February 2nd, 2010
Dear Mr./Mrs. __________
We’re writing to inform you that your application to the New Yorker was (excellent/appalling) and that you should be delighted to hear that we are going to (publish/burn) your submission. We assure you, it is our honor and our honor alone to (print such a marvelous story/make this literary mercy kill). While your work was incredibly (creative/offensive) within the confines of the literary world, we were surprised how the story line was so (fantastically integrated/comparable to pornographic film scripts). In fact, it was so (inspiring/trashy) that we’ve decided to make it (a featured piece/toilet paper in our bathrooms). Now, every time you’ll see one of our issues, you’ll remember that you’re (an accomplished writer/a hopeless buffoon).
To be specific about your work, we would like to point out your (well developed characters/atrociously mundane plot line). Your characters were so (vibrantly created/horrendously static) that the reader was able to develop an (intimate connection/ever-increasing intense loathing) for your creation. It was comparable to the best submissions we’ve (seen all year/received from Dane Cook’s even less funny twin). To readers, your work (came to life/recalled the depravity of the Inquisition) as they delved through (an immensely satisfying read/what they surely thought was a psychological test on withstanding mental torture).
In the future, we beg of you to please (continue to submit such incredible work/purge your mind of any thought of ever writing again). Here at the New Yorker, we see a bright future for you as (an accomplished member of our literary team/a narcissistic asshole who will supply us with a steady stream of shit for the years to come despite our repeated changes of address).
(Sincerely yours/We have already issued a restraining order),
Reginald Pettington IV
New Yorker Magazine
4 Times Square
New York, NY