Dear Mr. Sobey,
I had recently taken it upon myself to purchase from your store, in a moment of weakness brought on by a terribly long workday and the hormonal pleadings of my significant other, a chocolate-icing covered brownie of the “Gourmet” variety for the sum of $3.29 (before taxes and miscellaneous costs, including those of transportation and forgone income). I had sincere expectations of wonderment and epicurean delight, attested to by my pronounced salivations.
This “Gourmet brownie” was most dry, unappetizing, crumbling, and pedestrian. It was as though a robotic pastry assembler had used its forked metal arm to mix a box of Grade C Industrial Cake Mix in the stead of more suitable brownie-producing ingredients – a catastrophe surpassed when its human overlords did not disassemble and then destroy with acid the errant robot.
If Mr. Sobey understands the meaning of right and wrong in the Realm of Commerce, then I would submit that he take the appropriate and presently overlooked steps of remedying such gastronomical shortcomings as those that I so unfortunately experienced in my partial (yet still utterly devastating) consumption of his “Gourmet brownies”.
Good day sir,
Andrew Shuttlecock the Third