Hey, baby. Surprise. I know this probably feels a little bit morbid, but I just hate the idea that I’m not gonna be there to see you freak out over turning 30. I mean, it kills me not to be there. That’s funny. Okay. No, it’s not. You’re gonna be so impressed. I have a plan, baby. Can you believe it? I’ve written you letters. Letters that will be coming to you all sorts of ways. I waited till your birthday. I figured you weren’t stepping out of the house for a while. Letter number one will be arriving tomorrow. Now, you must do what I say, okay? Okay? Don’t try to figure out how the letters are coming. It’s too brilliant and it’ll ruin my plan. Just go along with me on this. Because the thing is, I just can’t say goodbye yet. So for starters, I want you to get dolled up, and just go out and celebrate tonight. Go out with your girlies. I hereby free you from a party with your family, especially your mom. Oh, man, your mom’s there, isn’t she? Shit. Sorry, Patricia. It isn’t that I don’t love you but she needs to get a little crazy. So have a slice of the bloody cake, put on your dress and get out of the apartment. Denise, make a plan. Just leave me with John, okay? And know that wherever I am, I’m missing you. Happy birthday. I love you.