I’m not even gonna lie, I thought the eagle thing was cool, as I am a moron. Now knowing the reason it happens, I must say: I am very disappointed in you, Mr. Bolton. I thought we were friends, yet you lied to me. I trusted you, and you betrayed that trust. Now have trouble trusting anyone. It has ruined my relationships with everyone I’ve known. I lash out at those who don’t deserve it. Even my therapist won’t see me anymore. “I’m not your therapist! I just run the deli!” he says. “You fucking nutjob, get off the counter!” he shouts. Dejected, alone, I roam the streets late at night, a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a serving spoon in the other. In my most desolate moments, my sight will leave me, and I will wake up next to a homeless man. His eyes are gone from his skull, staring longingly at me from the ground. For just a split second, I see those damned Tac Glasses covering them, and I think of you. You bastard. You have destroyed my life. As I leap to my doom hundreds of feet below, I leave this letter. A bitter message to the world about your true nature, Mr. Bolton. Hopefully no one else can be broken by your manipulative ways. One thing I know for certain: I will wait for you by the burning gates, and when you finally die, I will laugh at your misery as we meet in the fiery pits. Then we shall toil together, as equals, for eternity. Then you will know how it feels to be lost. See you in hell, Mr. Bolton.

-an unsatisfied customer