Dear Attractive Manly Landscaper,
I did not plan for your appearance in my screenplay. But here you are, and it seems you are going to stay, no matter what upheavals it might inflict on my tenuous thread of a plot. I blame Mags, that mead-making Green Witch of a plant merchant from the farmer's market. Things were going along fine, until she up and gave your business card to the main character. This sort of reckless disregard for my intentions is very disconcerting. If this is how you people are going to behave, you should learn to type and just leave me out of it. What's that? You're all non corporeal and can't type your own stories? Well maybe you should have thought of that before.