Dear Incredibly Enthusiastic, Astonishingly Persistent, Slightly Terrifying Mob of Fall Out Boy Fans That Have Surrounded The Finis Terrae Hotel All Week,

Hey! How are you? Okay, okay, okay...Stop screaming! Seriously, stop!

Fall Out Boy left this morning! They're gone! You don't need to peer through the windows or pound on the glass anymore. Pete isn't going to hear you. He's back in Los Angeles. There's no reason you should be climbing the back gate of the hotel right now! Really, the guys left. They're not here. I promise.

What? No, I can't give them a note you made. Not even if you say "please" 456 times in a row.

Look, I realize Fall Out Boy coming to Punta Arenas is probably the biggest thing to happen in town since, well, ever. And I know you all mean well. But, really, all the chanting and pushing is getting kind of old. Also, I see you're wearing a school uniform. Shouldn't you be in class right now? Don't you have homework to do? Don't you have parents?!?!

What's that? No, I'm not in Fall Out Boy. Honestly, I'm not. You don't need to take a millon pictures of me! Seriously! What's that? You want me to sign your hand/backpack/notebook? Why? I know I'm one of only 15 Caucasians in this town, and I'm one of only 7 wearing skinny jeans, but I promise, I'm not in Fall Out Boy. Really.

You're starting to freak me out. Go home! It's over! What? No-no-no. Stop screaming.

You don't need to crowd me...I really can't breathe... Aaaaaaah!! Please...It's getting dark...Please!

Sincerely,

James Montgomery