Kneecaps
This letter is mainly to you robbie but the rest of you should perk up your ears, just in case it applies to you.
I don’t take kindly to being threatened, but if you’re going to spew threats, follow through. The only thing I hate worse than threats is fucking cowards. I waited for you. I didn’t go out, I was around all night on the off-chance that your sorry ass would make the mistake of actually showing up. I mean, I knew you wouldn’t because you’re much too big of a pussy. But not only that, you’re a goddamned lying failure.
Did you really think I’d believe you were from the government? Seriously? hahahah Come on, you didn’t think your cunning plan all the way through, huh? First off, if you worked for the government, you wouldn’t get on cam and take a staple-gun to your flabby-ass chest, neither would you do any of the other depraved activities at my command that you followed through with. No, you don’t work for the government, you’re just a sick fuck who can’t help but beat off to wearing women’s panties and getting slapped around.
If you worked for the government, you would have gotten my IP address and checked it, and you would have known that I live in San Fran-motherfucking-cisco, rather than Pleasant Hill. In fact, you didn’t even name Pleasant Hill. you got around it by saying you were “In Concord, right around the corner”. As if that doesn’t scream “I’m taking the safe route by naming some random ass city that I think is close to you.”
If you ever do decide to quit being such a pussy and show up at my old apartment, let me know. I’d be more than happy to go hang out, drink some whiskey, and wait for you. Hell, I wont even shoot you! I’m so considerate that I’d hand you your goddamned ass before handing you over to the real cops.
Call me. Lets get this show on the road.
P.S. I’m still going to have someone break your kneecaps. Invest in a pair of crutches.