This cat-astrophic event was precipitated by the following, which I found on her computer screen when I went to investigate the source of the nap-snapping thud:
Dear Ms. Snarrk,
This email query letter comes to you after extensive research of your blog's web site. I have selected *you* out of all the other literary agent candidates to represent my completed 365,000-word fiction novel, "Killer Sex: My Marriage To George Clooney. Actually, its a blueprint of how *Im* going to manipulate George Clooney into marriage, maybe you can use my ideas in your quest to marry Tom Cruise! You strike me as being somewhat more intelligent than most of the morons pretending to know anything in the whorish literary agent profession.
As I am eager to move forward on my writing career, I can email the PDF to you (I'm sure youre not one of those dumbass clueless losers who want busy writers to waste a lot of money, time and trees to submit hardcopy mss) but must ask you to please have it read by next Saturday. I will have another novel ready for you shortly as I have the (400,000+ and counting) sequel work in progress, Why He's Gay Now. By then I will have probably divorced Mr. Clooney and left him a broken ruined wreck of a man, so I can marry the Sultan of Bhutan.
Please respond promptly or Ill be forced to submit my guaranteed Dan Brown-shaming best-seller to some gin-soaked lush with an obnoxious yap-rat I met at a writing conference recently. My email address is firstname.lastname@example.org/. Might be a good idea for you to whitelist this address for the future. Ive whitelisted you so the contract makes it through my spam filters.