaric terms. you need to show a little finesse in your tactics, and I'm not talking about that two-in-one shampoo that you use, either.
Never forget the first thing they tell you in Basic... "Kill or be killed!"
-Awaiting
Your Coming of Age
-Johnny Bravo
The last time
I saw you, you were huffing
bong-hits behind the bleachers at our 
old
high school. That was last week. I thought about taking you out for a
beer, but after your disrespectful tone, I think I'll just take you out.
I've chosen a befitting weapon, the 'Knight's Armament Co. Stoner SR-25'
- a sniper rifle converted from an M-16. My initial tests of this rifle
have shown that it can put all 20 rounds in a 19mm circle at 100 meters.
See ya soon, ol' buddy.
Dear SkullSplitter:
Good afternoon, Mr. Skullsplitter. I am Harvey Funderberk, a promoter. I would like to engage you for a limited run of shows fighting bears in a pit near Reno, Nevada. If you agree to my request, I will pay you $500 a day, plus arrange for your travel and lodging. I understand that this is not really in your line of work, but maybe you have tired of pillaging, and if this is so, this is the opportunity for you. I can be reached at any hour of the day or night at this address. Please respond quickly.
-Harvey
Funderberk
-Bear Pit, NV
I never tire of pillaging. I also never turn down an opportunity to fight mighty creatures that weigh in at more than 1000 pounds. I accept your offer. I require only chain mail gloves and ten kegs of SkullSplitter Ale for two days of fighting. Money means nothing to me.
My neighborhood has been overrun by pigeons. These flying rats keep crapping on my car and eating all of my dog's food that I leave out for him. I've "neutralized" several of them with my BB gun, but now there appears to be more than ever before! I know that they're part of nature and all, but these things are annoying as hell. Help!
-Pigeon
Crazy
-Boca Raton, FL
BB Gun? You might as well attack
those birds with an office stapler. There's only
one answer to your problem: Stinger missiles. The launcher is only 5-feet
long and weighs in at only 34 pounds - which I'm sure you can handle.
The missiles have an internal infrared (heat-seeking) guidance system
and are positively the most fun to fire. If the fifteen-foot extension
of exhaust flames doesn't whip your pony, then you're not human.
For all your years sucking air on planet Earth, you still have not learned any respect for your betters. I pity you. I also pity anyone standing near you when we should meet. I am sure that you are strong, and they (whoever they are) will probably not be strong enough to resist my attack. I tend to lead with cruise missiles, then go from there. If you are immortal, maybe you can collect "Frequent Flier" points when I put you into Earth orbit. Some time spent getting a tan while circling the planet should improve your outlook (not to mention your looks) and give you a chance to realize that there is no one on the planet who can stop me.
I am intrigued by the opportunity to find out what immortal REALLY means. Are you ten feet tall and bullet-proof? I am nearly seven feet of completely ("I assure you") psychotic being. you may have exceeded me in mere quantity, but I will also assure you that I prevail in quality.
Let none mistake, I have had virgins before their first flow, and taken the heads of men in the prime of life. I have taken father from family, mother from child, and if I hear any more of this useless quibbling, BLOOD WILL FLOW!
When you think of SUPREME, you shall think "Maniac." Also, when you think rental cars, you should think "Maniac." Let that be a lesson to you, my geriatric friend. I shall see you soon, but I think you shall not be seeing me this side of hell. Vaya con Dios.
-The Maniac
-Earth
Dear Maniac -
I ate a bowl of "Maniacs" for breakfast this morning, along with a mad cow and a Scotland Tour Bus. I'm not hungry for you right now. Perhaps we can meet in Bear Pit, NV - where I plan on exhibiting my prowess in a pit full of rabid, angry bears with testicular elephantitis. I'm thirsty...