Dear Prankster(s): Well played. This morning when I ventured out to get my newspaper, I was greeted by quite the sight in my front yard. Was it two 150-piece variety packs of plastic cutlery? That’s what it appeared to me. Knives, forks, spoons — all stuck handles down in the grass. Which, by the way, I would like to apologize for the length of same. I’ve been remiss in my mowing duties. The length of the grass robbed your prank of some of its visual impact. You deserved better.
And here I will address the most likely culprits.
JC, if it was you, I’m disappointed. After all the late-night sorties we’ve launched over the years, I would have expected more effort. What? No flour? No birdseed? No feral pig staked to the center of the yard?
AM, if it was you, then I guess we are even. I should be thankful, I suppose, that you didn’t enlist the help of JC, who would have taken the prank to the next level.
EC, if it was you, I’m actually a bit taken aback, as I fed you dinner last night. Is that how you show your thanks? If so, again, well played.
EL, if it was you, please understand that my greatest joy in life is to crush my enemies, to see them driven before me, and to hear the lamentation of their women. You will pay dearly.
MH, if it was you, for your sake, I hope you’re armed.
WA, if it was you, your mischievous sense of humor is why I regularly tell people that I have the best boss in town.
