“We know your own pit-crew chased you back onto the track with pitchforks last week…”

Dear Herr George,

Willkommen in Deutschland. My name is Ernst and I am Herr Müller’s personal assistant.

Herr Müller will be at Sachsenring on Sunday, even though going to Scheiße Löcher like Dresden aggravates his gout. The last time Herr Müller came to Dresden gypsies stole the wheels off his Bentley Mulsanne and wrote dirty gypsy words in Scheiße all over the glass.

This made Herr Müller question, once again, why Angela Merkel is so…well, casual with our border policy. Little good has come of it, as I’m sure you’ll agree.

Many of us long for the days when the Wermacht…oops, I believe it is called the Bundeswehr now, would ensure the security of people like Herr Müller as they traveled the provinces. We had very few gypsies and a good deal of ordnung back then.

And Herr Müller likes his ordnung, but maybe not so much the gypsies who steal his wheels.

The reason I am writing to you is to ask if perhaps you would be good enough to let someone else wear your leathers just for this one race.

It would mean a lot to Herr Müller. This is, after all, an important round for him, and Herr Müller has invited many of his colleagues and friends to Volkswagen’s corporate facility to enjoy our hospitality and to see our race team perform at the highest level, which it is turning out not to be a level you are able to achieve anymore. Or approach. Or attempt. Or consider. Or imagine.

And by “perform” I mean finish on the podium rather get lapped by racers Herr Müller now regrets not buying. Herr Müller would also appreciate it if you didn’t cry each time you saw a cloud.

Herr Müller has had this made into a poster. This is not a good thing.

We know your own pit-crew chased you back onto the track with pitchforks last week when you thought it was raining and rode back into the pits. Herr Dall’Igna has asked if we could send him a shock collar to avoid such things in the future and we are looking into it. Herr Dovizioso has been wearing one all season and look how well he is doing.

Germans do not cry, Herr George. And people who are owned by Germans are not allowed to cry. It is in your contract and is strictly verboten.

I understand it will rain on Sunday, which we have seen is problematical for you. And while Herr Müller can make it rain, he cannot make it stop. At least not yet. Hahaha! Just kidding.

So no tears from you, Herr George. Not kidding at all.

What do you think about my proposal? It would make Herr Müller very happy, and Herr Müller has not been happy for a long time, as I am sure you know. I think maybe a shock collar around your neck will make him a little happier, but we will see.

I believe Herr Petrucci is available, as is Herr Redding. Herr Müller has even mentioned Herr Rabat, who we understand will race for cold sauerkraut if he is asked, and his team really doesn’t care who he rides for as long as it isn’t them.

We have tried to contact Herr Dall’Igna about this, but he is not answering his phone and the message he left is all in Italian. I have had it translated and Herr Dall’Igna appears to be pleading for mercy and asking not to be sent to a camp aboard a cattle train. Hahaha! We do not do mercy or camps anymore, so I think he is joking.

So then it is settled. You will please come to the back of the Volkswagen corporate facility this afternoon and you will bring your leathers and helmet, so that we can have them altered to fit someone else.

Then you will enjoy our hospitality until after the race is finished, and then you will be free to go on holidays. Herr Müller has asked me to reserve a cabin for you at our corporate retreat in Poland. And I have taken the liberty of arranging your train journey there. People fly too much in jets today and trains are much more environmentally friendly.

I hope you like soup and exercise, Herr George.

Mit freundlichen Grüßen,

Ernst Streicher
Persönliche Assistentin zu Matthias Müller
Volkswagen Aktiengesellschaft
Wolfsburg, Niedersachsen
Deutschland

Tags: Dear George, Laughter

About the Author

Boris is a writer who has contributed to many magazines and websites over the years, edited a couple of those things as well, and written a few books. But his most important contribution is pissing people off. He feels this is his calling in life and something he takes seriously. He also enjoys whiskey, whisky and the way girls dance on tables. And riding motorcycles. He's pretty keen on that, too.