The Providers – Letter 1

Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiill,

Dude, dude, DUDE.

I’M SO DRUNK. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

HONESTY-TIME, HONESTY-TIME, man. I’m from the future. No no no no no, wait… seriously. YOU STUPID SHIT, LISTEN TO ME! This writing back to the past is serious business. Me and Greg – Greg from the future who don’t know yet – have been drinking a serious amount of Cuervo at his parents peacock farm. It is some f’d up s, man. They have this weird idea that peacock-dancing is the entertainment wave of the future – well, after SURGE BALL, of course.

Then me and Greg had this idea. CHECK IT OUT! We tell someone in the future to start the peacock-dancing trend, so by the time we come around it’s mega-popular and Greg’s parents (and us, of course) can reap the benefits – and by benefits I mean a dick-load of CASH MONEY.

So here’s what you basically need to do: If you’ve got 2 peacocks, bring ’em round the yard and teach ’em how to dance. If you’ve got just one peacock, get another one, then bring ’em round the yard and teach ’em how to dance. If you are 100% sans-peacock, acquire two peacocks, bring ’em round the yard and teach ’em how to dance. IT’S THAT SIMPLE.

In return, we’ll give you tiny hints about the future so you can maybe possibly benefit from them.

Dude, this is going to be SO SICK. I LOVE YOU DUDE, I FUCKING LOVE YOU, MAAAAAAAAAAAN!

Eat my balls,
Dom

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