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Are You A Readers Digest Winner?

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The Request

‘You are bearing a suspiciously large bundle there, Mr. Murdock.’

Matt attempted to smile winningly at Foggy.

‘Read my junk mail, Foggy? I’d hate to miss something if I just dumped it all and the OCR software is the worst.’

Foggy pushed notes and files around on his desk until a patch of surface could be seen.

‘Let’s do this thing. I promise I’ll take it seriously.’

Matt sat across from him and leaned back in the chair.

‘I trust you, Foggy.’


Three misaddressed letters and two updates on health insurance later:

‘Okay, dude, I hate to be the one who tells you this but your landlord has written to say that your apartment has been claimed by the Great Cockroach Emperor, Fizbit the Uncrushable II.’

‘Huh. What happened Fizbit the Uncrushable?’

‘He wasn’t Fizbit the Ungassable. Anyway.’


‘Was that a verbal eye roll there? Mind your tone, Matthew. Anyway, you are being allowed to stay on in the capacity of court jester.’

‘This is the suit thing, isn’t it.’

‘No. Noooo!’

‘Yes. Yeeees.’

‘You’re going to have to learn the language, adopt the currency…’

‘Where do you even come up with this?’

‘What? They’ve even sent a handbook!’

‘That’s a Sears Catalog.’

‘Spoil my fun, why don’t you.’

‘Letter from my landlord?’

‘Yeah, they’re complaining about people smoking on the roof and making a mess.’

‘I’ll regret asking this, but do this again next week?’



The Sequel

‘Aw Matty, I’m so sorry.’


‘Your results from the clinic came back.’

‘Oh, do go on.’

‘You’ve got V.D..'


'All the V.D.s. And gangrene of the balls. And Super Herpes.’

‘Super. Herpes.’

‘Yep. The extra strong, extra awful kind that only hits people who break their phone off a bad guy’s face in a fight. Causing their wonderful, non-herpe’d friends to keep getting voicemail when they try to call to see if their best bud is, y’know, not actively dying somewhere in a gutter.’

‘I-. Deserve that.’

‘Yes, you do. And more!’

‘Fine. Fine! Foggy, I’ve said I’m sorry, okay? I’ll get a new phone.’

‘Super Herpes is a terrible way to go, man.’

‘You could have called the McBurnerphone.’

‘You have a dental appointment at 7am on the 25th. And for that last comment, I will be Snapchatting Claire and Karen all the hilarious things you do when you’re on dentist gas.’



Junk Mail 3: This Time It's Personal

‘Okay, I’ll take this seriously and not fuck around this time.’


‘Seriously, my hangover is blocking my creativity.’

‘You drink the eel, you take the consequences.’

‘Uggghh. Right. It’s from St. Agnes’. The orphanage. Children’s Home. Whatever they call themselves. Panhandling for donations. Guess they just see ‘lawyer’ and not ‘crippling student debt’. Huh. Yada, yada, yada, services cut, yada dee, tiles fell off roof, yad-‘




‘Your name is not Matthew Michael Murdock.’

‘What? Yes, it is, I know my own name.’

‘No. No! Your name is Matthew Michael Mau-‘

‘No, Foggy!’

‘Yes, Foggy!’

‘It’s a confirmation name, okay!? I was 12, you have to pick!’

‘Maurice! Your name is Maurice!’

’Sr. Mary Bernard picked it! She was nice to me. And she really wanted me to go with it. And I was already lying in confession about the whole senses thing. I mean, have you ever disappointed a nun? I couldn’t do it!’

‘Oh, suddenly my day is so much brighter. Are those birds singing?’

‘You’re such a dick.’




‘Matt! You’re in People!’

‘I don’t know what I expected.’

‘The fashion section!’

‘Foggy, I am pretty sure that’s a furniture catalog.’

‘Nope, it’s totally People. Want me to read the text?’


‘I’m doing it anyway.’

‘I know.’

‘’The newest superhero on the block is the Daredevil of Hells Kitchen!’’

‘I am a glorified vigilante and I am comfortable with that.’

‘A-hem. ‘While controversy surrounds his actions, we at People are unified about his new outfit.’’

‘Foggy, you are going into disturbing levels of detail, please stop.’

‘Never. ‘While some weirdos think that the horns are cute-‘’

‘What have you got against the horns?’

‘’-we appreciate that it’s way harder to stab than the last one!’ They’re giving you 7 bleeding crooks out of 10.’

‘I hate you.’

‘Also, this is totally a furniture catalog. Have you ever considered getting a sleigh-bed? They look way cool.’



Bride of Junk Mail

‘Junk, junk, junk, writ from Cary Elwes saying you jacked his look, menu from that Thai place by the dry cleaners…’

‘Entirely fair, I wouldn’t even take on my case. Oh, we should get takeout there later.’

‘As you wish.’



Junk Mail: Age of Ultron

‘So, this was, ah, acquired last night. Fine, it was left on top of an unconscious mugger. I don’t know who would be sending Daredevil notes.’

‘Uh. This is from the Avengers.’


‘No. No, it is. I am not fucking with you.’

‘Sure you’re not.’

‘They’re saying that if you want any help, you can call them. They’ve given you their number.’

‘Is it 1800-Foggy-Lie?'

‘Matt, I am 100% not lying. Here! Smell it! You can probably smell Captain America off it. I bet he smells like apple pie and eagles.’

‘Fine. Hmm. Smells like manure.’

‘Fuck you, buddy. Properly smell it!’

‘Okay, fine. God. Well, smells like a mix of Palmolive soap and really expensive perfume. Weird combination. And. Oh.’


‘Gunpowder and vibranium. I take it all back.’

‘Damn right you do. Hey, do you think Captain America would join our office baseball team?’