Angry, Part 2: Not Angry

(Angry, Part 1)

Dude, I'm really sorry about that outburst a few months ago. Turns out my M&Ms were in my desk drawer. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I should've known you didn't take them. You don't even like chocolate, let alone chocolate in a delicious candy shell.

And I'm really sorry for calling you a terrorist. I did some research about September 11th, and it turns out those attacks had nothing--or very little--to do with M&Ms. If anybody's the terrorist here, it's me. It's actually not me; I'm not really a terrorist. I just said that to make you feel better.

I think I'm most sorry for nearly killing you. And thanks for not pressing charges, by the way. That's really big of you. I didn't mean to kill you anyway. I just wanted to teach you a lesson about taking my M&Ms. I know you didn't take them, I'm sorry, but I had to make an example out of you so that no one would touch my M&Ms ever again. I really thought the flamethrower would just toast your clothes. I really didn't mean for you to lose your arms and half your brain function. But I guess that's what you get for taking my M&Ms, right? Oh yeah, you didn't take them. I forgot for a second.

I hope that spending the rest of your life in an assisted living home isn't the worst that ever happens to you. I mean, it's not all bad. Some of these nurses are pretty hot. Oh, I didn't know about the permanent catheter. Sorry.

Anyway, I can't really afford to help you out on your bills right now, and I don't really think that's my responsibility. I mean, I'm not the one who almost got burned to death, was I? Try and understand the situation I'm in here.

Get well soon! Here's a balloon!