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  • Dear Anita & Wanda Personalserver,

    We assign more than one table to each server so you won't get a personal server here. Actually, you won't at all since you're banned for threatening to burn our lettuce.

    Sincerly,

    Sal Ed Lover
    Manager



    Dear Office Manager,

    You had no right to write me up. All I did was show up in a bikini and sandals on casual Friday. I demand you reverse the write up. If you don't, I will post on Facebook that you make employees wear normal clothes on casual Friday.

    Sincerely,

    Mrs. Casual
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    Comment


    • Dear Mrs. Casual,

      I'm puzzled why you would wear a bikini when it's cold outside. Although you seem to be proud of your body, a bank is not the appropriate place to show up in what could be your underwear. Please review our dress code before we send you home again.

      Sincerely,

      Robert Banks

      -----

      To whom it may concern,

      When I walk into your business, I want breasts. Yesterday, all I saw were legs and thighs. I just want two big, meaty breasts. Is that really too much to ask from a chicken place at lunch time?

      Sincerely,

      Pol Tree
      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. Tree,

        Unfortunately, chicken breasts are very popular. I will see what I can do about getting more in.

        Sincerely,

        C. H. Icken
        Manager



        Dear Fish and Chips Place,

        I went to your restaurant and ordered fish and chips. However, instead of potato chips, I got French fries. I was steamed so I dumped the fries on my server and told everyone that ordered fish and chips that they were being ripped off as I stormed out. I demand you change the name of the restaurant to Fish and Fries or I will sue for false advertising.

        Sincerely,

        Mrs. Critic
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        Comment


        • Mrs. Critic:

          "Fish and Chips" are a creation of our English friends. They refer to french fries as "chips". What we refer to as "chips" they refer to as "crisps".

          And now that we have your name and address, you are hereby banned from our establishment, and we have forwarded your information to local authorities and the server in case they decide they want to press assault charges.

          Please do not have a pleasant day,

          S. E. Afood, Owner
          Uncle Albert's Fish-n-Chips.

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

          Dear Robot Fighting League:

          I went to your competition expecting to see REAL robots, like the Terminator or Data from Star Trek fighting each other!

          Instead people just had remote controlled vehicles with weapons crashing into each other! These are NOT robots!

          So I demand my expenses be covered, and I demand all my money back, plus 100 million dollars so I can start a correct robot fighting league! If you don't, next time I come I will show up with water and short circuit all of these things so none of them can be used, and I will destroy your "fighting" arena!

          How dare you mislead people like this!

          Professor John I.Q. Nerdelbaum Frink Jr.
          Skilled programmers aren't cheap. Cheap programmers aren't skilled.

          Comment


          • Dear Professor Frink Jr.,

            We have analyzed your complaint and have determined that you have misunderstood the situation. It was not the robots that were actually fighting in the arena. The robots were all of the rest of us actually running the toys we were fighting with. You should not have even been admitted entrance to the event, but we have run check after check and found that there was a faulty security sentry. It has since been replaced by a newer model.

            But thanks to your letter, one of our participants, Max Imum Overdrive, has suggested that we alter the game. We will no longer play with remote-control vehicles. Now we will bring captured humans in to fight for our entertainment. Do you wish to be of the gladiators?

            Signed,

            Vickie Small-Wonder, on behalf of Commander Data, the Terminator, Wall-E, Winona Call & the Bishop series, Robby the Robot, Johnny 5, Lieutenant Ilia, and ad infinitum of our top-of-the-line Robot Fighting League.

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

            Dear Maydaytag Appliance Store,

            Direct this letter to the owner, because the manager was absolutely no help!

            Dear owner, I went to your business about two weeks ago with my tax refund, and I purchased all new kitchen appliances, especially a new washer-dryer combination with my domestic partner, Sterling Character. I call him the domestic partner because he stays at home and takes care of the home front, while I work. The problem is, he left for a week to attend to his dying mother after her sudden stroke, taking his adopted daughter, Justine, with him, and I stayed at home. I had to eat out every night because, while he cooked me up a week's worth of food before he left, when I tried to use it, the microwave blew up on me It's faulty and defective. But your manager wouldn't issue me a refund "I see the packaging on your machine says quite clearly that you are not supposed to stick metal in the microwave." I did not put any metal in the microwave. There was nothing on that plate except the steak, the corn, the ketchup, the knife, and the fork!

            Oh, but it gets worse! I attempted to use the stove, and damned near had a fire! I bought a frozen pizza and put it on the pan, and set it up to cook. I turned it up to 500, and let it cook for an hour. Next thing I know, I've got a fire and it gets so bad the fire department drags me out of my own house! They call my partner up, and tell him what happened to me, and he demands to speak to me. "Kent, didn't I tell you not to use the oven because I didn't have a chance to clean it yet? What happened to all the food I prepared for you?" When I told him about the microwave, he said to me that "I have had it, Kent. You're fantastic at work, or so you say, though your boss disagrees and often calls me up complaining about you, only to have me vouch for you and help you keep your job, but I can't turn my back on you for a minute at home! Thank goodness I took Justine with me so she could have time to see Big Granny. Leaving her alone with you would probably have been the death of her! You burned our house! She could've been killed if she wasn't safe with me. You could've been killed, all because you don't listen! We're over, Kent. I'm staying right here to tend to my mother in her final weeks! If Justine and I have anything left that isn't burned to a crisp, you can mail it to us." And before I could argue, he hung up.

            I blame your company for the loss of both my house and my family! It's entirely on you, and I expect compensation. Oh, and there's one thing that's almost as bad, and other reason I had to eat out. I put all my dishes in the washer-drying, and when the machine was finished, I found that your washing machine destroyed all of my dishes! Not one thing survived! How dare you sell products like this?

            You will give me one million dollars, as well as a new place to live. And you'll get Sterling to forgive me and come back to me, along with his adopted daughter, Justine! And you'll do it now! Because if you don't, I've since learned what happens if you spray a running garden hose (one of the few appliances you sold me that actually works) into uncovered electric sockets . . . Don't think I won't do it right there during your busiest time if I don't get my way!

            Signed,

            Mr. Kent B. Trusted.
            Last edited by Kristev; 05-21-2018, 11:19 AM.
            Customers should always be served . . . to the nearest great white.

            Comment


            • Dear Mr. Trusted,

              Knives and forks are usually made of metal and you don't need to cook pizza at 500 for an hour.
              Pizza usually goes in the oven or a microwave. Also, dishes get cleaned in a dishwasher and not a washing machine. Therefore, you'll get exactly what you deserve: nothing.

              Sincerely,

              A. P. Pliance
              Manager



              Dear Supermarket Manager,

              Your rude front end manager had no right to make me leave. All I was doing was watching my daughter and making sure she actually works since this is her first job. I demand you tell the front end manager to mind her own business and allow me to watch my daughter all I want. If you don't, I'll have my daughter wear a special bracelet to work which'll have a hidden camera in it so I can watch her every move.

              Sincerely,

              Wanda Spyonmydaughter
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              Comment


              • Dear Mrs. Spyonmydaughter,

                Our front end manager, Mrs. Boundaries, had every right to make you leave. Watching your daughter for two hours, making her so afraid that she screwed up her job, and bothering her whenever she messed up because of you, was more than enough for him to tell you to get out.

                "I hereby tell you to mind your own business. Now we understand why your daughter insisted on living with her father instead of you after the divorce. Bracelets aren't in the store's dress code, so she couldn't wear it even if you want.

                But she has given me leave to tell you that her father, your ex-husband, has filed a restraining order against you on her behalf. She works every day but Saturday and Sunday, so except for those two days, you are barred from the premises.

                Sincerely,

                Mr. Gates,

                Save-U More Supermarket Manager.

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

                Dear Renew You InnerBeauty Parlor,

                I met my friend, Deanna Manding, for lunch at the Elegance Only restaurant, our favorite place. We love to scream at the staff and grouse about the other patrons, and the poor people outside. In fact, we love to complain about everyone and everything else. But we look beautiful, so the Elegance Only restaurant management adores us and gives us everything we ask.

                Well, when Dee Manding came in to meet me, she was practically beaming. She said she'd been to a new beauty parlor yesterday, and that she'd been going for the last couple of weeks. She didn't seem too much different, just a little, and yet, she was glowing.
                I immediately notice something is wrong when our waitress comes to us, and Dee apologizes to her for her previous behavior. The waitress and I are stunned. Just last month, Dee and I criticized the waitress so badly, she cried.

                The more I talk to Dee, the more upset I get. She raves and raves, but when I tell her she only looks a little different, she replied, "I know, but I feel like the weight of the world is off of my shoulders. My mother, my sister, and my ex-husband all seem to enjoy my company now. They like me now, and I like that. So I have a standing appointment with the parlor every Thursday afternoon. My ex-husband even wants to start meeting on Friday nights again, like we used to do before we were married. So, I go to the parlor every Thursday afternoon.
                "I've even gone back to my maiden name, Deanna Lightful. Even my ex-husband agrees that, even if we were to remarry, he thinks calling me Dee Lightful is more becoming than Dee Manding."

                When she gets up to leave, she gives the waitress a fifty dollar tip, in person. When I try to argue, Dee tells me that she knew exactly what she was doing, calling it back pay for all those other tips she should've gotten from us, but never did.
                I go to confront Dee, but when I see Dee, she's giving twenty dollars to a woman on the streets with a child so they can eat in the restaurant. This grubby woman and her child, not only allowed in, but permitted to eat on Dee's dime? Something's gone very wrong.

                So I go to the beauty parlor, and I find Dee. I demand to know what's going on, but Dee gets called away to do her massage, and her yoga.
                I talk to people, and find that this is a group of men and women who feel that they're on the wrong track and want to make improvements in themselves. For instance, a husband who is about to hit his wife, but stops himself, and starts going to the beauty parlor. When she sees the change in him, she goes along, too, and now they've never been a closer couple, they say. As if they've fallen freshly in love again after every time they leave.
                I notice that virtually no significant changes are made to anyone's looks, just minor touch-ups. But the staff don't care, saying that's not the goal.
                Dee comes out, barely changed but practically glowing. She finally tells me that this is the inner beauty parlor, something she says she told me before during our lunch, but I must not have heard.

                Well, I grab a piece of pipe from outside and smash up the place. Everyone is shocked, and no one seemed able to react to it. But when I'm finished, they all say, "Ally, we forgive you. Can we help you now?"
                I throw the pipe at someone and run from the place.

                I don't approve of the brainwashing job you've done on my former friend, Dee. And I'm absolutely disgusted by this letter I got saying that I'm expected to pay for the damage and the medical bills. I'm not paying for a fraudulent beauty parlor that doesn't even . . .
                I demand that you become a real beauty parlor and that you undo whatever brainwashing you've done on my friend. I don't care if the entire neighborhood loves my friend Dee Lightful. I want my Dee Manding back!

                If you don't, my beauty and my money give me more than enough power in town to see to it your business license is revoked! And I want a free makeover and ten million dollars! But don't mess with my mind!

                Signed,

                Mrs. Ally Boutmy Looks.
                Customers should always be served . . . to the nearest great white.

                Comment


                • Dear Mrs. Looks,

                  What you did was destruction of property. Therefore, you are banned from the beauty parlor until the bill is paid in full.

                  Sincerely,

                  I. N. Nerbeauty
                  Owner



                  Dear Prison Warden Manager,

                  Where do you get off sending my daughter to death row? All she did was take the blame for my planting dynamite in a hotel building. I demand you reverse her sentence at once. If you don't, I will smash the windows of the prison buses and blame you for it.

                  Sincerely,

                  Ann Gelicmom
                  Last edited by purplecat41877; 09-05-2018, 07:49 AM.
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                  • Dear Mrs. Gelicmom,

                    A new investigation shows that indeed, you are correct. Your daughter did nothing except plead guilty because you forced her to. You, however, are as guilty as sin. So we'll see what we can do to make this right. The cops are already coming for you.

                    Sincerely,

                    Attorney General Fairman.

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

                    Dear Sprawl Mart,

                    We have consumed our last bit of goods at the local Misfire, and so we'd decided that the best place for us to go and stock up is your store.
                    We've read the reviews about ourselves. People say we're like a swarm of locusts, except that there are more of us. So many of us, in fact, that Shopper-B-Gone doesn't work on us! Not even C. E. O. strength Manager-B-Gone phases us anymore!
                    They say we clean out every store that we've been in, and they're right, we do. And that our buzzing sounds like "Gimmie!" in a cacophonic mass, and we've stopped to listen. Yeah, they're right about that, too.
                    So we went to your store, demanding our free things, as we always do. There were so many of us that we, as always, crowd out the other shoppers, and we never leave until we all get goodies for free. Every store's employees seem to fear us, and with good reason.
                    And yet, this time, when we get there, what do we find? The store was closed and the only people there were the four girls from Lioness Pest Control, all of them wearing protective clothing and breathers. Every door, every window, and every way in were sealed from the inside, as if the four girls didn't want anyone to go in except for themselves.
                    So we found the manager, who was outside the store, watching the girls act through the window in a mask, and we asked him why we couldn't go in. He trembled and was absolutely terrified of us. But he wouldn't answer, and so we all stung him. He screamed and screamed and screamed, until the girls from Lioness came out and threatened us with smoke and catnip essential oil. We couldn't stand it and broke away from him!

                    One of the girls took him to his car and stayed with him, using the edge of a credit card to remove the stingers. Then she used some kind of giant pen to stick him, and called 911, then drove him to the hospital.

                    The other three girls used the smoke and the oil to keep us at bay, then returned to the store, sealed the door, and continued their work. We got up to the window and let our "Gimmies" be heard loudly, and the girls responded with a new and more powerful form of Shopper-B-Gone! We're immune to that stuff, so this shouldn't have worked on us, but it did.

                    We left, driven away. We found online that their superior, Leona Pride, happens to be a chemist and that she found a way to refine Shopper-B-Gone to make it stronger against certain pests, including us. Now we're going to have to evolve all over again! And we'd learned that one of your employees read about us, heard that we were at Misfire in your town just a few days ago, and planned to come to Sprawl Mart next, told her manager, and somehow convinced the manager to call Lioness Pest Control to protect the store from us before we arrived! We're so mad we could sting, at least, those of us still alive after sacrificing our stingers to make that manager talk.


                    We demand that you open your store for us and give us everything inside that store for free! And we demand that you fire Lioness Pest Control and tell Leona Pride to make an antidote so she can't stop us anymore! If you don't, we'll go straight to the Bee's Knees news network. Once that hive gets going, your discriminatory ways will be exposed for all to see! And we'll file lawsuits! All two million of us. At the very least, filing for the wrongful deaths of those of us who died dealing with that snooty manager, who never did say a word to us except for his screams.

                    Our queen is waiting for your reply, and that's bad for you, 'cause she doesn't like to wait!

                    Signed,

                    The Cult of the Free Bees. We come as a swarm to any store we please and you give us free stuff, or else . . .
                    Last edited by Kristev; 10-27-2018, 08:50 PM.
                    Customers should always be served . . . to the nearest great white.

                    Comment


                    • Dear Cult of Free Bees,

                      You have created such a disruption to our businesses, we have sent Bennie "The Hive Breaker" Bear to come and convince you to leave us all alone. You just might experience a disruption to your business. Also, we have warned all of the law offices in town about your impending visit. They have also hired Lioness Pest Control to keep you away from their offices.

                      Sincerely,

                      Starling Fox
                      CEO of Sprawl Mart

                      -----

                      Dear State of Georgia,

                      When I was sent to your state for business, I stayed in a town with the worst name. My wife, for some reason, was doubting the reason for my trip. I'm sure you can imagine how bad the argument went when I told her, "No, I'm not cheating on you. I'm in the middle of Cumming, Georgia." Her name is Ann.

                      I know what you're up to. You're trying to break up marriages and corrupt our youth by naming a town by such a filthy name. 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


                      • Dear State of Georgia,

                        You have nothing to fear from Mr. Noid. We've found him and we've taken him back to the sanitarium. I found Dr. X. after Mr. Noid badly hurt him, but I saved him and he'll be back on the job in a week or two. As for Mr. Noid, his new doctor is the rugged and cruel Dr. Z, a body-builder and quite intimidating.

                        He has more cause to fear than you do. Just relax.

                        Signed,

                        Nurse Y.

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

                        Dear Nothing But Class Theater,

                        I went to see Money Python's Scamalot the other day. The show, co-produced by Suzette Morning and In The Money Financial Advisors, is about mixing classic British literature with ways that businesses and conmen are out to rip you off - and how to protect yourself.

                        The audience laughed, except for me, at the entire show, and yet all throughout it, I noticed that they were picking up important tips. Even songs such as I Won't Stray, where Money Wassaved, Duchess of Cashwall, goes shopping with Queen Gimmiemore, teaching her to make a shopping list and never stray from it, no matter what the enticing bargains are. It was supposed to be a love song, not a protect your pocketbook song! I feel cheated!

                        And then it gets really, really bad in the second act. There, Money Wassaved teaches her son, Moregreen, to resist the lure of the seductive beauty Sales with her song But Do You Need It?, a song where she points out that just because it's an enticing bargain at a good price doesn't mean you should fall for it and buy it if it's not something you need in the long run.

                        Every verse in that song was a death blow to my business. I am a hard-working businessman who does my level best to get people to buy junk they just don't need! That's exactly why my company and profession is all about, creating needs and demand for junk that's quite worthless! I can't have some song in a play giving away my manipulative secrets! My backers won't give me any more work! I'll be ruined if the audience takes her advice!

                        So I pulled out my gun and tried to shoot the performers. But I missed and hit the chandelier, and wound up having it crash down right in front of me! I demand ten million dollars, the removal of the song, a re-write of the play to make it corporate-friendly and shopper-hostile, and free tickets to see the revised new show.

                        If you refuse, I will use every drop of my powers and my business to destroy Money Python's reputation, as well as your own.

                        After all, I am in the public relations business. I spread word faster than anything but bad ideas and rumors, which are also among my powers.

                        Signed,

                        Mr. A. D. Vertisement.
                        Customers should always be served . . . to the nearest great white.

                        Comment


                        • Dear Mr. Vertisement,

                          Enclosed is a bill for the damages you did to the theatre. Until it is paid in full, you are banned.

                          Sincerely,

                          P. Erfomer
                          Manager



                          Dear Supermarket Manager,

                          You had no right to suspend me. All I did was smoke a cigarette at my register because the rude front end manager wouldn't give me my break on time just because it was busy. I demand you reverse the suspension, allow me to smoke at my register all I want, and order the front end manager to give me my breaks on time even if it's really busy. If you don't, I will smoke in your office and then set it on fire.

                          Sincerely,

                          Anita Smoke
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                          Comment


                          • Dear Ms. Smoke,

                            Thanks to your threat, your suspension has been changed to fired. We will mail you your last paycheck since you are also banned from the store.

                            Sincerely,

                            C. L. Eanair
                            Manager



                            Dear Federal Court Judge,

                            Where do you get off sentencing me to 20 years in prison? Don't you realize that's a long time to be away from my family? I demand a master key to the prison and my own personal car so I can visit my family all I want. If you don't, I will not serve my sentence.

                            Sincerely,

                            Fam Lee Man
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                            Comment


                            • Dear Mr. Mann,

                              I sentenced you to 20 years in prison for each count, not just by itself. What you tried to do with your children shocks the conscience of the court. But because of your threats, I shall have you moved to Batmax prison. If you try to escape, well, don't try . . .

                              Signed,

                              Judge C. H. Eckmate.

                              __________________________________________________ ___________________

                              Dear Dance 'Till It Drops,

                              I went to your dance-based exercise business like I normally do, to do my fancy dancing weekly exercises. But what do I see? Among your new patrons is a fat woman, who looks absolutely disgusting! Did you see her clothes? The woman must have weighed 300 pounds!

                              I overheard one of your dance instructors asking her why she was coming in, she said she used to love to dance and needed to regain her confidence. She also said she'd just had a divorce from a husband who made her so depressed she gained a hundred pounds. "So now that I've lost the man, I want to lose the weight, too." And your dance instructor didn't send her away for her hideous looks or her blobs of extra skin! Oh no, he encouraged her! He worked with her on basic dance moves to work her in to getting into deeper and more physical dancing later on. Later on! She'll be back?

                              Well, I won't! Not if you let tubbies like her into this place. I demand that you ban the blob and any other people who weigh anything close to her! If you don't, not only am I cancelling my membership (and let's remember that I spend over a thousand dollars a month here, making me one of your most important shoppers), I'll get my friends to do the same!

                              And what's worse, I'll bring my nephew, an aspiring cameraman. He'll be glad to sent her allegedly working out to American's Most Disgusting Videos!

                              So send her out of here, or I'll expose the kind of filth you let in here to the world! This place used to be so classy. Now it's gone to the dogs! She looks so sickening, she should be locked up in a prison or something! They all should! Only thin people like me should be allowed into exercise dance studios!

                              Signed,

                              Miss Hay T. Fatsos.
                              Customers should always be served . . . to the nearest great white.

                              Comment


                              • Dear Miss Fatsos,

                                Feel free to cancel your membership. In fact, we'll take care of it since, unlike you, we don't judge people based on their weight.

                                Sincerely,

                                D. Ancer
                                Manger



                                Dear Pet Store Manager,

                                I was buying some food for my cat who is a senior cat. However, your rude employee refused to apply the senior discount to my order just because I'm not a senior citizen even though my cat is a senior. I demand you honor the senior discount for senior pets. If you don't, I will take my business to a pet store that will do so.

                                Sincerely,

                                Mrs. Seniorcat
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