Dear Simon Petrikov,
I would like you to know that, in this world, there is nothing that makes my heart pitter-pat like a tragic character. And, MAN, are you a tragic character.
(Also, you have ice powers, and we’ve already determined that as a quality I seek in my perfect man.)
But back to the tragedy! Oh, so much tragedy!
You were a normal, everyday archeologist, finding magical artifacts here and there. But then, one day, you found the magical artifact that changed your life! Oh! The abject tragedy! Oh! How I regret not having a thesaurus at work!
The crown! The terrible, horrible, wonderful crown! It gave you ice powers and drove you mad! You lost your fiancee, Betty! You lost your job as an archeologist! On the bright side, though, you did survive the apocalypse without undergoing a horrible mutation, which is more than you can say for most of humanity.
In addition to being a tragic figure, Simon Petrikov, you’re a pretty nice guy. You befriend a small little girl (my kingdom! My kingdom for a thesaurus!) and help her after the apocalypse, and before she turns into a vampire!
You like Cheers and know the theme song by heart! That’s so great!
Anyway, Simon Petrikov, what I’m trying to tell you is I adore you. I dote upon you. I care for you. I don’t need a damn thesaurus, Simon Petrikov! I love you!
So if you can’t find a princess willing to marry you — which I’m willing to bet that you won’t, because now that you’ve gone all mad with ice powers, you’re kind of creepy — look me up. I have a cheap plastic crown that I’m willing to cosplay in.