Eh, this is bad. D: But I have write some fiction for a club I'm in so... here goes nothing.
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Dear Mike,
There's so much left unsaid between us after all these years. I heard you were leaving for San Hose, and all of those feelings I'd held back for so long, too long, came rushing to me. All of a sudden I was standing in the middle of a subway, realizing that if I never told you how I really felt, I would never feel truly complete. You know how shy I am, but today I need to speak out. This is the day you'll know the depth of everything I've ever felt towards you...
I want to weave you into a carpet and leave you in a public bathroom!
Hopefully, those blonde sluts you bring into the office will stumble in and vomit their vodka and party drugs all over you. Why was I never good enough for the positions you offered them? Because I didn't have herpes and a drug addiction? Sooorry Mike! Guess you need a boob job to file a tax report!
And why do you have to be such a heretic?! Just because you like Obama doesn't mean you have to put his bumper stick on my car. You're a terrorist, Mike, a terrorist. The US Army should pull out of Iraq and gun your ass down, because if they don't, I will.
So long sucker! You better be moved out of the office by Sunday, or I'm telling the head director about the bong you keep in the upstairs restroom.
Sincerely,
Amanda
P.S Your new girlfriend looks like a busty Bill Clinton.
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