What kind of mother raised you to believe that it is acceptable to so badly damage the brand-new car of someone who has done nothing, I repeat: NOTHING, to you whatsoever?
Did the shiny (and did I mention brand-new?) silver paint allow you to see your monstrous reflection, and did it repulse you so much that you had to destroy said reflective surface?
Has life been so unkind to you that you felt it necessary to demonstrate to someone else WHO YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW that life is unfair?
Did you assume, based on the new car, that I have been even a little bit successful, and did it make you so angry that you needed to cut me down (or cut my car with your key, as it were) so you wouldn't feel like such a complete failure?
How would you feel if you worked really hard for something, and then within three weeks of getting it, someone ruined it?
I just want you to know that I forgive you (but only because I am required to do so). Whatever has happened to you that made you so hateful, that turned your heart into such an abyss of blackness, that stripped you of any conscience whatsoever, must have been so much more terrible than the foot-long scratch you inflicted on my unsuspecting (and previously unblemished) door. So I feel pity for you. I hope you gain a soul sometime in this life.