Might I also add that Chris Lewis, Directing Director of Directions, actually called my father on the phone? Indeed this Internet is serious business! The Ultimate Warrior is now making house calls, spreading his ultra-conservative reign of terror to people who have absolutely no idea who he is or what he's talking about! Maybe next he can call my fifth-grade math teacher and let her know how "rosy-red" my cheeks are. I'd be ruined!
Dear Chris Lewis, Director of Internet Detective Skills,
I have noticed your awesome legal strategy has shifted from "threatening to sue for fictional claims" to "insulting my physique and commenting upon my rosy-red cheeks." This is a very clever move on your part, as many legal issues have been resolved this way. Did you know that's how the FBI captured Al Capone? It's true; they sent him a letter talking about his "rosy-red cheeks" and then berated his arm size! Capone had no choice but to storm into FBI offices, at which point he was captured and thrown into jail. I don't remember what for, I think he molested kids with the Pope or something.
Regardless, I am now aware of what a legal detective dynamo I am up against. You are not only able to call my relatives (using the phone, which I assume, you dialed by yourself), but you additionally copy and paste information that I write about on my public website! I shall forever remember this day as the day I messed with the wrong person (Chris Lewis), or "TDIMWTWP(CL)" for short. I like acronyms. And ponies. If you'd like more top secret public information about me, feel free to use this:
* I have brown hair
In summary, I am excitedly dreading the sheer amount of swatting you and your Warrior of the Ultimate variety plan on inflicting to me. I know I am nothing but a fly with skinny arms and "rosy-red cheeks" to you, a worthless parasite to be thrown into the turnbuckles and body slammed with extreme prejudice, but I, dear sir, am just a silly fly who writes checks that his body can't possibly cash. I am a check-writing fly.
With "rosy-red cheeks."
I hope this information does not lead too many of you to track down the eye color of my dogs and what meal my sister ate for breakfast or some other crucial factoid wad that could completely destroy me. WORDS ON THE INTERNET ARE THE ONLY THINGS I HAVE LEFT IN MY VACUOUS, LONELY LIFE!
Shortly after sending that email, I realized I needed clarification on his previous lawsuit threat, so I followed up with this:
Dear Director of Communications Ultimate Creations, Inc.,
I just realized you never informed me which time zone you're in, so I have absolutely no idea if your "9 AM Monday April 11, 2005" deadline is based on central standard time or pacific or mountain or what. Could you please let me know what time zone you're in so I can adjust my schedule accordingly? I'd hate to be at the doctor's office or something when the deadline comes up. I plan to be seated firmly in my legal lawyerin' chair (LLC) so as to save my ass when you attempt to blow it off with your awesome lawsuit.
Also, from now on, I shall refer to you as "Peaches."
Sounds reasonable to me.
What I'm saying to you right now is man-to-man. There is no tone in this - there are no threats in this. This is one man speaking to another:
What kind of coward lets his father take the heat that he generates for himself in the way that you're doing now? You permit your DAD to take phone calls from total strangers because you lack the backbone to stand up and accept responsibility for your actions and words. What is that about? What's more - what's with your dad claiming he doesn't know any other Richard Kyankas? Your old man must be proud to deny all knowledge of you...
I have no more patience for this. We can either come to an agreement or not. Your father told me that you have attorneys who deal with this sort of thing for you. My advice to you is to either grow up and tell me how I can make direct contact with you, or send me the name and telephone number of these attorneys.
This is pretty much The Ultimate Warrior's version of an Ultimate Defeat. "Well, uh, we just suddenly realized we're all really busy here at Ultimate Warrior Headquarters, we got like a lot of stuff to do and a lot of folks to sue and we got irons in the fire and flies to swat with rosy-red cheeks so you're clearly not worth our time, despite what we said before. Repeatedly. In a threatening fashion. For serious." Poor Chris Lewis harbors some sort of rage at me because the only phone number he can find is that of my fathers, and every time he calls my father, who I haven't lived with in about 10 years, he fails to reach me. My dad actually called me last night to say "some crazy guy phoned the house here. He called me a 'candy ass' and then hung up." I replied to him, "oh yeah, that's this guy representing the Ultimate Warrior. He pretty much has an airtight legal case against us, which is why he's spending his Sunday night calling you, my father." My dad doesn't understand the Internet as well as I do.
So where will it all go from here? Will I receive more insane threats from Chris Lewis, representing former WWF superstar The Ultimate Warrior? Will he eventually remember to take his medication and drop the whole bogus lawsuit threat deal? Or will Mr. Warrior track me down and throw me into a folding table while patriotic music blares in the background and a homosexual somewhere contracts the AIDS virus? Stay tuned!
And no Chris, I'm not giving you my phone number; I make a concerted effort to not speak with anybody crazier than myself. Sorry.
Maria Mitchell is shown holding a telescope to each eye, using them to ogle passing hunks on the street below. OOOGA! Her tongue rolls out like a firehose, her eyes comically bulging through the ends of the telescopes.
The Internet experience of 2014 has been condensed into a single article for your convenience.
Many people love to threaten to sue us. Luckily we have both Leonard "J." Crabs and common sense on our side, thus enabling us to easily defeat such trivialities. Remember - when you're on the Internet, you can threaten to sue for anything!