Dear Clarice (featuring Sir Anthony Hopkins) (Ганнибал /Hannibal )
Dear Clarice, I have followed with enthusiasm the course of your disgrace and public shaming. My own never bothered me except for the inconvenience of being incarcerated. But you may lack perspective. In our discussions down in the dungeon it was apparent to me that your father, the dead night watchman, figures largely in your value system. I think your success in putting an end to Jame Gumb's career as a couturier pleased you most because you could imagine your father being pleased. But now, alas, you're in bad odor with the FBI. Do you imagine your daddy being shamed by your disgrace? Do you see him in his plain pine box crushed by your failure? The sorry, petty end of a promising career? What is worst about this humiliation, Clarice? Is it how your failure will reflect on your mommy and daddy? Is your worst fear that people will now and forever believe they were indeed just good old trailer camp, tornado-bait, white trash? And that perhaps you are, too? By the way, I couldn't help noticing on the FBI's rather dull public website that I have been hoisted from the Bureau's archives of the common criminals and elevated to the more prestigious Ten Most Wanted List. Is this coincidence, or are you back on the case? If so, goody goody. Cause I need to come out of retirement and return to public life. I imagine you sitting in a dark basement room bent over papers and computer screens. Is that accurate? Please tell me truly, Special Agent Starling. Regards, your old pal, Hannibal Lecter, M.D.
P.S. Clearly this new assignment is not your choice. Rather, I suppose it is part of the bargain, but you accepted it, Clarice. Your job is to craft my doom. So I am not sure how well I should wish you... but I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun. Ta-ta. "H."