I don’t want to see you get hurt, but listen: the rules of the universe just changed. Poetic justice is now in effect.
You remember that time Tiffany littered, and it was on the lawn of an elderly couple who couldn’t afford to tidy her mess? Next week they’re emptying the bins of every house in a four mile radius on her front garden, and making her clear it up with a spatula.
They have this big, long list and they’re not afraid to vindicate every last thing.
I know it’s crazy, but we just got the memo from God. Apparently this is really amusing for Him, and He thought it wasn’t fun if He waited for us all to go to Hell first.
You remember my friend Kenny? How he treated that poor chick who was crazy for him? Apparently his high school sweetheart showed up on his doorstep, took him out for dinner, and started cataloguing in excruciating detail the ways in which he is inadequate. I mean, wow, I won’t repeat some of what he told me, and I doubt he told me everything.
And then there’s Rachel. Now there’s a story. It turns out she’d been dodging her taxes. Had an allergic reaction to some shrimp at a restaurant. Ambulance didn’t show up on time because of “budget cutbacks”. Now, some people are saying that wasn’t because of the poetic justice, but I think it might have been. They’re keeping it hush-hush.
I’m a bit worried about what might be in store for me, but I should be fine. Worst I ever did was lie about where I was one Friday night. What are they going to do? Can’t be that bad, right?
But you. Wow. I heard they’ve got a file a mile long. If I were you, I’d skip the universe until this whole thing blows over, and the next management fad comes in to play.