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D E A R   H E R S H E Y ' S


Hershey Foods Corporation
Consumer Relations
100 Crystal A Drive
Hershey, PA 17033

March 13, 2003

Dear Hershey's,

Want to hear something funny? Get this: My uncle is named Hershey! How crazy is that? Well, maybe not all that crazy, but his name is Hershel and everybody calls him "Uncle Hershey," even people who aren't his nephew or niece. Just like your company! (Is your full name, by any chance, Herschel's Chocolates? If so, I could understand why you'd change it. Hershey sounds yummier than Herschel, that's for sure.) Uncle Hershey is 90 years old! That's almost as old as you guys! But the similarities don't end with his namesake, nosiree, Bob.

For one thing, Uncle Hershey insists on kissing everybody! Big, shaky, slobbery kisses for everybody in the family, and any guests that come over. Sometimes he kisses strangers in the street. I know you're not really supposed to do that kind of thing, but, hey, he's old, so we humor him. The kisses hurt, too. He'll grab your face with his gnarled hands and pull you near him and shout, "Who wants a Hershey kiss?" and before you can say, "No, Uncle Hershey, I don't want one," he's already got his gross lips on your forehead and gives you this slobbering kiss that makes a weird suction noise, like a zerbert. It feels like he's sucking the life out of you. Maybe he is, and that's why he's so strong and virile for a man of his age. You don't think he could really be sucking the life out of people, do you? I should ask a scientist if that's possible. Do you guys employ scientists in your chocolate lab? Hey... do you have chocolate labs (the dogs) guarding your chocolate lab (the lab) at night? I'm getting a headache thinking about how funny this pun is. I have to tell Uncle Hershey this. He'll wet himself. He does that sometimes, even without a hysterically funny pun to trigger it.

Also, Uncle Hershey sometimes gets this gross, off-white filmy substance all over his cheeks and lips, just like your candy bars sometimes do. What is that stuff, anyway? It's really gross. Will I die if I eat a candy bar with that stuff all over it? I sure hope not, because I ate one like that. Could you ask the chocolate-lab scientists? Thanks.

But you'll never believe this: Uncle Hershey is allergic to chocolate! Can you believe it? The Big Man Upstairs sometimes plays funny jokes on people like that. I mean can you imagine if, say, Albert "Cubby" Broccoli was allergic to broccoli? Or if Daryl Strawberry was allergic to strawberry daiquiris? Or if Meat Loaf was... Oh, hell, you get the idea. I'm tired now.

Anyway, back to what I was saying: Get this: Uncle Hershey is allergic to chocolate! Can you believe it?

I swear, nearly 99.99999 percent of the time when somebody finds out that Uncle Hershey is allergic to Hershey's chocolate (and Nestlé, too!), you know what they say? They say this: "Isn't that ironic?"

Gosh darn it, I get really steamed when I hear that. Nobody knows what irony means. Irony, as I'm sure your chocolate-lab scientists can very well tell you, is an outcome opposite to what is expected. The fact that my poor uncle is allergic to chocolate is unfortunate, and coincidental, but not really all that ironic. "Hershey" is a diminutive nickname for his proper name, "Herschel," which has nothing to do with anything chocolate. Why would anybody expect his name to prevent him from succumbing to an allergy which strikes 12 million Americans. I'm getting so freaking pissy just thinking about this. Is irony so freaking hard to understand? Who do you blame for this, Hershey? What do the choclolate-lab scientists think about it?

By the way, I have no idea how many Americans are allergic to Hershey's chocolate, or any other brand, for that matter. I simply made up that figure, 12 million, right on the spot. I'm sorry. I'm too upset about this whole "irony" thing. I should go.

Choc-o-later,

Josh Abraham

P.S. Chocolate is really bad for dogs, right? So your chocolate labs (the dogs) can't even eat chocolate from your chocolate lab (the lab). Now that's irony!

P.P.S. No, wait: it isn't. Never mind.



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