Dear Wife/Brother/Dear or Close Friend/Ambassador/Prime Minister/Representative/etc. of the Hereditary King of (insert name of every known and many imaginary African nations):

I am writing in response to your many, many letters asking me for money. While I realize that I would be paid back in full, and indeed with interest, I will have to decline, as most days I don’t have enough money to buy name-brand cereal, let alone finance your Esteemed President’s journey to these United States of Hamerica, land of milk and honey.

I’m sure you realize that I do hope your country’s ancestral government heads will eventually work out all their problems, and someday re-take the rightful throne that has been so violently taken from them by this pesky ‘democracyness’ of which you speak.

Please understand that I do not mistrust you in any way; and indeed, almost any other time I would have been delighted to help you in this noble effort by giving you my social security number, home address, first-born son, and all the numbers pointing to my personal bank account. It’s just that at present my tolerance for scam artists is at an all-time low, and just because someone ‘got’ me once, doesn’t mean it will ever happen again. Least of all with someone who doesn’t know my first name.

Sincerely,

Mason/Martin/Joseph/Hakim/Larry/Theobalde/Jorge/Manuel/Henri/Mother Superiore des Ruines de Beaucoup de Jardins Fins

P.S.

That last one had me rolling on the floor for quite a large part of one whole day. We’re thinking about using the name for our next cat.

P.P.S.

Are there really people out there stupid enough to fall for this one? If so, they deserve to lose their money. Sheesh.