Dear Antonin,

I and the "boys" would like to thank you for another wonderful time shooting "them thar ducks." You're right -- we should put them in a barrel next time.

I heard that Sandra Day was saying I'm a lousy shot. So I miss a few now and then. Just because I call the shots at the White House doesn't mean I can do the same thing with a shotgun! Har-har.

I hear they've just invented an amphibious monster RV at prices that start at a mere 850 grand. Next year we should get one of those babies and take it on the lake. That thing -- it's got gold and marble in every inch of it and -- gets about a quarter of a mile to a gallon. I love it. I'm going to have the Pentagon buy ten thousand of them, and offer tax breaks to anyone who picks one up.

Listen, I know you've been taking some heat about sitting in on my upcoming case. You better rule for me, or I'll leak that your wife is a CIA spy! (Just kidding.)

I don't want you to favor me just because we're hunting friends. Or because I hired your son as Acting Solicitor of Labor. Or because I get you tickets to stuff. Or because I take you to fancy dinners. Or because my oil runs your car.

I don't want you to favor me. (If anyone asks, you can tell them I said that.) I am not in the pocket of energy companies. They're in mine! Hyuck. (Don't tell them I said that!)

Antonin. What the hell kind of a name is that? Maybe I should call you Ant. "Hey, Ant, why don't you crawl over to the cooler and bring me over a beer!"

Keep your antennae out and keep your tiny head down. (Hey, you know I luv ya, ya big galoot!)

The "Dick" ()