I let you read a draft of my novel. You know, the one I have been nurturing for five or six years. You were the first one to see it besides me, and I thought that you would feel flattered. After all, we've known each other about that same span of time. Well, apparently I don't mean shit to you. You not only didn't read it, but have now refused to give my book back to me. For the last six months, I have been politely requesting that you return this draft, and last week you finally agreed to return it. I got the day off work to meet you, but then you canceled at the last minute, and then made fun of me when I pointed out that I lost a good deal of money to try to meet. Well, it's war, bitch, and you're not gonna win.