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  • Dear Mrs. Seniorcat,

    Your cat may be a senior, but he is not the one buying the food; you are. And since you are not a senior, you can not be given the senior discount. It's no different than buying groceries for your Grandma.

    You are welcome to take your business anywhere you like, but I guarantee that nobody else offers a senior discount to young people who have elderly pets.

    Sincerely,
    Tom Katz, manager,
    Fur & Feathers Pet Supply

    * * * * *

    Dear PoshSuites Hotel manager,

    I can not believe what a rip off you guys are! I booked a week's stay at your place and decided to have a little fun. I ground food into the carpet, wrote all over the walls, even dropped a few #2s on the floor. Why not? I was on vacation, it's not my responsibility to clean up!

    Well, I got my credit card statement today, and you overcharged me nearly a thousand dollars! You said it was due to cleaning, but I know you were just looking to rip me off. Thieving jerks!

    Either refund my money and give me an additional $500,000 on top of it, or I'll be seeing you in court.

    Sincerely,
    Phil Thie-Slob

    (Yes, I based that on KuariKaydrith's recent post. It was too appalling to pass up!)
    I don't have an attitude problem. You have a perception problem.
    My LiveJournal
    A page we can all agree with!

    Comment


    • Dear Mr. Thie-Slob

      You call us a rip off? After what you did to our room, we had to call the health department and close for a week! So 5,000,000 are due, from you, in addition to the rest of the charges. Every other person in our hotel had to be refunded for their stays due to the smell from your actions. We have put your name on a list of clientel whom we will never rent from again.

      And as for thieving, you took our television off the wall. We'd want it back, but not after the mess you've left in our room, we'd rather just charge you for a new one. We'll see you in court, complete with your letter and our photographs, and the depositions from everyone who was sickened by your misbehavior and needed their money back so they could sleep in a clean hotel.


      Sincerely,
      Miss Lex Ury,
      PoshSuites Hotel manager.

      Dear Holiday Heaven Skiing School,

      With your name, did you mean that you intended to send your students to Heaven? I went to your place to lean how to ski so I could spent the weekend with my friends up on the mountain. The problem is, I was having a wonderful time, right up until I ran into a tree. Just because I was trying to do a stunt down the hill to impress my friends that your instructor was too chicken to try and teach us, that doesn't mean I have to lose my balance, lose control, and smack into a tree! It's your instructor's fault. Now I demand my medical bills paid, a total refund of my tuition, and a full apology. And you'll have to make all my friends have crashes of their own so they'll stop laughing at me!

      As I remember, while I was in the ambulance, the paramedics laughed when they heard what I'd been through. And when the medics told the doctor and the nurses, they laughed, too. I'm humiliated, and you're going to pay. If you don't, I also know a group of other students who bombed in their skiing holidays after they went to your school. We're all angry, and we'll all gladly introduce your school to some fire. It'll be dynamite!

      Signed,

      Mr. I Never-Listen.
      Customers should always be served . . . to the nearest great white.

      Comment


      • Dear Mr Never-Listen
        Well you did impress your friends didn't you? They were all very tickled by your display from the sound of it.You could repay your medical bills by doing it as some sort of paid performance.
        Enclosed is the bill for the repair and replacement of one pine tree which has been a much loved part of the ski resort for many years.
        PPS As a result of your antics our chalet girl Sophie had such a fit of the giggles she has had to seek medical advice for a bout of hiccups that ensued.Be glad you are not being charged her medical bills too.

        Yours sincerely, Mr E.Eagle Edwards(Ski Manager)
        Holiday Heaven Ski School

        ‐‐----‐--------------------
        Dear Kreative Kiddiez Kreche
        I am outraged! Your name says you are creative and yet you have gone out of your way to remove all trace of creativity from your creche.l brought my son Willibald to join in the session of singing time. The songs sung were rather boring and unimaginative l felt so all l did was teach(or try to before l was removed) some more amusing words to them. Wilibald always prefers my versions and it seemed the other kids did too . Indeed as your own staff said when l was forced to leave 'Theyve been singing that version for over half an hour now.' Clearly they found it enjoyable and there was no reason at all for you to exclaim that 'l hope their damn parents dont hear them singing that'. Children need imagination. My Willibald's creative genius may have been stifled completely. I therefore insist you pay for the therapy needed for him to recover from the trauma of seeing his father not only having his talent for lyrical wit mocked but also the humiliating experience of being barred from the creche after just one session. Despite your efforts his genius still flowers...together we composed a most amusing verse about your staff!
        Mr Oldman from Nantucket
        The Copyright Monster has made me tell you that my avatar is courtesy of the wonderful Alice XZ.And you don't want to annoy the Copyright Monster.

        Comment


        • Dear Mr. Oldman,

          I know what you're up to. You're slipping your disgusting lyrics into innocent kids' songs. You and Hugh G. Rection are trying to corrupt our youth so they can be a generation of perverts like you and Rection.

          You're day of reckoning is coming.

          Sincerely,

          Pare A. Noid

          -----

          Dear Officer Johnson,

          I just received a concerning letter from someone named Pare A. Noid. I remembered Mr. Oldman get kicked out of the singing recital for trying to slip dirty lyrics into songs. We had nothing to do with that. I'm afraid of what this day of reckoning is, but it has both my wife Cousen and me afraid. Please don't let the Noid family get us.

          We'll be hiding with another couple in Horneytown in the mean time.

          Sincerely,

          Hugh G. Rection
          Last edited by catcul; 11-21-2019, 02:16 AM.
          This site proves Corey Taylor right. Man really is a "four letter word."

          I'm now using my Deviant Art page to post my humor.

          Comment


          • Dear Mr. Rection,

            You and your wife have nothing to fear. Officer Johnson has arrested Mr. Noid and returned him to our care. Now, Dr. X is off of the case, but Dr. Z is a specialist in cases such as Mr. Noid's. The day of reckoning can be, shall we say, unpleasant, but I and my fellow medical staff are more powerful than Mr. Noid. We can heal better than he can harm; just as Dr. X.

            So you and your wife haven't got any reason to be afraid. Mr. Noid can't hurt you now. However, Dr. X is running sex addict classes as part of his light duties, should you and or your wife wish to attend.

            Have a good day, and some tranquilizers, compliments of Dr. Z.

            Respectfully yours,
            Nurse Y, head nurse of You'll Never See Them Again Asylum.

            ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

            Dear Kompromat,

            I went to your store to wash my money, which my girlfriend gave me, but it was so bloody and so dirty. It just needed to be laundered right away, and my hands washed. Now, I was given a list of instructions, like all clients of the Kompromat are, or so I was told. And I read those rules over. But all this do this, do that, don't do this, avoid that, what poppycock! I did exactly what I wanted.

            My money came out clean, but my life got ruined anyway! Why? Because someone from your cleaning services called my wife and told her about my affair! Now she's divorcing me, but at least she wants none of my formerly dirty money. In fact, she says she wants nothing from me but away.

            But it had to have been you people who told her about my dirty money being laundered, because you were the only ones I trusted. I had to explain why I needed to wash my bloody money in order to get you guys to launder it. I got it from my girlfriend. And now I've lost both my wife, and my girlfriend!

            So you people are going to give me a new girlfriend, and a stack of clean money to make up for the nightmare I've had to endure. If you don't, why, I'll go to the police and tell them all about you! And if that doesn't work, I've read several other people's reasons for coming to the Kompromat, and I'm not afraid to engage in a little blackmail myself. You people are going to make this right for me, or else!

            Signed,
            Mr. Crimson Handed.
            Customers should always be served . . . to the nearest great white.

            Comment


            • Dear Mr. Handed,

              We were wondering what was in the bag that you threw in our washing machine and dryer. Since we are a self-service laundromat, we don't keep records on who comes into our business. If your wife found out about your girlfriend, we had nothing to do with that.

              By the way, Detective Sara Pearson would love to meet you,

              Sincerely,
              Ty D. Owney

              -----

              Dear City Police Dept.,

              I can believe that you haven't done something about that maniac in that red SUV. I was riding my bicycle down the street when that maniac T-bone me in that SUV. When the police officer arrived, he said he checked something called a "dash cam," and said that I ran a red light and that I was at fault. I can't believe that officer would make such a spurious allegation. I think he was friends with SUV guy.

              I demand you fire that officer, put Mr. SUV in jail and send that heap of junk to the scrap yard. Also, make Mr. SUV pay for my medical bills.

              Sincerely,

              Almos Flattilla
              This site proves Corey Taylor right. Man really is a "four letter word."

              I'm now using my Deviant Art page to post my humor.

              Comment


              • Dear Mr. Flattilla,

                The officer was right about you running a red light so he won't be fired and he doesn't know the man in the SUV. Therefore, your requests are denied.

                Sincerely,

                C. H. Ief
                Police Captain


                Dear Restaurant Manager,

                Where do you get off not hiring my best friend Buster? He needs a job to help pay for his dog food, dog toys, dog treats, and his vet bills. I demand you hire Buster and allow him to do whatever job he wants. If you don't, I will sue your restaurant for discrimination.

                Sincerely,

                Juan Mydogtowork
                My Fanfic Page
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                My Social Group
                My Pet Social Group
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                Comment


                • Dear Mr Mydogtowork,

                  Where do you get off bringing our worst enemy to our restaurant? Dogs don't get jobs, human! We aren't actually working here, either. We are here for the mice, just as you humans come for us. Humans just go crazy for us as we rub on their legs and purr for them, greet them and make them feel welcomed. Worthy humans are granted our love and affections, and they love watching us play in the playpens, where we might interact with humans who pick up the toys, or we might not. After all, all this interaction is exhausting.

                  The last thing we needed in here was a wild beast! In case you haven't noticed it, human, you are supposed to pay for his treats and his food and his toys. Dogs do not have jobs, except for those service dogs. They actually know how to behave themselves, even in a place like this. But you know what? They don't get paid anything. Besides, even we don't enter the kitchen until after midnight, when the rats and mice try to come in, not that they last long . . . We have human slaves for kitchen duties when we're open. What makes you think we'd let a filthy, unbathed, unclean wolf into our kitchen? The food, for you humans, is put away and the kitchen is cleaned. Then it's cleaned up again in the morning to make sure it's safe for humans to eat. A beast, especially when the kitchen is open, would only contaminate everything!

                  And if you attempt to sue us for discrimination, we will counter-sue you for emotional distress and the fleas he brought with him. He's lucky he only got slapped a few times. One of the chefs was about to get a knife and make soup out of him. So, as far as we are concerned, get out and stay out!


                  Sincerely,

                  King Neko,

                  Neko's Japanese Cat Cafe.

                  --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

                  Dear Realistic Games Co.,

                  I was shopping at Sprawl-Mart for Christmas on Black Friday, and what did I see when I was shopping there? What I saw on the shelf was your Corrected Board Games Collection. This collection had Monopoly - With Employment and Income Inequality, where everyone is dealt cards at the start based on your position in life. Most people only get 7.25 for passing Go, while a few who were born to wealthy parents get 1,000,000,000 . . . for passing Go. The box says that you're all trying to buy property in order to charge rents so you can rise up, but it became clear that the poorer players can't buy any property until they've been around Go several times, while the well-born can buy anything right from the start. It also said on the box "You can also try to work hard at your job to make it, but beware of the 'Sabotage' and 'You're Fired' cards players wealthier than you can play on you to send you right back to the bottom.

                  There was also Not a Clue, where fictional politicians were attempting to run an investigation, and each was a specialist in one field. The problem was that they were all useless in studying other fields. They were supposed to work together, but the temptations to get ahead by thinking only of yourself were too great, yet the only way to win the game was to solve the problem card you were all investigating, and get something passed to fix it, with agreement of any four of the six possible players . . .

                  It had Connect For Everyone, where you had to rack up and link yourself up to so many different social media sites, always improving the technology you used. It didn't matter if you couldn't afford it - if you didn't buy it and keep linking up, you'd be left behind by the other players. The problem was that the more you expand your social media networks, and maintain them, the fewer time and resource cards you have to work with. Yet you're supposed to have the highest of both connections and cards at the end of the game.

                  Then there was Diabetic Land, where you were encouraged to visit the various food groups while climbing the food pyramid, or you could take the sugar shortcut that produced the second board, with ice cream and chocolate and candy canes and lollipops, and constant checking of your blood sugar meter no matter which path you took. If you wasted your insulin cards and had none left, you would lose the game. Only the final remaining player would actually win.

                  But the game that absolutely infuriated me was the one my child grabbed off the shelf and wouldn't let go of, Chutes and Ladders - How it Really Works. In that game, trying to do good things and help others would either do nothing but give you Kindness cards, sometimes, but usually you sent back to start. Doing bad things could make you fall down a chute a little bit you could easily recover from. Only a couple of the really horrible things could actually make you fall a long way down, and how dare you put those awful things on squares in a child's game?!? But the game had Cheat cards, Wealth cards, and Fame cards, any one of which could be used to turn a chute into a ladder, no matter how bad of a chute it was. The rules never actually said what the Kindness cards did, but the rules were clear they were useless to use on either ladders or chutes, and they couldn't protect you from anything.

                  Now, admittedly, when I first came to the store, I used my cash to bribe a greeter so I could get into the store before anyone else. One employee tried to stop me from breaking the rules and told me bribing her wouldn't work. I was to wait in line like everyone else. Instead, I then bribed a manager and had that woman fired. She left the store in tears, while I blissfully began to shop.

                  Then I searched the store, looking for, well, I couldn't tell what. I knew what my son and the other four people on my Christmas list wanted, but I didn't care about any of their requests or advice. What mattered was what I wanted! Only I didn't know, exactly, what it was I wanted, so I just went searching for whatever struck my fancy until I finally realized I should investigate the board games because my kid kept screaming that he wanted a board game.

                  Plus, I kept taking pictures of every idiot I saw on this Black Friday. Every punch and blow and fight, everyone who put little things into their pockets, everyone who took things out of other people's carts. Every single one I saw, I posted on social media sites, even signing up for sites I've never used before just so I could post the videos there. Now, the more pictures I took, however, the less attention I was paying to my son and, eventually, I lost track of him and didn't even notice.

                  And at the board games section, there was a young woman who stopped shopping to help a man who seemed to be having a heart attack. While she had given up her turn to do some good that won her nothing, I used the opening she made in the swirling mass of shoppers to climb up an overturned store display so I could reach the board games.

                  My son came back covered in chocolates and sweets that he had opened and began eating, but I didn't care. I just picked him up, put him in my cart, and let him pick a game. I had to shut him up, since he kept saying he didn't feel good, but I'm not hearing that. Not on Black Friday. He's not going to go to the restroom every thirty minutes. Not in this crowd, not with these deals. He can control it! Meanwhile, to be sure that everything in the games was all right for my little man, I opened every board game I wanted to see and either read the rules, or in the case of Battlestore, where the workers try to protect the stores from invasion by evil shoppers who act more like looters, all the while trying to keep the store clean and avoid the spineless managers who want workers to surrender. I didn't like how the rules were all about workers were supposed to do, so I threw them away. A game about stores should be about the shoppers' experience, not some puny workers!

                  I was already getting livid by looking at the rules of all these games I opened. But I was so offended when I read the rules to C&L that I threw the box on the ground and stomped on the pieces. I started screaming and demanding a manager. After two hours, a worn-out manager in a ravaged uniform, another thing you need to fix because he was totally unpresentable for a Black Friday, or any other day, finally limped my way.

                  I started making my demands, but he merely, and slowly, collected all the wrappers of the food my son ate while I'd left him behind, and dropped them in my cart. Then he collected all the games I'd opened, even the pieces I'd stepped on, and put them in my cart. He then whispered to me, begging me to pay for what I'd done. So I slapped him and pushed him into the crowd. The crowd just walked all over him, and I posted that on social media, too. Then stormed out, taking my cart and just leaving the store with it. But in my haste, I forget my son.

                  I demand that my son be returned to me - in clean clothes because I will not have a son covered in chocolate. Not in my house! And I want a million dollars in compensation and the right to come in and shop, without paying, for anything I want.

                  If you don't do what I say, not only can I use social media against you, I'll just wait until payday and then buy your store and fire and ban everyone I don't like! Starting with that unpresentable manager! So do as I command, or else!

                  Signed,

                  Ms. Ann Karen Whatsright
                  Last edited by Kristev; 12-13-2019, 02:59 AM.
                  Customers should always be served . . . to the nearest great white.

                  Comment


                  • OOC: The reason I described the games as I did is because Ann Karen is guilty, one way or another, of the horrible behaviors described in the games she's so angry about.
                    Customers should always be served . . . to the nearest great white.

                    Comment


                    • Dear Ms. Whatsright,

                      You caused destruction to our store, caused our manager that day to go on medical leave, and we had CPS take your son. Therefore, we are pressing charges against you and you won't get your son back until you're out of prison, if you ever do.

                      Sincerely,

                      G. Amer
                      Manager



                      Dear Department Store Manager,

                      I came to your store to shop for Christmas gifts and decorations since I love Christmas just as much as Mary Christmas-Freak. Since I believe Christmas is a time for giving, I filled the cart with Christmas decorations and gifts and walked out of the store with the cart of items without paying. When a security guard came to stop me, I punched him, knocked him over with the cart, raced to my car, put the items in my car, and drove off. I demand a $2000 gift card, the security guard fired, and Christmas items delivered to my house for free, or I will get in contact with Mary Christmas-Freak and tell her that your store doesn't care about Christmas.

                      Sincerely,

                      Christy Masthief
                      My Fanfic Page
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                      Comment


                      • Dear Ms. Masthief,

                        Thank you for providing me with your address. I'll be sending Officer Friendly over to give you a set of shiny silver attached bracelets and a long stay at the lovely Greybar Hotel. Merry Christmas!

                        Regards,
                        Marshall Fields, manager,
                        Noveau Riche Department Store

                        * * *

                        Dear Chief of Police,

                        I've got bad news for you. Enclosed is a letter I got from a shoplifter who badly injured one of my security guards and got away with $3000 in stolen goods. Worse, she claims to know Mary Christmas-Freak personally. Please tell me you still have that psycho in solitary confinement? The last thing we need is these two teaming up to wreak Holiday Havoc everywhere.

                        Sincerely,
                        Marshall Fields, manager,
                        Noveau Riche Department Store
                        I don't have an attitude problem. You have a perception problem.
                        My LiveJournal
                        A page we can all agree with!

                        Comment


                        • Dear Mr. Fields,

                          I've got good news for you. Mary is safely confined at You'll Never See Them Again Asylum, under the personal care of Dr. Z, supervised via one-way mirror by a now armed Dr. X and/or Nurse Y at all times during treatment. You've no need to fear.

                          Sincerely,

                          Chief Cap. E. Bill,
                          Chief of Police on Shark-free Island.

                          -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

                          Dear British Skygates Charter Flights,


                          I am furious with my treatment at your airline last week. You see, I found a website that gives out deals if you sign up for it, and after I signed up, I was granted a points that I could redeem for a free flight with British Skygates Charter Flights. Now, I was in Britain on business, and so I'd gone out and partied with my new friends that I met in the pub every night of my week here on this business trip. But I'd partied so hard that I overslept and missed my flight home. The airline said that I could get another flight tomorrow, but that wouldn't work because I had to get back to my office tomorrow morning. There was no way I could be back at my office and be waiting until noon tomorrow for the next flight back home at the same time. So that meant I had to use the points for a flight today. After all, if I wasn't back in my office by tomorrow morning, I'd be fired. An immediate flight was the only way home.

                          When I got to British Skygates, I informed them of my problem. Though it was inconvenient, they were able to pull out an older plane that they kept on hand for just this sort of occasion. They insisted on having the mechanics go over it first before they let me on it, but all he did was fly around and chat up some woman in the tower over the radio! Finally, he did land, saying that "It checks out all right. This'll get you home." I was overjoyed.

                          So I go into the office to pay, and what does your employee, Caitlyn, say to me? "Sir, I don't know what these points you're trying to offer me are. Let me look into this." So she does, leaving me to get angrier and angrier. Finally, she calls her boss, Luke, over. They look at everything I've provided, then look at each other.
                          "I'm terribly sorry, sir," Luke says, "but I think you've been conned. We haven't got a program like this, and we don't know this company."
                          Now, I'll have you know that I've gotten all kinds of deals and bargains out of Shiftyco.com, so I refused to believe that these points were some kind of con. But Luke was quite insisted.

                          I was absolutely livid! I screamed and shouted. Then I knocked over a rack full of pamphlets and kicked over a wastebasket. Then Luke shouts at me and tries to get me not to break the decorations.

                          His voice at this point is so grating to me that I just up and grab him, demanding he let me use my points. As I rear my fist back to punch him, Caitlyn calls out to me. "He'll gladly let you use your points, but we'll need to go call Bobby for help."
                          She writes a note and leaves it by the register.
                          I release Luke. Caitlyn leads him back to the register, pointing at the note, then leaves, presumably to go get Bobby. Luke tries to type my points into the computer, but it keeps rejecting, or so he says. This takes a long time, and I'm just getting madder and madder! Suddenly, Luke looks relieved, and the next thing I know, Caitlyn is back, with two police officers.
                          "There's the barking mad git, right there!" she said.
                          I turn and try to punch one of the policemen, only to have the other one handcuff me.

                          Now I'm in jail and its all your fault!

                          I've lost my job by now, and I don't know if I'm ever going to get home. They don't seem to care about my constitutional rights. I don't know how this system works. They sent me someone from the consulate, but I just sent them away because they couldn't bail me out.

                          I'm blaming your company for all of this! I demand that you get me out of here and give me free flights for the rest of my life. Fire Luke and Caitlyn, and while you're at it, fire that flyboy mechanic, too! Make your flights cheaper, and accept shiftyco.com deals! Plus, I want you to get me back home to the States, get me my job back, and give me ten million dollars in compensation for this! If you don't, I can call my new friends and have them tear your place apart. Besides, I'm getting to know a few people in this jail, people who are dangerous. Some of them have promised to give you a visit if I ask them to. So you'd better fold, fast.

                          Signed,

                          Mr. Essy Lee Angered.
                          Customers should always be served . . . to the nearest great white.

                          Comment


                          • Dear Mr. Angered,

                            We got in contact with your boss and confirmed that you've been fired. Also, shiftyco.com is a scam site. We've contacted your family and they'll be contacting a lawyer for you. All of your other requests are denied, though.

                            Sincerely,

                            B. R. Itishairport
                            Manager



                            Dear Grocery Store Manager,

                            I was doing my shopping and headed for the register when I was done. Since I'm very important, I cut in line, and the rude checker told me to wait in line. I told her that I was the CEO of a very important company, and that CEO's don't wait in line. She refused to ring me up so I walked out with my cart of groceries without paying. I demand immediate service when I come to the register and to fire anyone who refuses including the rude checker who refused to serve me just because I cut in line. If you don't, I will contact my friends and family and give them permission to shoplift from your store.

                            Sincerely,

                            Mrs. Linecutter
                            My Fanfic Page
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                            Comment


                            • Dear Mrs. Linecutter

                              I was the worker who told you to not to cut in line. You see, my husband and I own this store, and it's a family business. So, in a way, I am a CEO myself. And now that you've given me written proof of intent to shoplift, I am going to forward this to the police. What I'm not going to do is fire my two sons, my daughter-in-law, or my husband. But I will fire you as a customer. Goodbye.

                              Sincerely,

                              Mrs. Quina D. Castle,

                              Co-owner of Castle Family Grocers.

                              ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

                              Dear Papercheckmate company,

                              I ordered your brand new Poison Pens from your website. See, I just loved the colors, and your slogan, "Pens to make others die for", was absolutely great! Even your commercial, which shows people receiving letters written in ink from the Poison Pens, only to have them die from reading those letters. I couldn't resist, so I ordered five dozen!

                              Now, you see, I have a lot of enemies. People just can't seem to stand me. Just because I show up making demands and expecting to be treated like the star that I am. After all, let's face it, I'm a famous musician all over Bluetube. It's just a matter of time before I get the big contract!

                              It's just that, as some spiteful, jealous reviewer named Julie, who once was a member of Yvonne and the Banshees and is now a musicologist who studies the indie music scene, told me, 'The personae you adopt in your songs is wonderful, but in person, you're a complete demon who treats others as if they live only to serve you. It's like night and day.' How dare she tell me that? And, so it seems, this slanderous rumor has been spreading all over Bluetube and the minor fan magazines and websites. I had to do something! My now ex-therapist, Dr. X, suggested that I could attempt to change my behavior and take some new medications he'd just learned about to make me a calmer person who can get along with people better.

                              But that's not what I wanted! If everyone has a problem with me, it's everyone else who is wrong! So, I ordered your Poison Pens and wrote angry cease and desist letters to Dr. X, Julie, and everyone else who says the same things they say! How can I prove to the world that I'm the greatest singer there ever was and expand beyond Bluetube unless my detractors are silenced, or killed?

                              The problem is, something's wrong with the pens, because the people I wrote letters to didn't die! How dare you misrepresent your pens this way? When I buy something, I expect it to work, damn it!

                              So I'm going to sue you for fraud and misrepresentation unless you make this write, I mean, right, and give me pens with ink that is actually poisonous so that the letters I write to people will actually kill them!

                              Bitterly yours,

                              Miss Belle Siren,
                              Customers should always be served . . . to the nearest great white.

                              Comment


                              • Dear Miss Siren,

                                No self respecting company would sell an ink that would kill a recipient of a letter written by those pens. The pens would also kill you as well. The commercials are part of an edgy campaign to sell pens.

                                We have sent your letter to the proper authorities.

                                Sincerely,

                                Papercheckmate

                                -----

                                Dear VRV,

                                I saw a cartoon on your website called Welcome to Demon School! Iruma-Kun. It's about a kid whose parents sold him to a demon. That demon sends him off to school to learn. That kid thinks that his life has improved.

                                I know what you're up to. You're trying to guide children to demonic practices and worshiping The Adversary.

                                Your day of reckoning is coming.

                                Sincerely,

                                Pare A. Noid
                                This site proves Corey Taylor right. Man really is a "four letter word."

                                I'm now using my Deviant Art page to post my humor.

                                Comment

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