When something bad happens to you, you must know that it is karma paying you back for leaving me to follow your stupid boyfriend and his stupid dreams. And trust me, bad things WILL happen. Lots of them. I’m not above planting drugs on you before you get onto an airplane or a cruise ship, throwing a dead man’s hand in your suitcase then leaving the police an anonymous tip, or kidnapping your alcoholic slut of a mother and holding her ransom until you move back to St. Louis.
I’m leveling with you, LawnCare. You should *really* reconsider this move. You honestly have no idea the patented brand of terror that I’m prepared to inflict to get you to stay here. I’ve been in jail more than once – I’m not afraid. And should I die in my quest, don’t for one second think that I will not reach my cold dead hand up straight from Hell and pull you down with me, because I will. Satan owes me that one.
I know that I’ve threatened to kill the child that you want to adopt. But honestly, you’ve known me longer. And although you’d be hard up to admit it, you like me better than Pharmastrist. We both know it.
Therefore, I’m encouraging that you break up with him asap. You’ve got three weeks until you move, and while I hate to see EITHER of you go, I’m willing to settle for losing one as long as the other stays behind. Which one stays? Doesn’t matter. I just want one of you.
Here are your options: Stay here with me, or leave and be absolutely miserable.
R.I.P. LawnCare – dead to me July 2, 2008