I know that you waste the empire's money on grinding gold into dust to drink in your water. I know what you did to that poor old woman. I know how much blood you bathe in every other die solis, just to feel powerful. I know that you secretly have a thing for small furry mammals (and not in a chaste way). I have been sent on an errand to kill you for your perversions and your waste of imperial funds. When you finish reading this letter, I'm going to stab you. 24 times, because you're just a little more despised than Julius Caesar.
The scary mean vampire dwarf standing in front of you, who definitely wrote this.
P.S.--This definitely wasn't written by Pluto, so don't think for a minute that it was.
P.P.S.--Because it wasn't.