Can't get the time off work, so I need to sell it to one of you for a loss. That's right, a fucking loss. Take my money, you slimy fuckers.
So 15 people have looked, eh? Why don't I have 15 private messages exploding with offers of cash and fine wine?
Do I need to sweeten the deal with a hand-drawn, signed self-portrait of myself in the nude?
Not a fan of art? No worries, I'll simply include a kitten wall calendar from 2003 instead. You know you want it.