I no longer love you Mr Sark,
When you came into my life in Alias season one, you were great. You were young, stylish, cultured and British. You were evil to the core, dressed nicely, knew obscure martial arts, and always called for fine wines whilst being tortured. Yes, you were a little bit gay - even though you were sleeping with Syd's best friend Francie's evil lesbian twin. But we could forgive you that - she was a diva, after all. You were bad, and yet so good for me. Oh, and, yeah, you looked like this:
But all that's now changed. Now, in Season three, you've gone really, really evil. You're no longer charming, you've started buying duff sunglasses, and wearing combats, for goodness' sake. And Francie's gone downhill - I can't believe you'd be seen near all those silly feather boas and skirts she's nicked from Portobello Road.
You also killed your father - but first, you tortured him with one of those creme brulee torches. You're still magnificently gay, but I no longer like you.
Of course, if I'm going to be truthful, I think it's because of the hair. You look like a raped mole. It's rubbish: