Dear Steve,
I saw you went grocery shopping today, but the pantry was suspiciously bare...
I found the package of Oreos in your bedside drawer, and the Pepperidge Farm Chocolate Chunk cookies in Mom's "good china" part of the buffet cabinets. The Heath Bar Klondike bars were unable to conceal themselves in the downstairs freezer.
You're going to have to do better than that.
To teach you a lesson, I'm going to eat most of this tonight while you're sleeping. My blood sugars are going to take a bit of a hit, but you've really given me no choice and have no one to blame but yourself. Not only did your genetics give me my terminal disease, but you make me teach you this lesson.
If you find me in a coma tomorrow morning, or perhaps stone cold dead with a huge smile on my face, my beloved brother Dan can have all my worldly posessions and money in my bank accounts. Except for my Playboy subscription which should go to Jay, and Mom can have the rest of my senior pictures.
And save about $2,000.00. I figure that's how much a golden suit will cost. And I want to be buried in a golden suit.
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