It didn't take long for the Nostrumite to get in touch with me after that interview in O'Cruz World. Nothing would be guaranteed to put the lad in a state of permanent depression more than yet another spalpeen claiming that the Mite and Jules don't exist. Tell that to the Moldovans (Moldovites? Moldwegians?), the Mite exclaims. That's where Jules is now, working as a Peace Corps volunteer. Apparently he's helping the Moldwegians set up small internet businesses. Not that the Mite claims to know much about Moldava, and I can't say as I had ever even heard of it. Oh, well. The Nostrumite is doing quite well on his own, these days, thanks for asking. He's working on his novel, which he claims is coming along swimmingly. He is not happy about losing Nicky after her recent trip to the altar, however, if a Vegas wedding chapel can be said to have an altar. The Mite has always had high hopes about marrying money, and now his only hope as far as the Hiltons are concerned is Nicky's older sister. "I'm praying that she's mine one day," the Mite reports. "I'm even going to church regularly. Paris is worth a mass, if you know what I mean."
He also points out that a quick Google search did not come up with anyone else attempting that lame joke. I don't believe him for a minute.
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