Dear Skunk,

Last night was one of worst experiences I’ve had this year thanks to you, and so I shall express my feelings about this to you in this letter.

Now, before I go on, let me say that I think I understand your position in this matter. You were probably minding your own business while passing under my bathroom window. And, you probably had no intention of bringing yourself to the attention of my neighbors dogs. And, I understand that your best line of defense is to utilize the mechanism bestowed upon you by evolution although it’s gotta be one of the worst out there.

So this once, I will be of an understanding nature.

But please now let me explain to you my position in this matter. Unfortunately, I had decided to leave open the one window in my home above where you would make your stand. Once you had laid waste to your enemies, the repercussions proceeded to fill my home with your noxious fumes. Not only myself, but also my wife was forced awake by your assault upon our neighbors canine olfactory senses. We remained awake until dawn on the verge of vomiting as we attempted everything we could possibly think of to remove your chemical warfare agent from our home.

And tonight, as I write this, your rotten fucking shit smell still lingers.

I hope that this will not happen again, and that you heed your own experience and decide to avoid my home and the surrounding area in the future.

But if you do not, I fear the consequences will far outweigh your wildest imaginations.

I will not be hasty and put a cap in your bitch ass. No, I want to make sure that this will not only never happen again, but that it will serve as a reminder to all of your species that there is somewhere they will never wish to place foot upon.

I will first catch you Skunk, and deliver you to our nearest veterinarian (yes, unconscious for their sake, not yours) to have your scent glands removed and your paws de-clawed.

But wait, this is just the beginning.

Next, I will request they replace your noxious fucking glands with the prettiest smelling essential oils that money can buy. This will be the kind of stuff you can only find advertised on the Lifetime channel. Either that, or whatever Paris Hilton’s latest fragrance is. Whichever would be more humiliating to you.

Then, I will use only the finest fluorescent orange spay paint to clearly tag your bitch ass with your new name in a serif font; Flower. And that, my friend, is some humiliating shit.

After all is said and done, I will release you back into the wild. It will probably not take long for your brethren to find you and begin your unending, agonizing ridicule. You will be defenseless, shunned, and will remain an outcast. Your life will be an unending torment, all the while smelling like either a cheap whore or a burned out hippy chick.

So please, take this into consideration, Skunk, before gracing us with your presence, for it will surely not be in your best interest.

Best Regards,

The Jimmy