trevor's band of awestruck milquetoasts

Dear Peanut Guy

Are you real or made up because I think you must be made up.

Signed,
~Trevor

dear trevor

it is with furious venom and unrivaled pomposity that i decry thine impish attempts at blaspheming that benevolent oracle, peanut guy.

from whence cometh thou, o trevor? surely not the kudzu farm, where all vile elements of peanut wrath coagulate. as trevor knows quite well, there beneath the seemingly benign earth lie rhizomes of malice and stolons of peanut-hate, which lash out viciously when peanutkind frolics elsewhere, but which quiver like so many blanched, awestruck milquetoasts when even the slightest newborn legumeling wanders by.

oh yes, trevor. i assure you i am very real. i am the tumor of righteousness that has lodged itself firmly betwixt thy tissues of treachery. for though thine banal and hollow chicanery is at present so easily disarmed, should our myriad spies detect the hint of a threat from you or your sordid ilk, you will spend the rest of your shameful days stricken with a most gnarly case of aspergillus flavus.

let it be known, dear readers: there are traitors in your midst. trust in the peanut and protection is guaranteed.

frankly,
the peanut guy!