“Dear Ashton Kutcher,
My name is Abby and I am your biggest fan. I even started a fan club at my middle school! My email address is email@example.com in case you want to chat some more!
Kyle Korver crumpled up the misguided fan mail and lobbed it into his recycling bin. “When will these preteen girls realize that I’m not Ashton Kutcher? I don’t even look like him. He’s a midget compared to me. Honey, do I look like Ashton Kutcher to you?”
Kyle’s wife walked over and hugged him. “Of course not. You look more like my beautiful-wootiful shnookums-ookums to me.”
“Damn right, honey. I am beautiful-wootiful, unlike some talentless hack of an actor that everybody seems to equate with me.” He grabbed another letter from the pile of mail. “I don’t even know how these girls get my address,” he mused as he ripped it open and began to read.
This is Juliet. I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re really cute. Would you like to go out some time? You could be my Romeo, teehee!
P.S. My friend Jenn thinks Leonardo DiCaprio is cuter than you. What do you think?”
Kyle found this letter very strange. His wife’s name was Juliet, and she had a friend named Jenn who was a notorious DiCaprio idolizer.
“Honey, have you been penning any fan mail lately?”
Kyle’s wife grabbed the letter. “Damn! I could have sworn I got the right address! You understand, don’t you pumpkin-dumpkins? I mean, you two look so much alike, and it’s so easy to get confused.”
Kyle sighed. “Whatever. I’ll get my assistant to look through the rest of this. I’m going to go shoot some threes.” He got up from his chair and walked to the door of his office. Then he turned around. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot. We’re getting a divorce. I think I’m going to find a wife who appreciates me as something more than a Kutcher clone.”