Dear Mr. Asika,
I am sorry to inform you that your father was killed by a rooster who was “cuckoo” for your father’s Cocoa Puffs. The fact that the Cocoa Puffs were in a bowl filled with gold-plated milk is irrelevant. That crazy rooster stops at nothing, nor does the Lucky Charms leprechaun nor does the Trix rabbit. The only person who can be dissuaded from his goal of absconding with his favorite breakfast cereal is Frankenberry, and only if you tempt him with his own humanity.
I have seen Barney Rubble bomb Fred sideways into a less-marketable part of the Stone Age to get Fruity Pebbles (just a bowl, mind you), Cap’n Crunch scuttle his ship and flog his men to get but a taste of the delicious part of this nutritious breakfast that bears his name, and Sugar Bear shit in the woods on a succession of pontiffs. I say to you 99 and 44/100ths percent verily, Mr. Asika, that there is no way to safeguard the Ivory Coast from the caprices of breakfast cereal mascots, for they approach their obsessions with zest.
As you doubtless know, the current Miss America, Blicket von Diastolic, is made entirely of cocoa and gold. What you may not know is that she and I are engaged to be married. I popped the question on the “Finding Forrester” ride at Fox Studios and Theme Park. I can think of no better present than to provide my dear Blicket a wedding dowry that includes an interest in an African Gold and Cocoa mine. As Cocoa and Gold David Lee Roth says, “You’ll get some leg tonight for sure!”
Please do not think that I am not devastated by your father’s murder, but surely you can understand how long I have wanted to bang this girl. From the first time she sang a medley of “Gloria” that went from Handel to Van Morrison to Laura Branigan in the Miss Rhode Island competition, I knew I had to have her. Blicket’s lack of bowel control and her incomplete spine made her that much more appealing to me, who is part of a collective of very short men who are trying to be invertebrates using only Christian Science.
Please send me your credit card number with expiration date as soon as possible. In order to make my dreams come true, and therefore honor the memory of your martyred father and plant a tree for him on the Avenue of the Kellogg Folks in Battle Creek, I will require monies with which to purchase wares, such as a special Quisp spoon, finery, such as holy vestments to ward off Count Chocula, and foodstuffs, including a hunk of cheese for which I’m hankerin’. I will also need to acquire equipments, which will be forged to my specifications by certain smiths and wrights.
I am looking forward to our business partnership and warn you to keep this in strictest confidence, as Cookie Jarvis cannot protect us all.
Yours,
Marty Barrett