Muy yucky

Dear Mucho Nachos,

I do not wish to sound paranoid, but I believe someone within your organization (was it Sour Cream, or perhaps Guacamole?) tried to poison me tonight.

Let it be noted that Rock and Roll Grammarian does not appreciate attempts on her life, nor does she appreciate any situation that forces premature retirement to bed (the Grammarian fell into a food coma shortly after arriving home, only to awake a couple of hours later, groggy and sick to her stomach).

If I'm in error, please forgive this missive. If, however, I am correct that you or your minions endeavored to kill me tonight, please know that I will not tolerate such behavior in the future.

Sincerely,
Rock and Roll Grammarian

P.S. -- Should you run into Laundry Room, please pass along the message that I find it simply unacceptable that it was locked when I dragged myself downstairs to buy a bottle of ginger ale. Instead, I had to schlep over to the corner deli, where I encountered Creepy Dude, who informed me that he'd "seen me walking." Please let Laundry Room know that I hold it -- in addition to you -- responsible for this occurrence.