Good evening, asswarts. Who, us? Yes, you. You saw the little stone gargoyle sitting on our doorstep and thought, “What a cute little thing! I think I’ll steal him!”
You could’ve taken the spare change he had in his lap, it couldn’t’ve been worth more than a phone call. You could’ve moved him somewhere where it would’ve taken us awhile to find him and left patting yourself on the back for your l33t pr4nk1ng sk1llz. But no, we came home from a food run at CostCo and he was gone.
You happy? The bloody thing wasn’t worth any money. It has sat on the doorstep for three years, watching over the apartment. It was a good way of telling friends which apartment was ours – “Just look for the gargoyle.” And it was nifty-looking. Apparently now it’s nifty looking in your apartment, or in your yard, or Gods forbid lying in pieces wherever you decided to smash it. Do you feel better? Do you feel cool? Are you glad you’re not only thieves but selfish, childish flying nutmonkeys?
I think the note I left on my front door pretty much sums it up. “To whoever stole our gargoyle: We do not have to find you to make you pay. Karma is watching you.”
Pretty soon now you’ll arrive home and find something that meant a lot to you missing. I won’t have stolen it; I’m not a thief. I will not have arranged for it to be stolen. I won’t have been involved at all. I will only sleep comfortably tonight, knowing that everything you do comes back to you. There is no lock that can bar Karma’s way.
Yours Truly,
Dragonblink, from the apartment on the corner.
Yeh, didn’t you know there’s a gargoyle and gnome convention happening next week on one of the islands in the Outer Hebrides?
You’ll probably get the postcards arriving soon!
Can I share your rant, Dragonblink? Here’s hoping that the same karma komodo that munches your misbegotten misanthropic miscreants gets the petty little sumbitch that stole my favorite coat.
I really liked that coat. It was a Walls, so it was good and warm, and it had the old company logo on it, from before we were bought out. Now, I can order a new one, but it’ll have the new company name, so it just wouldn’t be the same.
I don’t use laundromats, but I was visiting my brother, who doesn’t own a washer or drier. I just left for a few minutes, and some soulless pussball needed my coat more than I did. Geez, if you’re gonna trade in your integrity, at least make a better deal.
And before anybody mentions it, I know in my heart that it wasn’t a needy streetperson with no coat that stole it. I coulda lived with that. It was, guaranteed, some rat bastard so grossly bloated from sloth that my coat would never even fit him.
I hope Dragonblink’s gargoyle drops on him from a great height.