A Tale ... Even Worth Telling?

I recently sent this to DollarShaveClub customer service. I don't really care what their response is. It was just fun to write. :P

One morning last week when I awoke to the sounds of birds chirping, I took to the shower as I so often do. The shampoo stage had completed, and my beardly bristles beckoned. As the shower door dripped with pregnant drops of gathered steam, I reached for my beautiful, chrome, DollarShaveClub handle which was nestled in a sweet-tempered manner between the bar soap and tile wall. 

To my horror--and with the scene now playing in slow motion--I saw my index and middle fingers overshoot the gentle blade and nudge the handle past its fulcrum. Twirling, spinning, out of control! It dashed its head against the wall, bravely recovered as it fell, and then smashed itself against the cold, hard, unforgiving floor on which my now ashamed feet stood. The chrome remained, resolute, but its plastic innards were strewn about the place in a pool of soap and water. I cried. 

Then a look of fear passed over my face. What if they won't send me another one, and I keep getting more and more blades in the mail?

We'll see!