This is Tawanka speaking. Remember me? No, I didn’t think so. I’m writing to report the travesty that has become my obscurity. I’ve been insulted, abandoned, and forgotten. Is this the thanks that I receive for all the years I’ve tolerated your presence? You took my humble edibles and shoved them down your gaping throats. So some cheerleader got a little gassy; these things happen. What ever happened to forgive and forget? For those of you reading this who have no idea who I am, thank those cruel higher-ups who took me for granted and threw me aside. So the PUB is newer? Better? Nicely air-conditioned? The PUB can never give you what I gave you: my soul on a plate!

--Bitterly Yours, Tawanka