Paranoia for the Secret Service Agent from Idaho

Dear Deputy Commissioner (if indeed, that is who you are)

You have known me for some years and you know that I have given my all for my department, for this organisation and above all, for my country. God bless America.

However, I believe my time here has come to an end. I fear that I am in mortal danger; that my every move is being watched and that someone has been delivering Wal-Mart coffee to my house (they know full well that my normal brand is Kenco). What is the meaning of all of this? I cannot tell. What I do know is that in my work I have seen some of awful and deceitful things; things that any sane person should not have to endure.

For example (and I know that you think you know that I know this but you don't) the tunnel underneath JFK airport is NOT a rabbit warren as you maintained. It has for years been used to ferry suitcases and luggage from planes to the arrivals lounge and back again. The Federal Reserve is NOT a storage facility for the names and cultural identities of States yet to come into being. Area 51 DOES exist and is located beyond a wooden fence in a small garden outside Virginia...

A car with the ability to reach escape velocity HAS been invented and is regularly used by NASA to repair satellites and spy on the drinking habits of Boris Yeltsin. Bill Clinton does NOT have the same genetic make-up as Richard Nixon (or Eustace, the breeding baboon who was the first test participant to show that Viagra cures impotence) and Elvis; Elvis, as you know is alive and well and working as a night porter at a motel in Tampa Bay, Florida.

So, it has come to my attention through this catalogue of deceit that you have been lying to me for all these years. What are you going to tell me next? That aliens do exist? That Abraham Lincoln was a pimp? That the Pope is Catholic? Don't be ridiculous.

Anyway, I'm handing in my notice as of now. I have submitted my badge and gun to my partner, Silky and I've hired on of those cars from NASA on a long lease. Neither you or your hit-men will ever find me so don't even bother trying.

All the best (which means all the worst)