Why was my car being hijacked by copywriting asylum seekers?

Er… You tell me! But it’s the dream I was rudely awaked from this morning as my husband brought me a mug of coffee. There I was, wondering why my car engine was running when I wasn’t even in the car, when all of a sudden a family of asylum seekers popped up in the rear passenger seats. They’d been writing sales letters. Indeed they’d been writing a sales letter I was supposed to be writing for a new client. And there I was, screaming at them that this wasn’t how they should go about writing a sales letter. Reams and reams of text in bad English interspersed with hundreds of lengthy bullet points… aaarrrggghh, it was so bad that my sister told me I should call the police and get them arrested. But they escaped. Or, rather, I allowed them to escape because I decided they meant well, even if they had attempted to hijack my car and my copywriting project. And then I woke up. (Crazy copywriter!)

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