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Letters From Jimmy Iwo


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Dear Sir/Madame/Other,

 

I crave your indulgence as I contact you in this surprising manner, I want you to bear in mind that this is not a hoax mail, and I earnestly advice that you read it carefully as I am optimistic it will open door for unimaginable fiscal reward for both of us.

 

My name is Professor J. Quidford Fake, a respected psychician working for the International Development Bank in Nowhere Particular.

 

On the 21st of April 2001, my client, his wife and their Only child got involved in a ghastly auto Crash Along Noiway Express Road, unfortunately all Occupants of the vehicle lost their lives. I then made fervent effort to locate any of my Clients extended relatives and this was Unsuccessful. still in this bid, I recently decidedof tracking his last name through the net in a hope of locating a member of his family hence I found you.

 

I am contacting you to help repatriate the Money left behind by my client. though I guess you are not a Relative of His after all, but I have decided of benefiting From this huge sum of $400,000,000 in the bank. I would like YOUR help to get this money out of the bank, making both of us multing milliners. Please provide your credit card details and I will credit your account with $40.I will keep $10,000,000 and the rest will be swallowed up in legalised fees.

 

Yours hopefully,

J. Quidford Fake (Ms.)

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Dearest Lady Madame,

 

With tender care and urgency I fly to your patronage. I am Bimbi Wimplestick, a respected crystal healer from the Islington area. Recently, four of my clients, including a well-known politician and his three children named Dotsy, Sadie and Horatia and his wife Gretta all grew brains and have since left my clinic. As such I am left devastated with a £25,000,000 debt due to a bulk purchase of quartzite. And so I come upon my knees begging to you that you come to my clinic.

 

Yours most humbly,

Bimbi Wimplestick

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Dear Sir/Madam/Monsieur,

 

I have the heroin you requested. Please come and collect it at the docks, the usual place. Do not tell the police. Release my daughter, which I am sure you will, as you promised. Do not cut her up and use the marijuana inside, that is solely for my use and I will buy you more from my sources if you deem it necessary. I will also send you my other daughter if you crave the taste of a corpse-grown plant.

 

Your Split-Personality,

X

 

P.S.: Your second daughter will complain of having an intense pain in her nether regions. Pay no heed, you are a gentleman and it will not do you well to look into that. She must merely be having her periods no doubt.

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