Dear Hamilton,

I am writing to inform you that I do not think much of your selection of cheeses. Just last night, I snuck into the fridge and saw that you had only tasty cheese. This cannot go on. I request that you buy aged gouda or, if you must, Greek feta. And while we are on the topic of food, how about some more expensive dinners? I mean, baked beans? Really? How about some caviar, or lobster. Even roasted turkey would do the trick. So please, sir, when you are getting food, think about the mice.

Sincerely, Alistair Albrecht.

Now you see, now you see, Mr Policeman, I was only going into that house-lovely house, by the way-to go and leave a nice gift for my friend, my old friend, baby bear. You understand? And the reason I was sneaking around was because I didn’t want him to know I left him the gift, because you see, it was actually a bomb, and oh oops, I probably shouldn’t have said that, and see you, no need to follow me, and hey! I said no need to follow me, oh you don’t need to pull out that baton, and OH!