Dear Precious Anointed Fearless Leader:
I throw my worthless, ignorant, (although fatly substantial) body at your feet and beg your most exalted magnificence pardon for failing you in your honourable charge to my insignificant self. You may do with me as you choose is as your right in your fearsome position as my most revered, infinitely wise and know to be brutal when provoked, Emperor. Should, as you may choose to have me disposed of, may I most humbly beg that I be smothered to death beneath 50, naked, extra virgin oil coated, virgins.
Obviously I have no aptitude for running an auction. My list of errors is legend. My ability to alienate both current and prospective advertisers in your tightly controlled mouthpiece, The KSG, is inexcusable. For this alone I deserve to be flogged. No one enjoys a good flogging as much as I do. I do once more beg that the flogging be done with a cat of nine tails using real cat’s tails, administered by aforementioned virgins.
I do hope that your Stirling reputation is not further tarnished by my series of errors and insults to winging bidders who thought the entire exercise a farce. Little do they know how close to the truth they are? I have made amends as best I could, placing blame directly where it belongs, squarely on your shoulders. The common knowledge that you are in fact a mad man helps me in my quest to divert blame away from me. In fact it evokes a deep sympathy when they believe my every move is dictated by the big guy behind the bar.
Mr. Stirling has been offered a free pint because his feathers got ruffled by my saying his bid was rejected because he “was not one of us” assuming of course my Evil Leader stands the shout and nails him as an advertiser when he moves here in two weeks time.
X Ace Underground Investigative Reporter
(this apology was submitted in .docx format, a format banned by the KSG, hence the X)