Dear Dr. Moschlavius G
Thank you for offering me a cut of your banner ad earnings as compensation for penning a little something for the Puffington Host. Unfortunately, I am not willing to sell my soul to the corporations for a few bucks. Well, that’s what I had written in the first draft of this e-mail (this is the sixth). Then I saw just how many bucks were on offer for my soul and realised that the time I’d wasted playing the morally superior card could’ve been spent with the money card, baby! With that in mind, I would be delighted to send you said little something!
Kind r$gards,
Ethan
P.S. Elliot smells.
P.S.S. Please do not publish this email as the article.
P.S.S.S. Please do not add a snarky italic quote at the end referencing my website or the banner ads.
P.S.S.S.S. Please do not add any “P.S.” to this post.
Ethan’s website lacks banner ads. For now….
I am most perturbed.
Ethan, it’s actually P.P.S, etc. You’re not writing a post script script, are you? No. It’s a post-post script and so forth!
Dr. Moschlavius whatever Gumperteer,
I’m afraid you’ve crossed the line by claiming poor Ethan’s young soul.
THIS ENDS TONIGHT AT MIDNIGHT….
I’ve got my troops massed on the border*. Just give me the word.
*I haven’t really.
Don’t worry Webbie, this ends tonight at midnight central US time (in four hours).
MAKTUB – it is written. The PuffHo reign of terror ends. Maktub.
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