Dear Baboochka,
A real steinburg-like bloke made me viddy a no-horrorshow-like horror show with malchicks and votchkas splooming guttiwuts all over the earth and howitzing at the moon. Usually lubbilubbing to such scenes of ultra-violence, like glass in my glazzies, it was, with a soundtrack from Bog Himself Mr. Beethoven's I-didn't-do-nothin-m'am-I-plead-the-5th symphony. Din, din, din, and Dim himself couldn't screw back my gulliver after such strack-attack on lubby Ludwig. Is music snuffed and sealed for Your Humble Narrator or will it rise, Lazarus-like, to live again?
Baboochka (World Gazetta): Alex, I am afraid I do not understand a word of your letter. Please consult a dictionary and write back.
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