Dear Frozen Chicken,

i have been looking at you, sitting on my counter, for some time now.

i briefly considered defrosting you in the microwave, but for some reason, this always ends up in disaster. no matter how hard i try, i never seem to be able to get it right… when the cheerful bing finally sounds, the stuff i put in there is always cooked on the outside and still icy on the inside. ugh.

i am writing this letter to cheer you on.
my stomach is growling and it’s starting to get real angry with me. i know, you’re probably trying to make me suffer for wanting to eat you, but i promise your new home will be warm and cozy – at least for a while. when it’s time to let you go again, i will be reluctant – i know you will be delicious… and, honestly, who wants to voluntarily give up something that good?!

so would you please hurry up a bit? you’re my breakfast and i’m too lazy (and now too determined) to make toast.

thanks in advance,
the famished

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