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by Brent Kellogg
September 2, 2008

So here we go. The big day in Mexico. Nikki Chow has given her goofy son "the slip", a freaking search and rescue team has yet to find the bar, or the beach, or jabba the hut that survived the worst storm ever complete with rattan furniture. Not a single soul, not even the one Jill Abbott is willing to sell, has heard Nikki crying out for her man Victor Newman, and lo there he is very much alive and not happy to see the old cow.

Gosh, why would that be? She can't imagine? She must have an emotional breakdown after Victor says that her love for him is "sick" and that generally she's one sick bitch neither of them having the guts to kill themselves and put everyone out of their misery.

Meanwhile in the states, the Newman kids are reading the infamous talking letters Victor wrote to them before going "missing". What shocking revelations might those letters hold?

Letter to daughter Victoria Hellstrom:

My darling, Victoria,

Of all my children, hey, that would make a great name for a soap opera, wouldn't it? Levitation dear, you gotta learn to chill. Of all my brats, you were the one I always regretted not living up to your expectations. To quote PI Paul, that's what dads do. They live for their daughters. Try as I might, I just never got it right and let you down so many times. Nobody knows better than I that making sure you had every thing in life you'd ever want wouldn't be enough. The expensive medical care, the free room and board, all you could eat, a cosmetics department named Rash & Sassy, I let you down. I know it's not much, but I trust you'll love running the Newman Foundation and perhaps one day you'll tell me what the foundation does. In the meantime know this: You are my spirit. And as such I fully expect you to rename one of the Newman jets to: The Newman Spirit. Or the Spirit of Genoa City. You know, something catchy.

Letter to son Nick Newman:

My Boy, Nicholas,

I always knew you'd be nothing like me. How could you when it was Jack Abbott who took you to all those soccer games? There is one area where you have excelled, however. You are the greatest father a child could have. Tears come to my eyes when I see how Noah bonds with you. He's so well adjusted, those months in therapy did wonders. I can see why he loves living with Jack more than he does you and is barely aware he has a half-sister. Come to think of it, you yourself seem barely aware that Summer is rapidly aging. Keep up the good work, my boy.

Letter to son Victor Newman JR. Adam Wilson. Victor Adam. #2 Son:

My dear unappreciated son,

I never really knew you, but of all the kids, you are the most like me. I implore you not to shut Victoria and Nick out. Yes, they've done nothing but crap on you, but surely you understand what jealously does. You went to Harvard, they went to Hell. Nick took a speed course at Genoa City University, Victoria didn't go to college at all, they've got a right to be jealous. Please don't ignore my wishes, and please don't be bringing that woman around the ranch when I told you not to. I wouldn't want to return from the dead and find you porking Heather Stevens. You got that? Cross me and I'll have Neil Winters lapping at the door. I'll put Neil back in charge at Newman Enterprises and then you'll see who the boss is.

Your Pa,

Victor

Memo to my grandson Noah Newman:

If by chance you come across this note when Adam throws it away, and he will, please stop calling me Grandpa. You always called me Victor before you went away to Summer Camp, so knock the Grandpa shit off, you got that? And stop masturbating! Do something productive, like going to the ranch and feeding Zapato!

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