DEAR WHOEVER WAS UNFORTUNEATE ENOUGH TO LAND THIS LETTER WRITTEN ON PAPER INTO THEIR HANDS. I HATE YOU WITH A PASSION THAT BURNS BRIGHTER THAN A THOUSAND WHAT HOT SUNS, AND I HOPE YOU DIE A PAINFUL, GRUELLING DEATH. EVERY ROSE HAS ITS THORN, AND AS IT APPEARS, IVE PICKED THE THORNIEST ONE FOR YOU. PRETTY MUCH EVERYONE; ME