Attention Intern, Part 4

This was the final letter I ever wrote to one of our interns here at work. I never met the kid. I was told he kept messing with this girl Karissa's chair, so I wrote up the following just to mess with him. He apparently threw a massive hissy fit and my supervisor told me I could no longer write notes to the interns. That kid works here now. And every day, I debate leaving a severed head on his desk.

It pains me to know that you don't know me. If you did, perhaps your outlook on various matters would shift, hopefully towards the more positive end of the spectrum. It is quite a shame really. I imagine you are a fine upstanding gentleman. Why, you must be in order to have attained such a prestigious internship. It is quite amazing what one can learn about another through his or her words, in jest or otherwise.

It has recently been brought to my attention that you made some crack about John McCain's inability to raise his arms above his head. While you may have simply been poking fun at one of his mannerisms, I feel that you failed to recognize the sheer lack of empathy in your remarks. Please research how such a disability came his way. Go on. Google it. I'll wait.

Did you see? Five years in a Vietnamese POW camp. Tortured daily. And now, one of our nation’s most recognized war heroes cannot even lift his arm to salute his fellow brethren. And you make jokes. Is it any wonder how "Nicolas" can sound so much like "heartless?"

I will admit that I am, at times, a rather callous individual myself. I find the Cyclops an absolutely uproarious figure in Greek mythology. And due to this fact, I regrettably giggle whenever I see someone with an eye patch. Deplorable, yes. But it is my cross to bear.

Despite my own deficiencies, I take offense to your comments about presidential hopeful John McCain because I, like him, have my own disability to endure, day in and day out. I am not sure what my fellow coworkers have told you about me. I'm sure that they have made mention of my verbose prose or my sexy way with words, but one thing I'm sure they've kept to themselves, probably because of my own inhibitions regarding the issue, is my prosthetic leg. That's right. I am currently sporting a Ossur Re-Flex VSP prosthetic. And I am proud of it. So I will not stand for your lack of compassion. Literally. Now, I will make a list of the many benefits of having a fake leg:

1) It is a great conversation starter
2) It can be used as a beer drinking device, much like "Das Boot" in Beerfest
3) I don't have to worry about losing my leg... again.
4) I tell children that I am half-cyborg
5) If no bottles are available, a good game of "Spin The Foot" is a great way to kiss that girl you've had your eye on for some time
6) I can tell people that I used to be a pro surfer... before the shark attack.
7) When intoxicated, I can remove it an use it for air guitar
8) If a DC mugging can occur, it makes for a great clubbing device - for either side of the attack

Alright man, I'm sorry. I'm totally kidding. I've got two legs and they're spectacular. My vertical leap is somewhere in the range of 43 inches. I am 5'8" and I can dunk a basketball on a regulation hoop. Alright fine, I'm lying again. Really, there's nothing especially cool about any disabilities. And me making even further light of the issue by lying about a physical handicap is probably just a surefire way to secure my penthouse suite in hell. C'est la vie, no? Besides, I've heard the smell from the inside of a fake leg could take out a bull elephant.

Seriously though, John McCain is a badass. The whole purpose of this email was to hopefully teach you a brief lesson about what can happen... if you keep lowering Karissa’s chair. CHECKMATE!

Sincerely,
T.Q. Fischer
...yes, all the rumors are true...