Help us find the cure for Boopsky

Dear Seth,

As you know, cancer and HIV/AIDS affect millions of lives every year. But thanks to the efforts of researchers and the generosity of people all over the world, these diseases are becoming more treatable and preventable every year.

In the meantime, however, less-publicized conditions are ignored. Research languishes as much-needed money goes toward the "big name" diseases, leaving thousands of people with little hope and few choices. Among these people are the many who have Boopsky.

Though not yet as widespread as cancer or HIV/AIDS, Boopsky is a rapidly infectious disease that causes people to roodle-toodle all the day. Within seconds of infection, Boopsky rums the gums, and slips up the brainstem, turning right-thinking minds into prattlers, tattlers, and timmy-tum-tellers.

Boopsky is a virulent form of ambulocirculatory rizzlepizzle. Ropscop the table and pip down for grandma, Boopsky is here, and she is a mean thing. Researchers have been flummoxed, grummoxed, and pop-kneed by the Boopsky Lady, particularly as it refuses, simply confuses, to stay still for their microscoping maneuvers.

Though whimsical and fun on the run and at home, Boopsky is a debilimatating disease. Its victims have been known to collapse on the spot, their minds overtaken by ol' Boopsky's rot, and they suddenly imagine themselves on a yacht, sailing their brains out to sea. "Jiminy Cricket!" they cry as the rickets of mental infection begin. In minutes they've lost it, and when we all cost it, it comes to a billion-point-three.

In dollars, annually.

In Cockers, Spanuelly.

Won't you help us? You've still got the right-mind, I can tell. I can see you through these colors. Don't try to hide behind chartreuse! She's not on your side!

She's on both of our sides, don't you see? Boopsky, dear old Boopsky-Doodle, can run her fingernails along ANYONE'S spine. Five out of every one Americans will be affected by Boopsky this year, and next year, and the following year, and the year following after that, and all the years until they simply run out and fall off the edge of the universe into God's mouth. Let us grab Boopsky's tail while we can still see it slithering on the floor, and up the back of our legs.

As Benjamin Boopsky, founder of the National Boopsky Foundation and the Boopsky Institutsky, has often said, "It isn't a Woopsky and it isn't a Zoopsky, so what can it be but a Boopsky?"

Please. Help us.

Sincinattily,

Rupert the Rup-Pup