It all happened on a steaming hot day in early February. The weather was warm, but our cold, aching hearts kept us cool as I solemnly drove my friend Sweety Pie's food truck towards America, where the funeral of truly one of the sexiest and kindest men to ever have lived - my eleventh husbando, Mr. Peanut - was to take place. Sweety Pie, as well as our friend Sophie the Ant, rode with me. My B.F.F., Drew the dragon, also tagged along to provide support. We brought along quite the supply of peanut butter to eat and help cope with the fact that it was 'jammed' in that van.

...oh, so you noticed my preposterous peanut-related pun? Why did I 'crack' such a joke? Hehe. It's because---what's that? Why should I even bother writing a story at all with that kind of humor?? Well, why should I pretend to be you asking me silly questions when clearly you're the one with bad taste in jokes? It's because I was paying tribute to truly one of the liveliest and manliest sexies to ever have husbando'd, My eleventh kind, Mr. Peanut! Now be quiet and let me force-feed you my story!!

Ah---look what you technically didn't did! I got so distracted by my imaginary exchange that you, as portrayed by I, made me veer off a cliff! Wait...no. My sincerest apologies. I think it might have actually been my endlessly crying about Mr. Peanut for so long that I couldn't see the road that did it.....or maybe it's just because I don't actually know how to drive..........?

...*dun, dun, DUUUUUNNNNNN!*

*insert literal cliffhanger here*

~To be continued~