The Customer Complaint Letter Game

[cindybubbles]

Dear Ms. Fun D. Mentalist:

We pray all the time. We pray that people like you will go away and not make a bad name for real Christians.

Sincerely,

Angel Craft
Owner
Archangel Crafts

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Dear Ms. Fun D. Mentalist:

Mary Christmas-Freak here. It seems I've found a kindred spirit of sorts.

I've tracked down the impostor who said that Christmas should end on January 5th. Rubbish! Christmas should last all year round, don't you think? And I never shop at General Grocery Store; the prices there are too high, anyway.

So I was wondering if you would like to join me in hunting down this heathen who uses my name to give a bad name to those who love all that is holy and Christmas-y. After that, then maybe we can chat over a cup of eggnog about our shared love of Christmas.

Of course, you wouldn't mind if my husband joins us? He's a little awkward due to the culture clash; he hasn't eaten a human in weeks, after all, and he getting sick and tired of eating what he calls "vegetables", though I swear, Christmas ham and Christmas turkey are NOT vegetables! So I hope you don't mind if he joins us. Don't worry, he won't eat you; I'll make sure of that!

Thanks in advance!

Your new bestie,

Mrs. Mary Christmas-Freak

[Kristev]

Dear Mary Christmas-Freak,

I remember the D. Mentalists well, first when the husband got mad at Misty Ghuru and now the wife angry with Archangel Crafts. I have rather taught them a lesson and now I am going to teach one to you.

You've got it all wrong. Christmas is actually the Winter Solstice, the rebirth of light, on December 21. The Catholic Church decided to steal this holiday as they did so many others and absorb it into their lineup of religious holidays as a means of converting people from the pre-Christian traditions of the old pagan religions.

Christmas should last all year? You have no idea of the seasons and their cycles, do you? Lasting all year would destroy the meaning, whether pagan or Christian, of the holiday.

Your hunting of other people stops now. I am going to give you a gift and a holiday I think you will find far more suitable. I have transformed your island into Halloween Island, where the spirits of the people you have killed will permanently haunt you and your husband and prevent you from doing harm to anyone else ever again. In time, you'll learn to have a great time in Halloween Island and with the spirits. Either in this life or in the next one. All your Christmas things and every Christmas-related thing you touch will transform into Halloween things and the veil between the living and dead will always be open for you and your husband. Think of it like being at Bed and Bath From the Beyond, only permanent. Make peace with it.

Happy new holiday, and remember, it's not wise to fool me.

Signed, Mother Nature.

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Dear Games Are We,

I wish to complain to your corporate office about this tremendous bill I was forced to pay. I want it revoked and a full refund, and I want it now!
You see, I took my sons to your store to rake in the big after-Christmas sales and pick up some good bargains. And my sons loved your wide selection of board games and card games. But before I let them spend spend my good money on your wares, I told my boys to go ahead and open the games and play with them to see which ones they wanted. Of all the games that you had to offer, they wanted two. So how dare your manager demand that I pay for all twenty-seven?

Of course, I had to pay it. The police said so. But I am angry and that is the purpose of this letter. I expect a full and total refund, though, of course, I will be keeping the twenty-seven games they made me and my sons leave with.

If you refuse to give me a refund, I will personally bring my little son's ant farm to your store and drop it. They're fire ants. Then I will write to the papers and complain about what you did. How can my sons know what games they want if they don't open them and peek and pry and play? You're being unfair, so you know what, I now demand a million dollars, and if I don't get it, not only will I drop the ant farm and write to the papers, but I will personally ruin every board game and card game you sell. That'll teach you!

Angrily yours,

Mrs. Pryer.

[cindybubbles]

Dear Mrs. Fryer, I mean, Pryer:

We know where you live, since the manager of that store gave me your address. He's all the more happy to send bad customers my way, if only to save his own butt.

Based on his description of you, you'd make a lovely roast, by the way. I plan to dress you up and use your remains to fatten up your bratty kids.

Deliciously yours,

Mrs. Mary Christmas-Freak

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Dear People of the World:

This is Mrs. Mary Christmas-Freak.

Mother Nature thinks that she can scare me with Halloween? HAH! My mother was a Halloween Freak who forbade me from doing anything Christmas-y growing up, so nothing scares me, not even the ghosts of anyone I killed! She's now holed up in a retirement home where people pay HER to leave them alone! What a deal, by the way!

And as for the Christmas stuff turning into Halloween? That never happened. I guess it's probably because that letter she wrote me came from the most polluted city in the world. Even then, she still has no power over me.

I don't mind spending Christmas in the summer. My family and I enjoyed Christmas clam-bakes in Australia, for example. We didn't catch any clams, but I made do with the rude surfer dudes who, for some reason, insisted that we were in California, not Australia. But anyway, it's the spirit of Christmas that should last all year-round, not the freezing -30 degree Celsius weather. That's what fake snow is for, by the way!

Anyway, my family and I will once again be laying low until next Christmas. We have enough gingerbread and icing to make a house in the forest, an open fire pit instead of a stove, and some fake IDs and disguises so that little Murray can grow up in peace. As for the food, well, you better hope you don't get lost and stumble upon our house!

Tootles!

Mrs. Mary Christmas-Freak

[catcul]

Dear people of the World,

We are pleased that we have finally apprehended Mary Christmas-Freak and her family. They were apprehended on a ranch in west Texas. Her son was caught trying to buy a chainsaw with a mask on his face. They will face trial in federal court in Texas.

Sincerely,

Stacia A. Hylton, Director, U.S. Marshals

-----

Dear Ping,

Your clubs are faulty. Every time I use your driver, it keeps curving to the left. My balls keep finding wood or getting wet. All I want is to put it in the hole. I don't need my friends calling me a hooker. Also, your sand wedges are also defective. Thanks to them, I can't get my balls out of the sand.

I demand that you give me clubs that work.

Sincerely,

Sandcat Forest

[Kristev]

Dear Sandcat Forest

Our clubs are fine, top-notch in fact. We have tested them and found that the only thing wrong with them is the player. Get your mind out of the gutter please. We are sending you clubs that we think you will be better able to use, along with diamonds, spades, and hearts.

Sincerely,

Ping.

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Dear Superb Market,

I went to your store with my friends to go and buy more alcohol because we ran out in the middle of our celebration. Your cashier, Rachel, asked me if I was planning a party and I said yes. I also told her that we'd just robbed Worst National Bank of ten million dollars and were going to party it up until noon the next day.

So about an hour later, the police came to our door and arrested us all, telling us that a woman had called to report that we had committed the big bank heist.

My defense lawyer told me that Rachel was the sister of the cop who led the arrest, and that she has quite a penchant for talking to him at least once a day. So I want that woman fired, and I want a public apology, and I want ten million dollars to make up for the money the police confiscated from us and returned to Worst National Bank!

And on top of all that, you can pay our lawyer bills and our bail! It's all Rachel's fault that we got caught and locked up in prison for our deeds! How dare she go gossiping to that big, burly brother of hers? I demand justice! And if we don't get it, when we get out of here, we'll come up to Superb Market, kidnap Rachel, and take the ten million dollars, plus our other fees, on our own. You'll never know it was us.

Signed,

Mr. Stu Pidcrook.

[purplecat41877]

Dear Mr. Pidcrook,

Thanks to your blabbing, Rachel did the right thing by contacting her brother. Therefore, we won't pay anything and Rachel has been given a raise.

Sincerely,

C. U. Incourt
Manager



DEAR SUPERMARKET MANAGER,

WHERE DO YOU GET OFF NOT HIRING ME WHEN I TOLD YOU TO? DO YOU REALIZE THAT BY NOT HIRING ME YOU HAVE DISGRACED THE MARINES? IF YOU WANT TO GET BACK INTO THE MARINE'S GOOD GRACES, YOU WILL HIRE ME AND THAT'S AN ORDER! IF YOU DON'T, I WILL POST ON FACEBOOK AND THE MILITARY WEBSITE THAT YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO RESPECT FOR THE MARINES!

SINCERELY,

COLONEL M. A. RINE

[mjr]

Dear Colonel Rine:

Unfortunately for you, Brigadier General Lethbridge-Stewart has been informed of your "Orders". He agrees with us that you should not be hired. His Nephew, Sgt. Pepper, has told us that you have been abusive to other civilians, and that you have been reprimanded several times for that.

The Brigadier has told us that we made the right call here. Since we respect the Marines and the Brigadier, we shall do as he requested.

O. Ver Yourhead
Supermarket Manager

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

Dear Talk Radio Station:

How dare you decide to change formats! Why are you changing from talk to Classical? Don't you know that Classical music was written by a bunch of foreigners?

You just hate America!

If you don't go back to Talk Radio, I will come down there and make you listen to Meghan Trainor and Hansen over and over again, until you give me what I want!

Mr. Ir Rational.

[Kristev]

Dear Mr. Rational,

I have no objection to talk and believed in free speech. But it had reached a point where they were calling for open treason all day long. Just because a woman is president for the first time is no reason to demand an armed revolt, especially since she's from the party that the radio hosts usually support. I couldn't allow it to go any further.

So I bought the station at once and replaced it with beautiful music. Because I can. And in case you forgot, this nation was created by a bunch of foreigners, refugees, if I recall it right. But there's no need to waste any more of my time with you, because you are too irrational for my tastes.

Still, I have hired the best bodyguards to protect me should you even try to come near me and make me listen to anything, including you. But I'm sure you're actually in need of help, so I am including a thousand dollars for you to use to see a doctor and get on some medications. I hope it helps.

Peacefully yours,

Gloria S. Music, made rich by my novels and determined to do good things with my money, help the underprivileged people, and replace ugliness with beauty and refinement whenever I can.

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

Dear DC Marvel,

For the first time ever, your corporate office decided to host a guided tour of your facilities so that people, if they paid enough money, could see your comic book creation in action.

Well, I brought my son to the guided tour specifically in hopes of your people being willing to take a look at his self-created comics, which are expertly drawn. Especially his best and most frequent, Southern Man, who fights to put an end to the reborn Northern Menace led by President Blackman.

And what response did we get? First, being repeatedly told that the tour was to show off the facilities and let people get an inside look at how the comics are made, not to push unsolicited work on the staff. How dare you use that kind of word on my son? I don't know what unsolicited means, but it sounds like solicit, which is a sexual word, and I will not have my little ten year old exposed to that kind of language!

And then, when I finally do pester Stan Lee Kane, who appears on the tour at the very end, into looking at my son's Southern Man comics, he is shocked at the level of violence and asks me what kind of movies I allowed my son to watch! He says that nobody at DC Marvel has ever made a comic book so bloody, graphic, or violent in their lives, and that the days when women existed only to be used as victims are over in comics. He asks to speak to my son privately. My son comes up to him proudly, and the next thing I know, my son is taken deep into the studio without me.

They won't let me see my son, who I still have not seen yet. They tell me that something is very wrong with me, based on the things my son said to them, and the other people on the tour agree. So I get furious. I storm the studio and destroyed all of the work on the current comic of the Ex-Men, you know, about the men who died in a tragic multiple-chemical leak, but were reincarnated with special powers by a witch only to have the spell go wrong and bring them all back as women. You don't need a comic book led by women, anyway. Comics should be like my son's Southern Man!

Suddenly, I'm lassoed by somebody dressed as Wonderful Woman and tossed out of the place by security guards dressed as Superfan and Wolfsomean. The police were waiting for me and those three people brought me right to them, and I've been in jail ever since.

I demand that you drop the charges, give me back my son, publish Southern Man and make me and my son millionaires. If you don't, I will steal the best plots from the villains in your comic books and take them out on you, starting with Mr. Stan Lee Kane. Let's see you buckle and break under my vengeance!

Mr. Knott A Fulldeck.

[cindybubbles]

Dear Mr. Knott A Fulldeck:

Thanks for providing us the inspiration for a new comic book villain for the Ex-Men. He will be known to the heroes and the criminal underworld as Whitey, but his legal name will be Klyde Kristopher Kreuger. Unfortunately, as you committed vandalism, you won't get any royalties from us.

Also, your son confided in me that you were the actual creator of Southern Man and he only acted the way he did because he was afraid of you. He told us that you beat him every time in the summer because he tans easily, telling him that he's not your son because your son would be bleached white and he wasn't.

Finally, did you know that "solicit" does not mean "explicit"? We don't want people pushing their stuff on us all the time because every comic has to be reviewed by our board. That's why we only accept amateur comics at conventions.

You will be hearing from our lawyers regarding the damages that you caused to our studio.

Sincerely,

Mr. Stan Lee Kane
CEO
DC Marvel Entertainment Inc.

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Dear Pizza Delivery, Power Company, Water Company, etc:

Why don't you accept bitcoins? All my money is in bitcoins, since that's where the market is now.

I demand that you accept my bitcoins as payment, or I will use some of my bitcoins to purchase weapons on the Deep Web and storm all of your facilities and blast you to bits!

Sincerely,

Emma Bit Short-on-Cash

[Kristev]

Dear Ms. Short-on-Cash

We've conferred with each other and we all agree that bitcoins are not where the market is now. We won't honor your payments in bitcoins, but we will be disconnecting your services until you make good on the months of non-payment. See, none of us knew just how much you were stiffing us all. Now that you've all but confessed to it, we're working against you collectively.

Since you've made a ridiculous but terroristic threat, your pay will come out of the money you earn in prison.

Sincerely,

Mr. Spee Dee, Owner of In a Flash Pizza,
Miss E. Lectra, Manager of Absolutely Shocking Power Company,
And Mr. N. E. Tune, Manager of the By Poseidon's Grace Water Company.

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Dear Get You Gone Gas Station,

I lowered myself to come to your gas station today to buy fuel for my perfect car, due largely to the amount of lawsuits I have filed in order to have my car perfectly safe and customized entirely for myself. I'm a legend in town, as just about every business knows, since I've had more than one day in court with just about all of them.
But your gas station just opened up here at the crossroads at Acheron Pit, and as I happened to be driving by on my way back from court, I remembered having been given a business card by a hag who showed up at the court handing them out.

Then when I pull into the gas station, I see not merely that hag, but her two sisters. They turn out to be the three employees of the gas station, and they greet me as the winner, first of a great lawsuit, then of a greater still lawsuit and finally as King of the Courtroom, which I loved to hear.

And the next thing I know, the sisters led me to the cash register, and to a great bit sign that read Win A Lotto Money with the Wheel of Fortune Card.

Naturally, I wanted to win that, so I paid for as many tickets as I had cash to buy, which was a great deal since I'd just had a successful cash settlement from a store that . . . well, that's another story. Never mind. Anyway, and as I gave away my cash, every last dollar, to buy ticket after ticket, they took my money and filled up my car, and then the three hags seemed to disappear. Quite unseemly for store employees.

Anyway, when I get home, I find that yes, I have won a great verdict in court again, but that the winning ticket at the Win A Lotto Money with the Wheel of Fortune Card game was my friend, Ben Quo, not me. Naturally, I was furious.

No, I'm not going to go out and kill him, but I've already filed multiple lawsuits against him and his family, and now I fully expect a total refund out of your gas station for daring to hire those women who made me spend all my money on lotto tickets when my best friend won!

I am absolutely furious, and I command you to give me back all my money, because if you don't, I will flood you with a tidal wave of lawsuits until not only do I have all your money in my pocket, but I also own your gas station, your house, and even your children if I wanted them, which I don't.

So do you give me back my money, and come to think of it, a considerably generous settlement, possibly even half-ownership of the gas station, or do you roll the dice in court, where successfully suing the last store I haven't sued yet would be my crowning achievement and would surely set me in security for life.

Signed,

Mr. Tsu Nami.

[XCashier]

Dear Have A Knife Day Weapons Shop,

We've got a problematic customer here. It seems that he's blaming our three employees for his own stupidity, and now he's bringing a lawsuit against us that could destroy the business we've worked so hard to get. This guy needs to...disappear, if you get my meaning.

We'll take care of the worst nastiness ourselves, if you'll supply some weapons -- a couple of daggers should do the trick -- and dispose of the body afterwards. Then we can all wash our hands of this unpleasantness.

Sincerely,
Mac and Beth King, owners,
Get You Gone Gas Station

* * * * *

Dear Have A Knife Day Weapons Shop,

I saw a truck with your logo drive by my pig farm a few days ago. Since then, my pigs have been dying left and right. When I went out to check on them, I saw human bones sticking out of their feeding trough!

What the hell you been doing? It had to be you guys, we live way out in the boonies and nobody drives by, ever. I sure as hell ain't poisoning my prize piggies!

You've made me lose a lot of livestock, and my livelihood. No butcher's going to want to buy poisoned pigs to butcher! My wife says I should go to the police, but...let's say I'm a reasonable man, willing to let bygones be bygones, for the right amount. I think $50,000,000 is a fair settlement for my loss of business. Otherwise, I will go to the county mounties!

Yours truly,
Ben Dover, owner
Dover's Premier Pork farm

[cindybubbles]

Dear Mr. Dover:

Apparently, you can't tell the difference between human flesh and pig flesh. Your wife called to tell us that your pigs are fine. They're resting and playing comfortably at the California Retirement Ranch for Old and Tired Animals.

You see, she's a vegan who believes in setting animals free rather than butchering them. You know, for a small fee of $50,000,000, we can get rid of your wife and bring your pigs back. Sound good to you?

Sincerely,

Ma Fia, Owner
Have a Knife Day Weapons Shop

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Hey, Easter, honey!

It's your girlfriend, Bea Mai Valentine, here!

What happened to you? When you were seeing me, behind your ex-wife Mary Christmas-Freak's back, you expressed how much you used to freak out about Easter the way she freaked out about Christmas. When we were kids, we used to kill and eat people in the name of Easter.

This was all you, not me. I laid low because I loved you, and still do, and I didn't want to remind you of your ex-wife's obsession, replacing Christmas with Valentine's Day, of course.

Now that your ex-wife is in prison, and you're no longer in fear of your life (for now), it's time for you to get that passion back into your life, and decide who should be your loving new wife.

You see, I've seen you kissing Miss Labour Day at the office where you work, and I've once saw you in bed with Miss Fourth of July through my secret security camera system. Let's just say that the "fireworks" that I saw made me see red, and not in a good way.

You need to decide who you want to marry right now. I saw you buy an engagement ring at the jewelry store the other day. If you choose me, I will personally see to it that all rabbit hunters and taxidermists will be shot, thrown into the wood chipper and used as mulch to grow food for the descendants of all the rabbits that they killed. I will give up Valentine's Day forever to dedicate my life to pleasing you with lots of sex and Cadbury Creme Eggs, which I'll make sure the factory makes all year round or else!

However, if you don't choose me, I will stun you, strip you naked, wash you and hand you over to Wonka's factory to have you turned into Easter-flavoured chocolate coated Freak! It might taste horrible to others, but you will always taste sweet to me!

Love,

Miss Bea Mai Valentine

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Hey, Easter Freak!

This is your boss, Miss Labour Day!

You better have a good explanation on why you keep shirking your duties here at Holiday Inc.!

I don't care if your ex-wife or many girlfriends threatened your life! Your life belongs to me! Labour Day is all about the workers, after all, not about the slackers!

You know how much I love you and consider you to be like family. One of your co-workers spotted you buying an engagement ring, and, like good little employee, went to tell his loving boss, that's me, about it. I never saw you love anyone else in the office except me, so it must be for me!

Because if it is for me, I will personally see to it at Holiday Inc. that Easter be the major holiday to celebrate, not Christmas, which was previously run by your ex-wife before I fired her. Major retailers will get customers to buy presents on Easter and if they don't, I will personally sic the company lawyers on them, and if they still don't, I'll send in my troops to shoot up the place and wrecking balls to tear the buildings down. And I'll find a perfectly legal way to do it too!

If it's not for me, however, I will not fire you. I will hire the experts at Have A Knife Day Weapons Shop "take care" of you dispose of your remains discreetly.

Sincerely,

Miss Labour Day
President
Holiday Inc.

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Hello, Easter, dear!

Your loving girlfriend, Miss Fourth of July, here!

I'm so glad that you divorced your ex-wife, Mary Christmas-Freak. She was so un-American! I mean, who forgoes fireworks to celebrate Christmas in July, right? Christmas belongs in December, after all!

Remember back in high school when we used to argue about which holiday was better? How I shot fireworks at random people on the street? You won, though, when you seeded all of downtown with your mutant carnivorous rabbits! We laughed at how much mayhem our argument has caused! Though you swore revenge on the exterminators that killed your precious rabbits.

Then you married that woman and all that passion for Easter was suddenly gone. What happened? You used to be so vibrant.

Well, now that she's gone, maybe I can help you get that passion back into your life. I saw you buy an engagement ring, but I also know that your other girlfriends and their employees saw it, too.

If you choose me, I will personally, and charitably, might I add, give up my passion for America, temporarily, to help you back on your feet. I will hang, shoot and gas people in the name of Easter. I will sic bunnies everywhere and pelt coloured egg-shaped grenades to show to you that I care about you.

However, if you don't choose me, I will unload all of my guns into you, and if you're still alive, I will fabricate evidence of you being a terrorist (not that it's too hard to fabricate, after all), and submit it all to the U.S. Government, who will probably waterboard you and torture you. Maybe they'll put you in the same cell as your ex-wife, you terrorist! 'MURICA!!!!!

Love,

Miss Fourth of July

[purplecat41877]

Dear Miss Valentine, Miss Day & Miss July,

I've never harmed anyone or anything and I still have a passion for Easter. Also, the engagement ring is for my current girlfriend, Miss Thanksgiving, who has a great passion for Thanksgiving just like I do for Easter.

Sincerely,

Easter Freak



Dear Restaurant Manager,

You had no right to fire me! All I did was plop the food on the plates since it was going to be eaten anyway. Who cares what the food looks like on the plate? The customers who complained should've been grateful that they were getting food in the first place. I demand you give me my job back and allow me to cook as sloppily as I want. If you don't, I will prepare a large jug of beet juice and dump it on your head.

Sincerely,

S. L. Oppycook

[XCashier]

Dear S. L.,

This restaurant is not a hash house. We here at Chez Magnifique pride ourselves on our presentation, making sure our food looks as good as it tastes. What you cooked looks like it came from a can of cheap dog food!

So, no monsieur, you will not be getting your job back here, not unless you go to culinary school and learn the finer points of our fine French cuisine.

Respectfully yours,
Jacques Strappe, owner,
Chez Magnifique French Cuisine

* * * * *

Dear Chez Magnifique,

You guys owe us money! We've sent several cases of our product to your slophouse, as ordered by your cook S. L. Oppycook, and we've yet to receive any payment for it! You'd better pay up or we're taking you to court!

Sincerely,
Carrie On-Meat, owner
Nofrills Canned Dog Food

[cindybubbles]

Dear Ms. Carrie On-Meat

There's no need to yell. You will get your money as soon as we settle our lawsuit against Mr. Oppycook. If we can't get a fair settlement, we know some guys from the Deep Web who could use a few organs.

Don't worry; you'll get your money one way or another.

Sincerely,

Jaques Strappe, owner
Chez Magnifique French Cuisine

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Top 'o the mornin' to you, Easter, me lad!

Your best bud, Saint Patrick here (not the actual saint, though)!

I just wanted to warn me best bud about your ex-wife, Mary Christmas-Freak. After you sent out your letter, Miss Valentine, Miss Labour Day and Miss Fourth of July all confided in me that she paid them over the past year to court you as part of her revenge. She also hired your psychologist to plant false memories into you so that you wouldn't suspect a thing. But it seems that you got better, I hope.

None of them are actually violent, nor would they ever follow up on their threats, rest assured.

But she did try to pay me to put a date rape drug in your beer, haul your butt over to the prison where she sits, and pay the bartender to look the other way. Don't worry, buddy, I won't do it to you. I know what she looks like and I couldn't, for the love of all things lucky, figure out what you saw in that monster when you married her.

Just looking out for my best bud,

Saint Patrick

P.S. You might want to run now, me lad. Don't bother calling the police in this area; According to the news, Mrs. Christmas-Freak already runs the entire prison system and regularly bribes cops and other officials with meat carved from her dead inmates.