I’m writing to you to air my grievances about the pies sold at the Fisher Coffee Cart. My expectations for the quality of these pies is already significantly low: normally they are akin to paleolithic fossils, possessing the taste of dried concrete, and I have grown accustom to this. However, today, the soggy piece of shit that I purchased with four dollars and thirty-five cents of taxpayer dollars was as inedible as actual dog shit. The only way I could recreate this culinary sensation was if you had a loaf of bread, chewed it up, and then spat it into my mouth. Now it might be “reasonable” for a person to suggest that I should stop buying these pies, but I am not a reasonable person; If Tony Jones ever tried to tell me what democracy was, I’d follow him home and fill his car with fresh trout. I vehemently advocate that the Fisher Coffee Cart be shut down immediately and an exorbitant royal commission be established in an attempt to rectify this unfortunate situation.
With a misunderstanding of roman numerals,