Anyway, I pick up where I left off with Miss Linda Mayo. Since my hiatus, she has kindly replied to my last crazy email. Here's the response:
Dearest SirYou understand my concern? You make it sound like I was doubting you. I never did such a thing! In fact, I believe it's a great idea to give out my phone number and bank details to complete strangers, especially when some dead guy is telling me to do so! Despite winning the affections of Linda's dead family, there were still pressing matters ahead.
I thank you for the quick response. I undrstand your concern on this matter, but let me assure you that this transaction is 100% safe. My brother and I have to stress that we will do all we can to make smooth this process.
There is one alternative that may benefit you more. Instead of submitting your name to release the consignment, we could tranfer this direct into bank account or holding account. I hope you agree that this may be a safer investment.
Please send me your telephone so that we may exchange conversation on this. Please be sure to let me have your bank details so that we understand where to send the consignment.
My brother and I are desperate for your return. Believe me that I feel strongly I can trust, even though we may have never met, almost as though someone is telling me you are trustworthy. I believe my father would have trusted you.
Miss Linda Mayo.
Dear Miss MayonaiseMy aim was to make myself sound kind of perverted, since she suggested I was so trustworthy about ten times in her last email. Let's hope she responds! I'll catch you folks tomorrow.
Your father sounds very understanding if he trusts me so soon after knowing me. I hope he doesn't mind the fact that I am a chronic masturbator, and that it tends to interrupt my work every hour. Loads of gizz. Also, does he mind that I accidentally drowned a dog? I was only 19 when I did it and I feel bad for accidentally tying cinder blocks to it's paws and rolling it off a bridge.
Anyway, yes, I too feel that I can trust you, like the winds of trust are slowly caressing my body, compelling me to believe everything you say. As much as I would love to exchange telephone numbers with you Linda, I'm afraid my crazy mother has prohibited phone useage in our house to zero. In other words, I'm banned from talking on the phone unless I pay the £823 I ran up on our last phone bill from those sex lines and masturbating. In fact, the woman I spoke to was named Linda. Luscious Linda she was, it's not you by any chance is it? Just curious...
Perhaps we could complete our exchange via the incredible medium that is electronic mail? I'll email you my bank details after I go down to the bank tomorrow (It's bank holiday Tuesday here in the UK), but could you please tell me what details I need to ask for? I could go in and say "Give me all the details for money transfers to Africa!", but I don't know if he'll understand me because of my lisp. It's not my fault I bite my tongue whilst masturbating!