From the desk of Mrs. Judith Scott Williams
Threadneedle Street London EC2R 8AH
"We apologies," she says, for the delay of your payment. Judith, mo stor, that's not English. Right off I know you don't speak the language, so how stupid would I have to be to believe that you really do work for the Bank of England?
"We apologies, for the delay of your payment and all the inconveniences and inflict that we might have indulge you through."
Excuse me, what? Jesus, Mary and Holy St. Joseph but that translation software you're using is so far off the mark as to be incomprehensible. Oh yes, I'm really believing now that you work for the Bank of feckin' England. Who could resist that prose, the way you turn a phrase?
By the way, your e-mail address from whence this work of art originated? The 'pt' at the end tells me you're in Portugal. Long way from England, isn't it, darling?
Thanks all the same, and I'm thrilled to bits that "the square peg is now in square whole and can be voguish for that" my payment will be released as soon as I respond. Six million, five hundred thousand Great Britain Pounds will be left to languish, I fear, as I am not fully an eejit, in spite of my demonstrated persistence in trying to get a novel published.
How in the name of Heaven could anyone fall for this amateurish scam?