It's 11:32 PM. This may be my last post ever. I MAY DIE SOON. I was so upset over losing the Japanese Scar plush, I succumbed to the Nutella in the cupboard. I tasted it. For the first time.
IT WAS AMAZING.
It was like eating Ferrero Rocher chocolates, but without the outside or the internal nut. Like pure filling. It was an orgasm in my mouth, and I had to go lie down before I hurt myself. One spoonful was too much. Too powerful. It overwhelmed me.
And when I awoke, PB was watching me.
It knew I had committed sin with the Nutella. I had strayed from the true path of the peanut buttery goodness. I knew I was damned. It was too late to take it back.
PB called me all sorts of dreadful names, and hurt my feelings. Such anger and disappointment, that I could so betray my forever love. How could I abandon the very thing that had held me so close for so long, PB demanded? How could I give in to the temptress? That painted Jezebel?
And then PB told me... so sadly and with such remorse and bitterness... that there was now a contract out on my life. Beware the cooking utensils. Beware the cutlery. Beware the household furniture. Beware the blender. But mostly, beware PB.
Rinja is going down.
Rinja -- the poor fool who dared jilt Mr. PB.