There is a letter from someone who wants to know if Quimby's sells periodicals for men into woman who burp "excessively loud." There's a letter from a Wisconsin prison that asks: "Do nice words get me a full catalog of your worst offerings?" There's a love letter to Mason that imagines her working at Quimby's a thousand years in the future with her head preserved in a glass jar. And a powder blue sport coat perfect for mimicking the owner of a fancy yacht. There are glossies of Backstreet Boys with aphorisms scribbled on back ("Change is the only constant"); a note from an author that explains he licked every page of every book he had sent the store; a large wooden stand-up that looks like a vampire hamster wearing a teddy bear mask; a cabinet drawer labeled "Fat N' Evil"; a letter of commendation from the U.S. State Department to Quimby's for its hospitality.