Dear Janice,

It has come to my attention that you have complained about my service as a paperboy. Truly, I do see where you are coming from. The broken windows, pots, and frequently crushing innocent bystanders with cars can get on anybody's nerves. I whole-heartedly apologize for all of the damage that I've caused you, both physically and emotionally, since moving to this neighborhood. However, these are merely attempts to blow off steam from a hard day. You see, my job is not easy and I do not get paid nearly as much as I deserve.

First of all, I have been delivering papers for about twenty-four years now. This job supports myself, my wife, and my son Paperboy II. As you can imagine, it doesn't pay very well. The only thing that keeps my family from the brink of starvation is my meager salary and the tips I receive from my customers. After twenty-four years on the job, the newspaper finally decided to recognize my efforts over the past quarter-century in a full page article. I believe that is the least they could have done for all the time I spent slaving away for the sake of my family. So imagine my surprise when I find out that the very next day there is one less delivery to make after one of the residents of complained about the article. Do you realize what that means for me? I get paid less now because of my perfect record than I ever have before. Does this seem fair to you?

Secondly, you would not believe the stress that I must endure on a day-to-day basis to bring you this paper. On any given day I will have to avoid being attacked by the Sewer Monster, be chased by a ghost, save gas station clerks from being killed, watch neighbors perform satanic rituals by roasting a live pig, and save babies who time and time again will have their postpartum affected mothers attempt to murder them by rolling them down a hill. All this while avoiding your son who inexplicably break dances on the sidewalk, having tires hurled at me, and avoiding cars that WILL NOT STOP until they have hit me. And now you attack me with your guard dogs. Well you know what Janice, forgive me for making your life miserable.

Lastly, though I do understand how you get upset about broken windows, I have one question. Seriously, what are those windows made out of? Throwing a newspaper at them should hardly be enough force to break them. Maybe you should complain to the window company for making the most fragile windows ever.

With sincere apologies,

Paperboy