Harith, you scallywag! I KNEW that your name was familiar to me!!! Yay!!!!!! Thanks SO MUCH for contacting me again and again! I SO appreciate it!
I'm so relieved to hear that you're still alive, and that the people who took 'Mildred Carruthers' down haven't managed to get to you yet!
Dude... we've GOT to get this deal going! I need to get my money out of you before they get you!
What I love most about you is your sense of PERSISTENCE. The last time you contacted me... let me think... it was last year sometime... let's see... wasn't it just before Christmas? Yes! 23 December 2007!
I remember you well! You're the orphan!!!
Harith... please fill me in on some details... do you MISS your parents? Did they ever do 'nasty' things to you? Did they ever do REALLLLLY freakish things to you? Or is it only in my country where parents hang their screaming babies in orange sacks above the maid's toilet, feeding them cheese straws until they shut up? Please tell me I'm not the only one!?
Look. I've got to be frank with you. In your first communication with me, you wanted me to book you a hotel room. Dude. Dude dude dude! What side of the bed do you think I was born on? Book your OWN goddamn hotel room, you heathen scum orphan snot-boy! (Sorry. I'm deeply sorry. Sometimes I say things I regret. I hope this doesn't mean we can't be friends?)
In this latest message, you want me to tell you where my nearest airport is. Come on, dude. We're men of the world. YOU tell ME where YOUR nearest airport is. And I'll have my 'people' go over and 'meet' you. If you're not fricking careful.
Also, in your first message, you implied that I would get a mere 20% for my hard work in helping you launder your filthy money. I told you that I wouldn't be willing to budge for less than 35%. Well, you scumscudding cranksucking guttersniping wastrel (in a good way, of course -- I would never insult you): my price has JUST GONE UP! I want 37.5% for my troubles. And I'm warning you, if you keep giving me the runaround, the price goes up AGAIN!
DON'T PUSH ME, HARITH! I'm warning you! Act now while I'm just wrenching 37.5% from your clammy, slimy hands!
Seriously... think about your poor dead parents. They must have loved you so much to leave you US$11 million. Although, I must admit, if I were them, I'd have thought you should have been given more like, say, US$22 million. If you know your maths, Harith, you'll understand that US$22 million is exactly DOUBLE US$11 million. So actually, they probably didn't love you all that much after all. In fact, I'm sure you'll agree with me that they were losers. And they deserved to die.
You know what my parents did when they died? (I mean, apart from shit all over their sick beds, and gurgle a bit, and stop breathing.) They left me NOTHING. They left my brother nothing. They left EVERYTHING they owned to the Boy Scouts of ARMENIA! What the hell???!!! ARMENIA??? They didn't even know where Armenia IS? Fricking hell! Do YOU even know where Armenia is? And have you ever had the misfortune of trying to tie up a Boy Scout? They fight like hell. And they understand knots like noone on earth.
I don't care about all that. It's in the past. All I care about is the future. Which looks bright, now that you and I are in contact again.
WHERE'S MY GODDAMN MONEY, HARITH? Do you want me to come over and show you how an Armenian Boy Scout works a camping tin opener?
Give. Me. My. Money.
There. I've said it.
Respond -- properly. And you KNOW what I mean by properly.