This is a letter to inform you that you are now officially the most reviled inanimate object on the face of the earth. The fact that no one else has even met you makes no difference, as I hate you enough for six-point-something billion people combined.
I don't care if you're old. I don't care if you can print Mr. Shortcake's thesis paper with ease. I want you to print my gee-darned invitations with ease! I have gone through EIGHT DIFFERENT DESIGNS just to try to appease you and your un-reliably-inking ways. I am now preparing to hand calligraph seventy six invitations, reception cards, rsvp cards, and map inserts because YOU CAN'T GET YOUR EFFING CARTRIGES TOGETHER. I can't even get you to print thequickbrownfoxjumpedoverthegeedarnedmummyhuggingfence the same way twice!
If payday weren't so far away, and our invitation mailing deadline TOMORROW I would happily purchase another printer and throw you out of the office window. But then again, violence solves everything.
Hold onto your ribbons, printer. It's going to be a long drop.
Sincerely,
your arch nemesis,
Shortie
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