Dear Ex-Landlord,

I recently finished re-cleaning an already clean apartment, just so you could have the satisfaction of knowing that you could make me do something insane because you still have my security deposit.  Now, I am a pretty reasonable person, and if you refund my deposit in full with interest, I will eventually stop caring that you are an evil control freak.  However, if you choose to withhold one red cent of my money, I will go into revenge mode, which I warn you will not be pretty.  

You see, there are few things in this world that can sustain anger in me.  I tend to be more of the spiteful type, eeking out small retributions for mild irritations in my own little ways.  But you, ex-landlord, have triggered something more base in me, something almost primeval in nature, and fecund with rage.  In this case, mere spite will not suffice.  

Under the normal influence of spite, I would fashion a charm out of something dear to you, a toilet plunger perhaps, or a 2-yr lease, and channel the powers of the Dark Lord to plague your home with walls that will never be completely white, countertops that will never shine like new, wood floors that are permanently dusty, and a bathtub and toilet that will never be free of hard water stains.  Additionally I would ask He Who Shall Not Be Named to teleport all of your dishes and countertops to another dimension, forcing you to eat off the never fully-clean floor, only to then try and wash your hands in a sink whose water will always be slightly brown.  Yes, these things I would ask The One True Evil to do, if in fact I was only feeling spiteful toward you.  

Unfortunately for you, you have ignited a deeper rage, one that transcends good and evil; the flames of which no god dare approach.  Nay, instead of such petty little tortures, I will invoke your true name and emblazon your likeness here, on the world wide parchment, for all to see.  

Let this image be a warning to all of you would-be renters out there!  This is what John Wright looks like in his true form.  Cower in the shadow of his clown-like hair!  Fear his white tennis shoes!  And shudder at the many pastel-colored polos he is known to wear as light armour.  

You see John Wright, with your true nature exposed, your power will wane in this world.  May the gods have mercy upon your soullessness.  

Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate!

Cindy