Dear criminal class of miscreants...

... who broke into my Jeep and stole my purse this morning,

You targeted me for victimization, but, alas, you have failed. I’m just not in the mood. I’m feeling waspy today. Never target me when I’m feeling waspy.

Taking my purse is inconvenient. But now you’ve given me a reason to buy a new one. Without guilt.

Amateur.

You didn’t think this through. You took my favorite Burt’s Bees lip gloss, but the joke is on you. I was ready to switch to a new shade.

You just can’t win for losing.

As for breaking my window, you chose the wrong curly-headed chick. My hair always looks windblown anyway. Another epic fail!

You broke into my vehicle while I was at the gym. While you were being recorded on security tapes racking up charges at Lowes, Walmart, Target, and Walgreens, I was building muscle. Now you’re a wanted criminal and I have the core strength to kick your arse.

Who made the better decision today, hmm?

And then, the worst mistake of all, you took my purse but left behind a signed copy of my first book, Not Another Superhero. Have you any idea how valuable that will eventually be? You’re only playing the short game here.

Plus, I’ve been praying for you since the moment I saw your handy work. Do you know what that means? Coals. Heaps of them on your pitiful head. If you get singed by falling brimstone, you only have yourself to blame.

Lastly, I’d like to leave you with a bit of advice.

First, your smash and grab technique needs work. Eventually, you’re going to develop tennis elbow.

Second, never mess with a writer. We’ll spend years hunting you down simply for the fodder.

Sincerely,
Your Coming Tribulation