Somehow you came to my party, drank my booze, pissed in my toilet (or on my lawn, who knows), talked to your buddies in my living room, and spent some time in my hallway, where you stole from the wall a painting that my friend had made. I know the Polaroid of the painting left in its place was the punch line to your self-serving humor, but we're not laughing here. You know what the painting looks like--a cat, a dog, some weird green foliage growing behind them--and it cost us a good chunk of cash to buy, let alone the sentimental value of having something in our house by an artist/friend we admire. You're a real dick for taking it, but you can reverse the damage by coming back and leaving it for us on our steps. If you were too blacked out to remember where our house is, ask whichever dumbass invited you here in the first place for the address. But you'll get yours if it remains in your possession, we're certain of that.

--Anonymous