Dear Russell Tovey,
Ok, we need to talk. I think you know why. While it's always nice of you to drop by for a cameo in one of my dreams, I think showing up in every single one of them last night was a little excessive. True, I went to bed feeling quite sick from a migraine and woke up feeling much better, so I suppose you could argue your presence had a salutary effect on my health, but still it's a little creepy, RT. It's like you're obsessed with me or something.
I mean when I was on that random cruise for some reason in the first dream, it was a pleasant surprise to see you. And when you pulled me aside to tell me that story about your father dying (is that even true, Russell??) I totally didn't even see that you were just trying to get me to drop my guard so you could swoop in with that perfect little kiss. Smooth, Tovey, real smooth. And you had to know when you showed up later on selling chocolate bars for a kid's fundraiser (and what's up with that, you are a grown man, RT) that I would have no choice but to buy the whole box, frittering away my imaginary dream money. I feel kind of manipulated!
So here's the deal. I'm super flattered by the attention, but I gave up celebrity crushes in high school, man! Ask Ewan McGregor and he'll tell you all about it. And in the years since then I've been weening myself off of unrequited love in general. So this really can't continue. Either put your money where your mouth is and come hang out with me in the real world like a mature adult, or stay out of my dreams and stop trying to torment me. If you do back off for a bit, I promise to get around to watching that TV show you are in now even though it sounds kind of lame apart from the fact that you are in it. Also, I will still root for you if by some miracle you get picked to be the 12th Doctor.
But we gotta keep this relationship professional, at least until we actually meet. And no, that one time in real life when I was standing 20 feet away from you at the National Theatre in London during a backstage tour doesn't count. You were busy hanging out with the other History Boys and I could hardly have interrupted to introduce myself! And since I can't make it over to London any time soon, you'll have to come here which I hardly think will be too inconvenient for you and is certainly more rational than infiltrating my dreams from half a world away.
I know you'll see reason. Thanks, and much love and respect,