Dear Acme Product Returns

Dear Acme Product Returns,

I am returning your rocket propelled bicycle, and desire a full refund. I don’t say that I expect a full refund, as I have come to learn not to expect anything from your company, or that any of my expectations shall bear fruit, but that is the idea, isn’t it?

I shall humor the process a little more: This product, rather than propelling me down the road at enormous speeds, as advertized, did something quite different. It lifted the back half of the bicycle off the ground while my front tire wobbled frontwards and back at dramatic speeds, and then the propellant tank loosened, driving me face down in the ground repeatedly.

Still I did not die. I heard a brief Doppler-ized “Beep beep” as my nemesis scooted by, but I did not die, even having been crushed into the Earth at rocket speeds, repeatedly. This is the same mocking sound I have heard so many times over the years as your products have failed me. The flying machines, the earthquake pills, spring loaded shoes. All flights fell, all springs sprung out of control, all poisons only poison coyotes, just not enough to actually kill.

How I have tried to die. No amount of bludgeoning, no crushing weight, nothing will kill me. Explosions leave me blackened, but intact. I have fallen from towering cliffs, with boulders, even huge slabs of mountainside following soon after. I see their growing shadows, but never feel the sweet kiss of oblivion.

Now I see the David Lynch movie I am in. Since I cannot die, I must already be dead. It explains this endless, lifeless desert. For I am in Hell. Year after year I strive, isolated, but for that devil of yours who speeds by for the purpose of mocking and tantalizing me.

Now I get the wicked twist that is your name. You are The Acme. The mysterious place I cannot know. Heaven. God. Does it really create such pleasure to torment me, so far below? Now that I know my punishment, is there truly no penance for whatever long forgotten sins I may have committed in my earthly form? Was I even a coyote? Is there no way back? Please. I implore you. Bring me to Acme, let me be with you. Let me be with the others in your blessed realm! I shall not eat them!

Barring that, I’d like a grenade launcher fishing pole, please. Charge it to my usual account.

Sincerely,

W. E. Coyote

--Dan Kilian

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