Why you shouldn't mess with copywriters

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To the bloke who stole my mountain bike:

Well done mate. You should be really proud of yourself. No really. The opportunity was there, and you took it. Most common criminals would have done the same in your shoes. Well, I suppose I did make it easy for you didn’t I? Silly me, I didn’t lock it up. If it were a decent bike, I’d have locked it. But it’s a shit bike.

In fact, it’s a bit of a death trap. It had a tendency to lock up as I was going at speed down XXXXX Road. Take it from me, that’s not a good thing to happen just as the number 250 is overtaking you. And when you change gears using the left throttle, the chain comes off, and it usually takes about half an hour to put it back on again. Oh, and the front and rear disk brakes constantly rub against the wheels too, which is ok, until you’re cycling up a hill. Still, it was good exercise for my calf muscles while it lasted.

But you’re not bothered about all this are you? You’ve probably sold it already. What did you get? Thirty quid? Forty five? Fair play to you if you got more than that. I only paid sixty quid for it second hand last year, and I thought I was being robbed then.

Anyway, what did you spend all that money on I wonder? Did you treat your fat mess of a girlfriend to a posh meal at Nandos in the XXXXX centre? Did you get some new trainers, and a nice t-shirt from Primark? I bet you even steal stuff from there don’t you. I’m amazed, to be honest, that you can afford to rent an apartment in this place. I bet you are too. Here you are, surrounded by lovely, hard working, normal people, some of them with nice cars (you’ve not moved on to car theft yet have you, maybe you’ll try that when you’re a little bit older). I bet you can’t believe your luck.

Because at the end of the day, you’re just a little common thief with a shitty little job, and friends you can count on one hand. You are vermin aren’t you?

I bet your own family don’t like you do they? I guess they knew what a pathetic little arse wipe you were the day you first stole money out of your mum’s purse. She worked hard for that money aswell, round the back of the garages on XXXXXXX Road. Well, mate, that’s none of my business really, and I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. Anyway, I’ve got a surprise for you. I don’t know what you look like, yet.

But guess what? My mate (who works for XXXXXXXXXXX police) is sifting through cctv footage from around this area (from Friday14th – Sunday 16th August), and when he finds you, peddling happily away on my shit bike, I’m going to come and find you.

Not because I’m that arsed about my bike being nicked. Unlike you, I can easily afford another one. No, I’m going to find you, and make you cry like a little girl. Because this country is shit enough, what with Kerry Katona and the reccession, without little piss ants like you thieving on your own doorstep. And when I find you, I’m going to do me, and all the other decent, law abiding citizens in these flats and this country a favour by teaching you right from wrong. It won’t take long, trust me. So, take care won’t you, mate.

I’ll see you soon.


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