My Favorite Chain Letter

 For all you caring folks out there..... My name is Willy Stealem. I am a very sick little boy. My mother is typing this from her new $3000 computer, because I can't. She is crying. The reason she is so sad is because I'm so sick. I was born without a father or a body. It doesn't hurt, except when I try to think, breathe or smile. The Doctors gave me an artificial body. It is really a bummer because it’s only a stupid burlap bag filled with marijuana leaves. The idiot Doctors said that was the best they could do on account of us having no money or insurance.

I would like to have a body transplant, but we need more money and lots of it! Mommy doesn't work because she said nobody hires liars, cheaters, thieves or crying people. I said, "Don't cry, Mommy," and she hugged my burlap bag. In fact my Mommy keeps selling off parts of my body to her friends, so we can pay the rent. Mommy always gives me hugs, even though she's allergic to burlap and it makes her sleepy and makes her eyes real red. I hope you will help me. You can help me if you forward this email to everyone you know. Forward it to really dumb people with lots of money they don't care about and to everyone you don't know, too. Dr. Smokem said that for every person you forward this email to, Bill Gates will team up with AOL and send a nickel to NASA. With that funding, NASA will collect prayers from school children all over Africa and America and have the astronauts take them up into space so that the angels can hear them better. Then they will come back to earth and go to the Pope, and he will take up a collection in church and send all the money to the happy Doctors. The Doctors could help me get better then. Maybe one day I will be able to play baseball. Right now I can only be the third base. Every time you forward this letter, the astronauts can take more prayers to the angels and my dream will be closer to coming true. Please help me. Mommy is so sad, and I want a body. I don't want my leaves to rot before I turn 10. If you don't forward this email, that's okay. Mommy says you're a mean and heartless dog pig killer who doesn't care about a poor little boy with only a head. She says that if you don't stew in the raw pit of your own guilt-ridden stomach, she hopes you die a long slow, horrible death and then burn forever in hell. What kind of cruel person are you that you can't take five figgin minutes to forward this to all your friends so that they can feel guilt and shame about ignoring a poor, bodiless nine-year-old boy?

Please help me. I try to be happy, but it's hard. I wish I had a kitty. I wish I could hold a kitty. I wish I could hold a kitty that wouldn't chew on me and try to bury its turds in the leaves of my burlap body. And most of all I wish Mommy and her friends would stop smoking my body, soon I won’t even have that. I wish that very much.
Thank You,
Billy "Smiles" Stealem
P.S. You can send money to the person who sent you this because that person is very trustworthy…honest!

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