It has recently come to my attention that you have decided to discontinue production of your Planters Cheez Balls. While I am sure that you have plenty of reasons to do this, I am not aware of any of them. And frankly, I don't care.
I'm here to ask -- no, demand -- that you reconsider. You see, I have this little brother. He's a bit, er, "mentally challenged" as the kids say, being born without a corpus collosum and all, and there only three classifications of food that he will eat: Peanut butter and jelly, hot dog, and Cheez Ball. Planters Cheez Balls.
Your Cheez Balls. He loves them. And now you want to take them away from him.
Don't you realize that you're ruining a poor retarded boy's life? Do you really want to take responsibility for this? You know what, while you're at it, why don't you just go down to the veteran's hospital and start taking away wheelchairs, you cruel, cruel bastard.
Because it just wouldn't be Christmas without getting slimy orange sludge wiped all over my face.
I hope they crush your visually impaired ass into butter.
