To the unrepentant sneezing minger

To the person sat behind me on the bus this afternoon,

Yes, you. The one who sneezed all over the back of my head and shirt.

The one whose nasal ejections are so incredibly copious that when I unpeeled the shirt still stuck to my back 30 minutes later, I could tell from its smell that not only do you smoke but that you chew strawberry chewing gum to hide the odour.

The one who left my hair stickily matted to the back of my head for my entire journey home.

The one who, when I turned round and looked at you, saw that not only had you made no effort whatsoever to cover your mouth, but you didn't even mumble a single word of apology.

You, sir, are a unashamedly inconsiderate, disgusting minger.

I hope the next puppy you pass pees on your leg; the next baby you hold fills its nappy on your lap; the next seagull overhead scores a direct bullseye on your head - just so you too can experience the joy of unwanted excretions, exactly like those you bestow on the poor people unfortunate enough to inhabit your blast radius.

Yours, freshly showered,

Quark.