Pantherella hast sullied their fine product with gaudy logos. I am forlorn.

[aj805]

Imagine my shock when, having recently received a package containing dress-socks from this once-fine establishment, I spied the letters P-a-n-t-h-e-r-e-l-l-a emblazoned in bright white print on each pair!

Lo! On first opening of the package, the print that I spied I believed to be part of the packaging or perhaps a tag; but a closer inspection revealed that the print was on the very fabric itself--permanently marring the items that were to attend my finest ensembles of dress.

I reeled back in startled disbelief and horror, dropping the socks in a heap amid the tissue-paper and boxes, and fell back on my bed, shuddering. For a moment I was not sure what had just happened, and felt in shock, with a slight perspiration flashing to my forehead, and my vision becoming blurred. But after several moments, I began to regain my composure, and steeled myself to confront the new world into which I had just been thrust.

I stared ahead, my eyes tightening their focus at the pile of fabric now lying inert on my dresser, and lifted myself off the bed. As I drew nearer, the bright white logos gleamed at me from each pair as the eyes of belligerent wolves approaching a campfire in the night.

"I must have inadvertently ordered from some cheap knock-off company in error", I hoped, likely in some futile effort to assuage my shock and disgust. I walked back over to the pile, and picking up a pair, read the silk-screened print again:

P a n t h e r e l l a

and, reading onward, the subscript:

THE FINEST ENGLISH SOCKS

I at once grimaced in disgust, my mouth curling in preparation to emit some distasteful reaction, either of harsh words or else the aspiration of my breakfast of steel-cut oats and pine-nuts. "No," I uttered curtly. "This cannot be."

Grabbing my phone, I went off to locate the telephone number for this company, which I found in short order. I knew that I must not only register my complaint, but counsel the establishment in the error of their ways, in order that they might right the ship in haste and avoid certain calamity. They must be advised that the printing of branding elements on their garments negates the very value proposition that their establishment holds! "That was a ******* **** move", I would say, then vigorously terminate the call.

I struggled to dial the overseas number, varying my approach of entering "+", "0" at the start and before the prefix segment, in an attempt to get through, but each time being notified by my device that the number could not be reached as dialed. Oh, what vast oceans of Earth and confounding technology separate us!

And so my ordeal continues, as I seek to redress the offense done to myself, other customers and their once-fine products. Friends, I implore you to join me in this quest, and help defend what few traditions of fine dress and quality products remain in our world.

 

[JFWR]

Imagine my shock when, having recently received a package containing dress-socks from this once-fine establishment, I spied the letters P-a-n-t-h-e-r-e-l-l-a emblazoned in bright white print on each pair!

Lo! On first opening of the package, the print that I spied I believed to be part of the packaging or perhaps a tag; but a closer inspection revealed that the print was on the very fabric itself--permanently marring the items that were to attend my finest ensembles of dress.

I reeled back in startled disbelief and horror, dropping the socks in a heap amid the tissue-paper and boxes, and fell back on my bed, shuddering. For a moment I was not sure what had just happened, and felt in shock, with a slight perspiration flashing to my forehead, and my vision becoming blurred. But after several moments, I began to regain my composure, and steeled myself to confront the new world into which I had just been thrust.

I stared ahead, my eyes tightening their focus at the pile of fabric now lying inert on my dresser, and lifted myself off the bed. As I drew nearer, the bright white logos gleamed at me from each pair as the eyes of belligerent wolves approaching a campfire in the night.

"I must have inadvertently ordered from some cheap knock-off company in error", I hoped, likely in some futile effort to assuage my shock and disgust. I walked back over to the pile, and picking up a pair, read the silk-screened print again:

P a n t h e r e l l a

and, reading onward, the subscript:

THE FINEST ENGLISH SOCKS

I at once grimaced in disgust, my mouth curling in preparation to emit some distasteful reaction, either of harsh words or else the aspiration of my breakfast of steel-cut oats and pine-nuts. "No," I uttered curtly. "This cannot be."

Grabbing my phone, I went off to locate the telephone number for this company, which I found in short order. I knew that I must not only register my complaint, but counsel the establishment in the error of their ways, in order that they might right the ship in haste and avoid certain calamity. They must be advised that the printing of branding elements on their garments negates the very value proposition that their establishment holds! "That was a ******* **** move", I would say, then vigorously terminate the call.

I struggled to dial the overseas number, varying my approach of entering "+", "0" at the start and before the prefix segment, in an attempt to get through, but each time being notified by my device that the number could not be reached as dialed. Oh, what vast oceans of Earth and confounding technology separate us!

And so my ordeal continues, as I seek to redress the offense done to myself, other customers and their once-fine products. Friends, I implore you to join me in this quest, and help defend what few traditions of fine dress and quality products remain in our world.

Egads, man, that is truly intolerable. I feel for you and your loved ones in these trying times.

 

[Nyarlathotep]

Jesus Christ