You’re not, I repeat, NOT! such a good Montague. You’re not even the Montague I was hoping for.
Because of your ineptitude and indecisiveness, we are often misled – UNDER YOUR CRAZY LEADERSHIP!!!
What in the name of Albus Dumbledore was the purpose of our training when, as soldiers of this presently rattled world, all we get to do is sit by the benches and watch the marathon competitors fall over and get bruised???
Oftentimes, you make supposedly funny jokes, but frankly, they’re corny… racist even.
If we don’t do something, you say we have not a single drop of initiative in our blood. If we do something, you say it’s all wrong. What do you really want from us?!
You know, the problem is that you rarely come to the castle. Whenever we meet at the Round Table during working days, you’re not there. How can we coordinate and make our battle plans then?
I’m writing this to attack you – not the battalion. This is all for you, my dear Montague. We wanna kill every single Tybalt out there, you understand?! So quit swooning over imaginary Juliets and straighten your head!
P.S. Our mansion needs to be renovated!