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I lost a bet to a friend in my fantasy sports league. This is the letter I sent him in the mail.

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Dear Matt,

Here is $50 for your absurd win over The Hot Carls. Congratulations.

…(Smiling, you gladly reach for the money, but I hold on as you try to snatch it away). But here’s what I want you to do with it. (Your smile is wiped from your face, noticeably and nervously you take a big gulp of saliva).

Take out Maureen to a real fancy dinner – whatever qualifies as “fancy” with your cheap Italian candy ass. My guess is bringing her to McDonalds would pass as “showing her a good time” to you. Now, while you’re at McDonalds and as you’re surely sounding like a broken record, stuck in loop, going on about how “awesome” you are, you’re going to get a bad feeling in the back of your mind and your gut is going to feel a bit unsettled. But you push it aside and carry on.

As you continue to speak loudly with your mouth full of burger and fries, spitting bits and pieces over the table, you’re going to get that bad feeling again and stop mid-bite of your value meal. You’re going to look Maureen in her blue eyes and she’s going to stare right back into your beady, little black eyes. Her gaze forces your eyes down and you start playing with your hands, anxiously.

Embarrassed, ashamed and broken, you’re going to say, “Maureen, babe, I’m so sorry.” And she, confused, is going to say, “For what?” Letting out an extended exhale, trying to delay the inevitable, you finally stop fidgeting with your weasel-like hands and bring up your beady, little black eyes to meet hers.

“Well, golly gee, this is tough. Playoffs are coming up in the fantasy league and when I meet Jordan…uh, well, um, ooh…I’m going to be cheating on ya,” you say, red-faced. “Jordan is going to be fucking me all week like a little bitch, just like a rhino fucking a piglet!”

(Maureen, thunderstruck and speechless at what her boyfriend, her jabroni boyfriend is saying).

“I know this is hard for you, Maureen. But it’s only going to be a week of me getting fucked raw with his meat sword and then we can go to the abortion clinic and vacuum Jordan’s bastard out of my fallopian tubes.”

(Maureen stops eating).

“Well, gee whiz, I’m glad that’s off my chest. Now how about we get back to this fancy meal bestowed upon us and we can plan sneaking into a movie later, or walking out on a bill for some drinks, or or or siphon some gas. Gee, don’t I spoil you, babe?”

Sincerely,

Jordan “The Hottest of All Carls”

Enclosed in envelope check list:
• $50
• Foreshadowing letter
• Sketch of rhino fucking a piglet for visual interpretation

*WARNING GRAPHIC DRAWING*

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YOU’VE BEEN WARNED

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STILL HERE, EH?
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YOU’RE MY KIND OF GUYS
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ALRIGHT, HERE IT IS, Y’ALL! 🙂

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