What Is Your Return Policy On Lottery Tickets?

Hello again, sir.

Um, I have a quick question. I know I was just in here about two minutes ago, but I've had a change of heart regarding my purchase. You see, at the time I thought I wanted this scratch-off lottery ticket, but now I realize that it was a foolish waste of money. So, to get to my question...what is your return policy on lottery tickets?

No need to get hostile, friend! The ticket is still perfectly good, and only slightly scratched. Ya know, just the other day I had purchased a CD-player from Wal-Mart, which ended up freezing up on me. It had some very slight wear-and-tear, much less than this ticket, and they refunded me the full price on the spot. Wal-Mart is one of the largest chains in the world...maybe you could learn a few things from their business practices.

When I walked out of here, I thought to myself, "Pac-Man Mania? Is that something that I really want to be a part of?" I'm not a "mania" kind of guy. And I don't even play Pac-Man! This ticket simply was not the one for me. I should have chosen a ticket that more fit my personality, but alas I did not. I'm hoping we can rectify this error and come to a mutual understanding. I have no further use for this product. Besides, doesn't this look like a forgery to you? The Pac-Man I'm familiar with has no arms nor legs, let alone colorful gloves and boots. He certainly doesn't know the emotion of joy which he is expressing here, as he is a cold-hearted, machine-like monster bent on the soul goal of eating ghosts and balls. I think I've been had!

I'd like my 2 dollars back, please. Actually, you can refund me anywhere up to $30,000. Just so you have the option.

If They Changed the Show's Title To "Hot Betty," I Might Consider Watching

Ugly Betty? Really? That's what you've chosen to name your show, ABC? Now, I'm not sure exactly who told you what audiences across the nation like to see, but it sure as hell ain't that!

I'm your most important audience member, ABC. I'm the 18-to-49-year-old college student who buys fast food and sees crappy movies every weekend. And do you know what I want? No, not ugly people. I want hot people. And cool cars. If you name a show Ugly Betty, do you know who you're going to get to watch? Not me. Maybe a few other ugly people who want to feel accepted, but you ain't getting me to watch. It might be a great show, but I'll never know, 'cause I'll never watch. You might as well title the show Clowns Rape Mr. Rogers' Corpse While Gilbert Gottfried Scratches His Nails Across A Chalkboard. Actually, a show by that title might actually pique some interest out of pure curiosity. But ugly people? I see those every day. If I wanted to see an ugly person, I'd look in the mirror. And there I wouldn't have to sit through commercials.

You want me to watch your show? Call it Hot Betty Who Drives A Sweet Maserati and Wears Skimpy Outfits and Hangs Around In Her Underwear a Lot and Who Is Intelligent, But Not In a Threatening Way, and She's Kinda Funny, Too, and She's an Awesome Cook. Then I might consider watching your friggin' show. You might also wanna change According to Jim to According to Boobies.

These are just my suggestions, but let me also suggest that you heed them with impunity, ABC. You need me just as much as I need you.

No. It's Quite Literally A Pyramid Scheme.

I'm not sure if you gentlefolk quite understand where I'm coming from here. Why would I announce that I'm trying to rope you into a "pyramid scheme?" If I was trying to get you to go along with me on a traditional "pyramid scheme," wouldn't I try to mask the fact by calling it an "exciting financial venture" or "guaranteed moneymaker?" I think I would. I don't think I'd gather you esteemed members of society to try to trick you all into something so foolish as that. No, no. It's quite literally a pyramid scheme.

Allow me to introduce myself for those of you who arrived tardy. I am Baron von Achsteung III, noted baron and collector extraordinaire. I don't like the term "thief," even though my profession involves quite a bit of thievery.

Who here is familiar with the Great Pyramids of ancient Egypt? These babies are guaranteed moneymakers waiting to explode like volcanoes with riches and gold and promising stock options! What I propose is to sneak into Egypt and stealthily take the Pyramids of Khufu, Khafre, and Menkaure for ourselves! These rotting behemoths of stone are virtually unguarded and ripe for the taking. Their value on the black market is vast, even to the most pessimistic investor. But what we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is quite an exciting financial venture! Are you daring enough to take part in the most lucrative and exotic act of grand larceny known to man?!

You must be asking yourself several questions right now, such as "Where can I sign up?" and "How many mortgages must I take on my many mansions to help fund this righteous endeavor?" and "Aren't those pyramids rather large? Oh hell, I don't care! This idea is brilliant!" Ha ha ha! I admire your enthusiasm, but that last example was only truly half-question! I will, however, put your minds at ease.

You must also be wondering how you could possibly help in such an enterprise, as few of you are experienced in the graceful art of pyramid-theft. Well, that is simple. I have gathered you here today so that you could donate your hard-inherited fortunes to me, and I, Baron von Achsteung III, personally guarantee each and every one of you a 10,000% return on your investments! It will also be your duties to find other prospective investors in this scheme. I will need great sums of money for this to work properly, as I will need to employ several large helicopters and a battalion of armored elephants unlike the world has ever seen. Then these new investors can recruit new members as well, and the money will never stop flowing! You see? That is my pyramid scheme. There are no "steak knives" or mysterious stocks involved here. We have a hard, tangible product. The Great Pyramids of ancient Egypt.

The sign-up sheet is in the back, next to the coffee and complimentary bagels. I'm afraid we're out of cream cheese...hey! You could ask the Steak Knife convention next door if they'd like to join us, in exchange for a hearty investment of some cream cheese, that is.

Exploding-Man Should Be Known As Dangerous-One-Whom-All-Should-Curse-The-Name-Of-Repeatedly-Man

Dear Exploding-Man,

We, all of Mankind, have read your open letter, describing your "heroic" struggle to protect and defend that which you have so mercilessly and explodingly destroyed. How dare you claim to do nearly as much good for Mankind as, say, Financial-Advice-Man or Mankind-Protector-Man! The population of the planet Earth has sunken from upwards of 6 billion to a diminuitive fifty-seven since your inception. 95% of the land on Earth is uninhabitable due to radiation. If these walls could talk, they would demand the instantaneous destruction of he who is known to the world as Exploding-Man.

Unfortunately, all walls have been obliterated by Exploding-Man.

We, Mankind, will never accept you, Exploding-Man (if that is your real name!). You have brought more catastrophe and death to this planet than the Holocaust, World Wars 1 & 2, the Black Plague, and the upcoming expansion of our dying Sun combined. You are not a hero. You, dear sir, are a zero.

Take this notice as a plea to leave us alone and/or torture yourself gratuitously and then finish the act by beheading yourself in a most gruesome manner. This is all we ask of you.

Sincerely,

Mankind

How My Incredible Gift Became My Equally Incredible Curse

Dear Mankind,

From the moment I gained my incredible and strange power, I vowed to use it for the betterment of all mankind (you) and to make the world a safer and more palatable place. At no point have I ever wished - nay, even considered! - using my fantastic and unearthly power for selfish or hurtful purposes. I knew that it was God or some higher force that had granted me my wonderful and superfluous power, and hence was my destiny to do His (or Her, I'm progressive) will to bring peace and joy and merriment throughout the land, and possibly to sing traditional folksongs afterwards. Never did I imagine my magical and sometimes beige gift would become...a curse.

Perhaps I should clarify for those few of you who are unaware. I am Exploding-Man. By day I walk amongst you as a normal, schlubbish civilian; but by night...I become the masked vigilante who fights for Goodness, Graciousness, and Puppies (nice puppies, not Dobermans or Pitbulls). Perhaps you own one of my t-shirts. Perhaps your children watch my serialized cartoon program every Saturday morning at 10/9 Central. I protect the world from evil and death and destruction in all of its forms.

For those of you who are not familiar with my backstory, I will offer you this: I was a brilliant scientist-type individual with a lab coat and glasses who mixed multi-colored chemicals and such, until one day when I created some sort of time travel device which sent me to Hiroshima the day of the dropping of the atomic bomb. The radioactive blast imbued me with the power to create largescale nuclear explosions at will, but only those with blasts of 30 megatons or more. I began to discover my powers, and soon took to patrolling the city from thugs and rapists and thieves and other criminal-types who were frightened only by the force of a nuclear explosion. My first experience began in my hometown of Seattle, when I saw a mugger trying to mug an elderly woman. I ran to her aid and used my great and wonderful power to stop him in the act. As I crawled out of the burning wreckage of what was once the city of Seattle (and its nearby suburbs), I knew that only I had the capability to stop the lowest forms of scum from across the world. The crime rate in Seattle took a sharp turn downward; as did the criminal population in the city. Ha! My first victory.

I moved on to Los Angeles, where I saw two men trying to burgle a house whilst its occupants slept blissfully. I used my incredible power and the two men were unable to burgle anyone that night. Criminal activity fell in Los Angeles to ZERO overnight. From there, I travelled across the country, using my whimsical and horrific gift to wipe out crime whereever it existed, and leaving an uninhabitable, radiation-soaked, ever-burning trail of justice behind me.

Not that everyone fully appreciated my heroism. One newspaper in England declared me "The Greatest Scourge Ever Known On Earth." That was before I travelled to London to show them what I was capable of, and there is nary a criminal alive in all of Great Britain. In fact, I also effectively eliminated the existance of rats in the country as an added bonus. I have yet to receive any criticism from them since. What they failed to grasp was that, in addition to killing all criminals in a 40-mile radius, I was also killing all potential victims of crime. This benefitted society twofold: the potential victims never had to worry about becoming the victim of a horrible or unsavory crime, and the temptation was taken away from the doers of said crimes! Removing temptation is an important part of rehabilitation. How could criminals ever leave their crime-doing ways if the temptation persisted? I did a great service.

But now when I am seen on the streets, people run and scream in fear. Others run, but don't scream really. And yet some others scream and merely fall to their knees as they weep for salvation. I have become a freak! People cannot accept me into their cultures because my Great Power sets me apart from them. Are they bigots? No, not at all. They just don't understand. I pity them, yet at the same time I yearn to be accepted. How many cities must I level to rubble before you accept me, Mankind?! 100?! 200?! 300?!

What was given to me that fateful day was a gift, yet it has become a curse. I am not selfish, however, and will continue using my gift to protect all humanity from those that would sully it.

Godspeed,
Exploding-Man