Dear jackass real-estate guy in Ballard,

I met you in a local dive bar near my house one afternoon. Thinking you were hot shit, you told me you were a rich guy who buys struggling poor guys' homes and then flips them into new condos. What you didn't realize is that you were hitting on the partner of one of those "poor" guys. Had you just dropped off yet another pamphlet or harassing offer for my house before moseying on over to the local bar for a cold brew? You are the epitome of what old Seattleites hate. You are the Devil. Put your tail between your weaselly little legs and go, Devil man. My home will never sell.