Jan Mattys hated auto-responders.

No messing this time. It's that simple. He really hated them.

When Jan Mattys wanted to talk to someone, he got in their face. Usually spitting. And his breath stank of whisky, so ... It was enjoyable for all concerned.

For some reason, Jan Mattys's fellow citizens didn't enjoy being harangued like this. He couldn't understand it. It was the way his family had always interacted with other people since time immemorial. A little drunken slander was a small price to pay for the best bread in town. Right?

Well not now the auto-responders had come along. Now JanMattys had to bypass some kind of horde of magic sprites just to get in his fellow citizens' faces. They needed to hear what he had to say. They knew that and so did he. So what were the little sprites trying to prove?

You don't mess with a man on a mission. And Jan Mattys's mission was going to end with his head on a spike. People needed to know that.

Also, bourbon.