Dear Mr DJ
I'm sorry that I kept touching your cd's after you told me not to.
I'm sorry that you felt you had to slam down the lid of your cd box quite so aggressively.
I'm sorry for then continuously blowing feathers at your face - I guess I thought you'd find it funny.
I'm sorry that when the birthday girl pleaded with you to play some more and you refused everybody moaned at you for being a rubbish DJ.
For what it's worth, when you pointed at me and shouted that it was my fault and that you just wanted to go to home to your wife that had cancer, I did feel kinda bad....
Dear Birthday Girl
Sorry for ruining the end of your party...