Sr. Gonzalez,

I am deeply troubled by the recent turn of events, which has made it clear that it is impossible for us to cohabitate within the walls of this house any longer.  Unfortunately, it seems that one of us will have to die.  I am writing to warn you, and if our friendship means anything, to encourage you to leave peaceably, before this house descends into a spirit of murderous violence from which neither of us will be likely to ever recover.

I have enjoyed your company over the holidays, and am rather amused when I find a piece of dry cat food in the drawer next to the silverware.  Clearly, you are sneaking away with some of Luis' food in the middle of the night.  As far as I'm concerned, you are welcome to it.  Sometimes I even see you run across the floor.  During the day, even.  It always amuses me to see you.  I am deeply saddened by the prospect of an impending war with your cartel friends.

We have been able to share this house in peace for 2 months, and it has been a quiet, amicable season.  However, chewing through the gas line between the propane tank and the stove is what we call en inglés a "dealbreaker."  It's not even really about the inconvenience; I lived on instant coffee for years and am not un amigo de la cocina by any stretch of the imagination.  My idea of a legit meal is a microwave hamburger from Oxxo and some potato chips.  But the guys came over today, the gas guy and a couple neighbors, and we figured out what the problem was and fixed the line (I thought it was an empty tank), but it was obvious that you had created the damage and that for peace to remain in this house, possibly by virtue of it not exploding into a giant fireball, that one of us would have to go.

I want you to know that when the time comes to lay the traps, if I find your corpse pinned to one of them, I will feel like Patrick Swayze in Red Dawn, when he has to kill his old friend from high school for leading the Russians to their camp.  It will displease me greatly to discover that you have fallen in the war for souls and cheese that rages every day on the frontlines of the mouse world.  But if it proves to be necessary, know that I won't hesitate like Patrick Swayze in Red Dawn, and will do what has to be done.

If you leave peaceably, in the middle of the night, perhaps we won't have to go to war.  I know your cousin Slowpoke Rodriguez is a hitman for the Sinaloa mouse cartel, and I would rather not start a war with him.  He moves slowly, but obviously has an extremely high tolerance for Mexican brick weed and possibly other narcotics, and also packs a gon.  Luis is my only line of defense between myself and the sicarios for the Mexican mouse cartels, and while Luis is an effective and powerful warrior, Slowpoke Rodriguez is famous for his frightening ability to hypnotize cats and turn them into his slaves.  I'd really rather not deal with it.

I understand that in the event we are forced into a morbid dance of baiting and avoiding traps, some retaliation from your family is likely.  In order to avoid racking up a lot of casualties and having to figure out how to de-hypnotize my cat, I think it would be best if you left the premises quietly and surreptitiously in the middle of the night.  I would leave myself, but even though you were here first and I'm not a citizen, I'm bigger than you and it simply makes more sense for you to go.  In fact anybody who replaces me would be likely to lay traps for you on arrival, which I have not been willing to do.  A single guy who doesn't care about food and doesn't want much more than to be left alone is probably about as good a roommate as you're likely to ever have, gringo or otherwise.  I wouldn't even care if you stayed here for 20 years, if it wasn't for the chewed gas line.  Nobody who replaces me could possibly be as cool as I've been to you.  In fact I will miss you.  So let's end this on a good note, with no hard feelings.  Feel free to take as much of the dry cat food with you as you can carry.  I will leave a couple pesos by the back door, you can use for whatever expenses you may incur in your search for a peaceful, prosperous life.  Which I sincerely hope you find.

Andale pues, con paz, y vaya con Dios mi rápido amigo.

Saludos,
Pablo Smog