Dear Mr. Peanut,
Just where do you get off? I see you, walking around with your tophat and cane, and that high falutin' monocle of yours, and I want to know just who the heckfire you think you are? You think you're better than the rest of us? Is that it? Well, nutboy, I got news for you: You ain't.
See, my daddy taught me the best thing a peanut could ever do was to up and make itself into peanut butter. That's the spirit of cooperation. That's the spirit that made this country the best country on God's green earth. It's why the terrorists hate us: they don't like us trying to spread our peanut butter all over their backwards hellhole.
You ain't helping, Mr. Peanut. You with your fancy duds, all duded up like a fancy Mr. Fancy. It's cuz a' you the terrorists won't even try any peanut butter. You're a classist and a racist and a very, very bad (peanut) man.
Get some dirt on your spats and join the rest of us workin' folks who's trying to make this nation even greaterer than it is.
Sincerely,
PB&J
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