Open Letter to the A-Hole Who Stole My Pen Last Night

Dear A-Hole Who Stole My Pen Last Night, Congratulations on acquiring your new, used, white, black-ink, Bic "round stic" pen. I hope you are as excited by stealing it as I am about hunting you down and kicking the tar out of you. Regardless of the fact that it is just like any other, plain, Bic pen; besides the fact it costs a tenth of a cent; even though you asked "to borrow" it, you still walked away holding my pen with me sitting there, watching you. You couldn't have stolen from someone who takes pens MORE seriously than I do. I am very protective of my pens, mostly because EVERYONE steals them from me. (I don't want this to sound TOO selfish, and I want to acknowledge that everyone steals pens from everyone and that I clearly wasn't singled out for pen theft.) It boils down to me always having a plain white, black-ink, Bic "round stic" with me at ALL times, so that I always am able to write things down. You have removed this joy from my life, because you have taken my pen without my permission. To be honest with you, jackass, if I lose a pen (on my own accord) it RUINS my day, and now that you have walked away from me, holding my pen, you have become the target of my scorn for YEARS to come. You have become the face of my mortal enemy. You have ignited my jihad and become my Osama Bin Laden. After the events that occured last night, I will hunt you for years, following you through underground bunkers and hide-outs; across Iranian borders and through volatile minefields; into enemy territory, the West Bank, or the Korean de-militarized zone. Yet I know that I will never find you, that I have decided to fight a tragic, losing battle, against you, with your emo-sweep haircut, tight-fitting band t-shirt and wallet with a chain. You are the face to my faceless enemy. I will never again make the same mistake of letting my guard down and loaning my pen to you. I will remember. Regards, Jeffrey Alan Crocker