Ode to Guests Past On

Okay, sometimes we get so attached to our guests, I cannot help but continue to lovingly harass them after they have left us. If you remember my writing about Becky and Vickie, the two that I generously published their restaurant review for, the saga continues post planing and de-planing in that strange alternate existence in the US called Texas.
I had to send them this note:
We miss you so much we had to tear Grill King apart looking for you, but they swore you were not hiding under a gyro or secretly splitting your next pita bread under the counter. They shared their fears that now that you are gone, they just may have to file for bankruptcy. Your frequenting their counter multiple times daily, was the only thing keeping them going. Alternatively, they are saddened by the fact that you really did only turn on your charming ways for their thinly sliced meat. They really didn’t think you were that shallow that the way they stuffed your pocket bread was what was making your drool all over their glass counter. Their gyros may be gyrating out of the neighborhood unless you return to support them or do some marketing on their behalf. Perhaps TripAdvisor has a companion GyroAdvisor for you to post a recommendation.
Vickie, we know you really hated to leave here, but having to unchain you from the furniture not only caused us metal rope burn, but it also dented the furniture. There is just going to have to be a clause in our contracts when guest show an overenthusiastic affection for us and the city. 
Did you intend to leave us a whole outfit as a remembrance? We took a picture to refresh your memory in case it were not intentional, but I seem to think it was what you planned to change into once you skipped out on Becky once you were at the airport. Since you did not return, we are thinking of getting a blonde mannequin to dress up in these clothes. She will be called Manne-Vickie. Since you made better friends with our neighbor Zsuzsanna in 10 days then we have in 10 years, we will put a recorded voice in Manne-Vickie’s back, so the two of you can say incomprehensible things to each other.  She did so seem to enjoy that guessing game.
We’ll set Manne-Vickie on the balcony so she can speak to Zsuzsanna across the courtyard. Once every 3 hours, we will shove a cigarette in Manne-Vickie’s
mouth, move her into a sitting position and set her on the bucket, just like you did. We wouldn’t want Zsuzsanna to suffer any more culture shock. Of course, when Zsuzsanna doesn’t understand your English and you her Hungarian, there will not be an opportunity to draw pictures any longer. We may have to equip Manne-Vickie with a scratch and sniff book to point, so Zsuzsanna doesn’t fret over providing a monologue. Come to think of it, it hasn’t seemed to disturb her when speaking to the other neighbors. 
Remember, we are going to ship Zsuzsanna to you in Texas, so her manic moods are tempered with the Gulf of Mexico cool breezes that reach your home. Manne-Vickie can get her prepared  for her Texas gala setting the stage for all of the excitement the two of you will lavish on her. Be sure to tell her how much better her life can be there. With that in mind, we will only get Zsuzsanna a one way ticket. 
In the meantime, at least once a day, we will take her down to Grill King to visit with the guys. She won’t be able to hold a gyro to you two, but she can keep them company while they pack up to move the business to the bankruptcy court.
With fond memories,
Ryan
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