[i]Dear Phogoth...[/i] I know it's been awhile. Too long, in fact. Each day [b][i]I grow more sullen[/i][/b], and I've only recently came to terms with [b][i]that which is causing my sorrow.[/i][/b] [b]It's you, [i]baby.[/i][/b] I know, I know. Baby [i]Phopho[/i] grew up to be [i]Big Papa P.[/i] What was once just a small wart on your face has blossomed into a [b]hemorrhoidal fruit of passion and death.[/b] Your wee-tiny ogre legs are now [b]delicious tools of the architects.[/b] And those abs? [b][i]Forget about it![/i][/b] You don't need to impress me. I've been awestruck ever since you courageously broke out of those chains to [b]greet me.[/b] ....[i]what I wouldn't give to be those chains...[/i] Ghost is a liar. I [b][i]do[/i][/b] want to know what they're keeping down [i][b]there.[/b][/i] I don't need to be on Venus to form a spire. Phogoth, I know you can't properly communicate your love to me. Your ogre mouth just doesn't allow for such benevolence. And yet, [b][i]my heart wanes not.[/i][/b] I've got plans...[b][i]big plans[/i][/b] for you and me! We'll settle down somewhere in a nice wooden cottage. I'll acquire [b]guardian corpses[/b] for you to write messages to me in the moon sand with. [b][i]I will ride you around patrol like Sea Biscuit.[/i][/b] If I had a dollar for [b]every time[/b] some idiot told me love between guardians and ogres was wrong, I could afford enough weapon parts to rank up [i]Dead Orbit.[/i] In closing, dearest [b]Big Papa P,[/b] [i]I will be on you like a [b]hobo on a hot ham and cheese.[/b][/i] [spoiler]...once you're back in the nightfall rotation.[/spoiler]