"but chester will say he hates fishing"

Dear Peanut Guy,

My name is Hampton. I have a question about my friend. I like to go fishing and I go fishing with my friend who I will call Chester. When Chester and me go fishing we have a good time fishing. But when we get to school Chester will say he hates fishing, and I think its because he wants to be impressed for Dan and Skyler who always get the girls in school. What should I do? Also in your picture your write backwards and you don't even look at the page, how come? Are you stupid?

signed-
~Hampton

dear hampton,

your challenge to my intellect is far beyond laughable. it is risible to the umpteenth degree. it is indeed so exotically outlandish, so deliriously daffy in its whimsical preposterousness, that all the zany, screwy, and waggish elements in my bone-chillingly adroit nut-core now scream your name, "hampton!", "hampton!" in a snowballing crescendo of pure and seemingly endless farcical bliss. we of peanutkind never write directly, prefering instead to write backwards at all times. we never look directly at the page, prefering instead to mesmerize passersby with our disarming charisma rays. for to do either of these things would be to bore our hauntingly powerful brainmatter. our premature legumelings write forwards, you arrogant rube.

on to your question: chester, dear hampton, has discovered that the young women of high school swoon not for fishing. however, he has chosen the simpleton's route to their hearts by decrying rather than eschewing the topic or channeling it into swoonworthy lovespeech. in one fell swoop even you, puerile hampton, can defeat chester, win the hearts of women, and become the envy of dans and skylers everywhere:

bring your fish to school at the end of a long string of barbed wire

drop the fish at the feet of dan, skyler and chester as they mope about, fish hating in the cafeteria.

affix your eyes on the dreamboat of your choice, and when a hush falls over the crowd, fall to one knee and whisper these alkaline words: "walleye, maureen. i bring you walleye. let us dine this night for peace, for justice, and for the bedazzler, whose sparkling emeralds and mesmerizing rubies encrust our denim for all the world to enjoy. with love, with purpose, and as a testament to your everlasting beauty, i bring you walleye. walleye, maureen."

with its last breath, my humor gland shall whisper softly, beautifully, "hampton."

enormously,
the peanut guy!