|From: Steve Norris <email@example.com>|
Subj: FBI - CEASE AND DESIST ORDER! IMMEDIATELY!!! TAKE DOWN CAKEFARTS OR BEAR THE CONSEQUENCES
Good heavens! A lawsuit! Luckily, an old friend was ready to lend a helping hand.
|From: the enigmatic cakelord|
Subj: youll never take me alive cakefarter
Anyway, after receiving this threatening email I immediately contacted my lawyer, Leonard J. Crabs, who in addition to possessing law degrees from no less than seven Ivy League schools also earned a doctorate in the confectionary arts with a masters in farting from the Columbia School of Fartistry. He is what some might say an expert on our present subject.
After tooting in a pensive manner, Leonard informed me that while we might lack the girl's permission to post that video, we had the cake's express written consent. To prove this, he produced what appeared to be a paper napkin from a local coffee shop, smeared down one side with frosting and goat's blood. Indeed, upon closer inspection the napkin proved to be a contract, written in lovely sugary sprinkles, not only granting permission to use the video but indeed ordering us to use it under penalty of diabetes or maybe just some really nasty kidney stones.
So while I'd like to take down the video unfortunately this is a binding contract that must be treated with the utmost seriousity. As you are a member of the federal government--and thus surely aware that impersonating a federal officer is forbidden by Title 18 Section 912 of the US Code and punishable by three years in prison OR a lifetime spent individually gift-wrapping dung beetles for the Shah of Iran--you are of course also familiar with the landmark decision in 2003 where the court ruled that when a contractual conflict arises between two parties "tie goes to the tastiest." (Mrs. Rosie's Lemon Tarts v. Ashcroft, 43 US 882, Justice Pillsbury at 236). Leonard looked this case up in a big book that had a leather cover and smelled like pipesmoke. It was very official.
As you can see, there's nothing I can do. I do apologize and wish you good rest of your day. Happy cakefarting!
I haven't heard from him since. Maybe he went back to his FBI stronghold to assemble a case against me. Maybe he's plotting revenge. Maybe he asked a fat chick to sit and fart on his face until he died. No matter what the reason, we're all the worse off for it. I may never know the full secrets of cakefarts. I may never achieve that exquisite inner peace. And I will never, ever forget the magic and mystery of Cakefartin' Steve.
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