Letter to My Chicken Sandwhich

Dear Chic-fil-a Sandwhich number 318

It is with a heavy heart that I must ask your forgiveness. Once you were probably a mighty chicken, the most beautiful and well respected chicken in all the coop. You probably had friends and family, maybe even a little chicken book club. You played chicken games with your chicken kids, sang chicken songs with your chicken choir, and laughed at silly chicken jokes with your hilarious chicken friends (except claire, she’s a bitch). Why you must have had the quaintest little chicken life.

But alas, it is no more. And so I must admit that I am at least partly at fault for your demise. Today I succumbed to the most primal of desires: hunger. Because of me, your entire world came crashing down. For this I am sorry. But I must also thank you. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, and it was yummy. You gave your life so that mine could continue. I regret that you had to die, but on the plus side, you were the most delicious sandwich this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Say what you will about Chic-fil-a but they make a damn good spicy chicken sandwich.

And so I once again apologize, and I thank you, with out your savory goodness my day would be infinitely less bright.

Sincerely,

Matt Gilmartin

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