Cowritten by the great writer, but nagging friend, Achente 

"I've been drinking, I've been drinking, I get filthy when that liquor get into me, I've been thinking, I've been thinking." Beyonce ~Drunk In Love

Sarah Greene plays Diana

Dearest Diana,

I know you hate me, hate me for ruining your perfect life. Good. Hate me. Hate me all you want. It won't do any good anyways, I'm dead.

I really didn't intend to kiss your boyfriend.

First of all, I was drunk. D-R-U-N-K. Accidents happen when you are drunk. Secondly, he was just there. And I didn't even want to kiss him. He actually kissed me first. And so what if I kissed him back? I'm sorry, alright?

We were both drunk.

Alright then, I think I'm ready to write the next words down: We killed Ryan Jones. It all started with a kiss. Literally.

When you've drank a good number of alcohol with your designated driver who gave up that position, yeah, you can tell things are going to go downhill.

Like I was saying, Ryan Jones kissed me and I stupidly kissed him back.

As you can see, Diana, drunk off her ass can be v e r y , v e r y possessive. So she accused her beloved boyfriend of cheating on her. Mind you, Ryan was also pretty drunk at that time.

I tried to explain to Diana that I didn't kiss Ryan first. Besides, I had defended, he's not my type. In my opinion, I thought he was kind of ugly.

I mean, the skinny nose was literally a stick like I can't. I'm sorry I'm still drunk now cus I took a sip of...I don't know? Hell juice? Whatever, a bit of alcohol lets me write the truth as I remember, and hopefully when I write this, I will omit the weird looking rabbits that could talk during the fight.

Oh yeah, that's what I was writing about.

Well, I can't really remember who started the fight. All I remember, well the important part, was Diana's nails scratching me, hair pulling, hysterically screaming and such. I must admit, it was one of the best catfights I've participated in my life.

I swear she was crazy like what the actual duckface. She tried lugging me over her and do some like oh god I burped. The aftertaste is infuriating. It tastes fruity.

Anyway, back to the shocking story. Um, I faintly remember the talking rabbit, shoot, I mean Ryan trying to break us apart. If you ask me, that ugly dude is sure possessive, sober or not. I DO NOT HAVE A DRINKING PROBLEM! I think I should stop drinking, I'm beginning to see double. I don't think I can write straight now. Words... so wobbly. I'm going to take a nap.....

Alright I'm back still drunk doh, not as drunk but...let's move on before I pass out again. Well, so Ryan called us both the B word and I thinkz Diana just gave up fighting for her ex's honor. So, Diana attacked Ryan next.

Well, I followed, and I think I smashed a tequila bottle over his head. Tequila...

Um, I think after that, Diana started to smash a vase over his head. He was screaming something that sounded like 'hershey' while he was bleeding. Wait, no, I think it was 'mercy'. Um, what does that mean again? I think I'm out of tequila.

What do you guys think about overdosing and dying? That seems like a good way to die. Overdosing on tequila... Wait no doesn't really sound right, does it?

Well basically we were both bucking crazy that time around. So actually, why the hell do you care about whether or not I kissed your boyfriend, you and I murdered his bass no wait his azz. Whatever. I didn't deliverz the death bloow tho, I think it was you. You threw a chair at him. Didn't think you were strong with those chicken arms. Wait chickens don't have armz wut.

So sorry not sorry. This was a waste of paper. Shoulda wrote to Ryan instead. Wait, then again, Ryan's dead. Whateva.

I was right, this is a waste of paper. I'm sober again, and I'm sorry. Like, really sorry about ruining your life. I don't blame you if you hate me. I hate myself too. I really shouldn't have messed with Ryan and you. I hope... I don't know.

But I'll say hi to Ryan for you, he's right next door. I think he misses you?

I'm going to just go now before I sober up and mess up everything.

Sorry for everything,

Natalie Palmer