Dear stranger

Dear guy that texted me two weeks ago,

I understand you were looking for Mike and wondering if he was at Kyle's. I kindly told you that you had the wrong number. You were contacting me from your icloud account.

Humbly realizing that you had texted me, and had the wrong number you gently said unto me 'who the fuxk is this??!'. To which I replied, 'Frank. Not Mike. Not Kyle. Sorry'

And then my new friend was quiet.

2 days later I woke up to a missive from my buddy. 'Fxck you!!! Loser!!'. I responded 'Thanks a lot, have an A1 day!.' Perhaps the wrong response, but I am a lover not a fighter.

A WEEK goes by and he texts me 'You stupid moron, fxck you!' To which I point out 'Well, you texted me and had the wrong number. I disagree.'

A few days go by and I get another love letter from my friend 'You suck, whatev, hpe you die!'

So I sent the juiciest picture of a penis Google Images had to offer.

'wtf gay'

So I sent another couple.

'stop!'

And I started mining the depths of penis picture depravity on the interwebs, hoping my new friend will be having as much fun as I will.

I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you're looking for Mike, I can tell you I don't have any Mike...or Kyle... but what I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career in IT. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you. If you leave my texts alone now, that will be the end of it - I will not look for you, I will not pursue you... but if you don't, I will look for you, I will find you... and I will subject you to the most awful things from the depths of the internet.

Any time, middle of the work day. Late at night. Talking to your Mom. Whispering sweet nothing to Mike and to Kyle. You will never ever know when you will get a picture and of what. I have many email addresses, many evil friends, and many ways to send you whatever my heart desires day or night, for the rest of your natural life.

So how about you stop good buddy, and let's all have an ice cream.

Capische?

Love,

- Frank