I love Trevor at Bank of America because when he was trying to explain exactly how fraud had been perpetrated with my stolen checks he got into some murky syntactical waters filled with too many pronouns. Finally he said, "Okay, let's just call them the Bad Guys. The Bad Guys took your check into the branch..."
Dear Bad Guys,
Everything's been canceled so it's of no use to you anyway. However, if you want to keep my credit cards as a souvenir, you may. There are some things I'd like back, though. Could you please send me my Free Sandwich card, my old drivers license from Oregon (because I was just 23 and it is one of the only pictures I've ever liked of myself), that gift certificate that my brother gave me for Christmas (I was saving it until I found just the right sweater), and also my childhood library card? Oh, and while you're at it, could I have my wallet back? It's magenta and turquoise and probably doesn't match your stuff, but I really liked it. Thanks.
Oh, by the way, your mother is terribly ashamed of you. Please mend your ways.
Someone who used to have no opinion of you, who now wishes you ill