Three-fold curse with postscript

Overcast and humid with occasional shower and hot sunny spells.

To the person who came into my garden in the last couple of days and stole one of my new jasmine plants, I curse you thus:

As the jasmine in other gardens perfumes the air with romantic dreams, may this plant give off the foul stench of sewage and roasting Nescafé.

As the plant takes root and grows vigorous, may your bad conscience take root, grow vigorous and spoil your enjoyment of Gardener's Question Time.

As this jasmine cost the princely sum of nine euros, may you lose nine times nine times nine times nine euros-worth of tender green things to the slugs, and juicy red things to the birds.

Oh yes, and if you just yanked it out and threw it in the hedge out of pure spiteful malice, may all your own efforts toward beauty in life be hauled out by the roots and hurled into the gutter, there to rot in a putrid mass. Amen.

Now I'm going to take off my pointy hat, make a cuppa and feed Greymalkin and Paddock.