After waking up to yet ANOTHER morning without hot water, the Roommate and I decided yesterday that it was time to fight back.  Letters were drafted, complaints were lodged, and work time was squandered on attempts to get our living situation back in order after the nightmare of the last month.  We took matters into our own hands and crafted the flyer above, which we slid underneath every door in our building. (Multiple copies were given to the vacant apartment across the hall–it’s only fair that potential tenants see what they would be getting into.)

The Roommate and I combined our respective amounts of frustration, indignation, and greasy hair and came up with our plan during an online chat.

RM:  They effed with the wrong people.

Me:  Got that right.  The South will rise again, bitches!

Vigilante justice is best served as a Southern dish, after all.