My Darling Father
3:17 p.m.

To the quasi-father whom it may concern:

You will be pleased to know that your goal of making your daughter fear you and hate being in the same house as you has been a success. She lives in fear of you attacking her with words, fists, or silence. She finds you to be an insufferable bastard who doesn't know what love is, and she wishes that you would get hit by a car while mowing the lawn, as you are so kindly doing right now.

As to the incident of July the First, in the year Two Thousand and Four, you obviously weren't the victim, you prick, so don't act like you were. She attempted to make herself some lunch and wanted you to cook your own goddamn pizza, because if she took it out too soon or too late you'd whine about it. Now she is locked in her bedroom, having not eaten anything for about twenty hours, and will not come down until she knows that you have left the house. Since both of you are on summer vacation and all you ever seem to do is lie around on your fat ass anyway, this probably will not happen.

Thank you for your time, sir. Your hearing in the court of I Hate You will commence for the rest of your life, and have a nice time burning in Hell.

Sincerely,

your fucking DAUGHTER, in case you forgot.

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