I arrived at the parking station after a 12-hour day in the office, only to find that some mentally challenged individual had decided that my black car was offending his or her sense of entitlement. He or she had decided that my car would look much better with a 30-cm gash. Obviously, a key was used on the right-hand-side rear over the right rear panel. I think Dante describes it well. Like his Satan in the Inferno, you too are impotent, ignorant, and full of hate. Congratulations.
The car will be repaired, and I am happy to pay for it without claiming it on insurance. I could say that I wish that your car breaks down on Sydney Harbour Bridge during peak hour, but I am thinking about everybody else who would be affected, so let me finish up by wishing that the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits and leave it at that.