To: Phoenix | From: Machete

[Soban]

Hello, Tootsie.

You thought I’d forgotten all about you, didn’t you? Adorable.
Let me assure you, I spent my little vacation week thoroughly enjoying myself—paying off bounties to obliterate your pals—without sparing even a fleeting thought for you or your oh-so-pitiful infatuation.

But today, as I was about to toss out that dumpster fire you call answers, I stumbled on a delightful reminder. This morning—after a riveting night of Bingo, no less—I noticed something on my fresh Cambridge synth milk:

So that was you, running amok near a Cambridge trade line last week, pestering a school cargo ship until they basically surrendered a toddler who could read and write for you, because—bless your heart—you can’t. That’s truly despicable, sweetie.

Frankly, your abysmal quiz performance meant you barely deserved a bounty of one measly Sirius credit. But kidnapping a toddler to force-feed your megalomaniac monologue so the poor kid could scribble down your half-baked drivel? Well, that is an achievement! You’ve really raised the bar, honey. I despise other people’s children almost as much as I despise Corsairs, so congratulations—you’re inching up my scoreboard.

You’re still light-years away from dethroning my exes, of course. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, dear.

Ta-ta for now. And don’t dare bother me again unless you’ve got truly entertaining updates—or I’ll be more than happy to send my lovers on you!