Postal Service employs Dobermans to deliver mail

Dear Netflix,

A few weeks ago I was told by you that you had shipped Stalag 17. This the WW2 German prison camp thriller which I have not seen. I did not receive it. I waited and then started to accuse. I thought that perhaps my upstairs neighbor who also gets Netflix had taken it by mistake, and then thought he was a thief. I checked to see if my roommate was using it as a coaster, but no. So, I sent an e-mail saying it hadn't come, and you shipped one out. No doubt you were thinking that I had wondered down to the local Blockbuster and tried to sell them my copy.

Vindication came two weeks later when I received this in the mail.
Some of you may recognize this envelope. It's the one they send to you, when something went wrong somewhere along the postal journey. Possible things that could have gone wrong?

• The automatic machine they use ate it.
• A dog ate it.
• It was used for scrap paper to take lunch orders for the midnight shift at SCF Boston.
  
• A letter carrier did horrible, unspeakable things to it.

In any event, your letter or postal item got trashed and they put it in a protective plastic sheath and drop it off. I like the "We Care" part. No you don't. How do you know that wasn't a letter containing my birthday money from Grandma, or Red Sox home opener tickets? It should say "We're Sorry." Seems only fair.

So I open the sheath and find this:
Netflix, as you know, this is the front of your envelope. I blanked out my address so that my female blog fans wouldn't stalk me (or that people would order pizzas to my house.) So the question is, where is the DVD? I have this image that it went home embedded in some poor bastard's head after the sorting machine shot it out like a discus. I hope this is not the case, as that guy is probably watching Stalag 17 and drooling due to the blunt brain trauma.

So all this is to say Netflix is that I'm not a thief and I have proof.

Thank you.

P.S. I know some people that work at this facility and they're all really nice. So I'm not insulting the work of the largest employer in the country. Please don't do unspeakable things to my mail. Except the credit card offers. Make them cry.