Dear Squeak and Crumb, I am writing to complain about the mouse I purchased on Tuesday. I intended to eat it. I sat down with it, looked at it, and found that I could not. It looked at me with its currant eyes, and I felt a profound sense of responsibility.
Since then I have named him Reginald. He sits on my shelf. I carry him to the window in the morning so that he may enjoy the sun. My housemates find this concerning, and my own mother has asked whether I am well.
I wish to ask whether you are able to bake a mouse that looks less appealing, so that I can consume it without guilt. Yours sincerely, a loyal customer named Mittens.
Our Reply
Dear Mittens, thank you for your letter. We were deeply moved, and slightly concerned. Reginald sounds like a fine mouse, and we are happy to hear he is enjoying the sun. We would, however, like to remind you that he will become stale after about nine days.
We have considered your request for a less appealing mouse and regret that we are unable to offer one. Our products are made with love, and love cannot be turned down. However, we can offer the following alternatives.
- The Grumpy Mouse, with a downturned mouth, available on Fridays
- The Slightly Burnt Mouse, a popular choice for the emotionally prepared
- The Headless Mouse, for those who prefer not to be looked at
- A voucher for a free cheese danish, which has no face at all
A Note on Attachment
It is quite common for customers to form strong bonds with our baked goods. Last year a gentleman held a funeral for a particularly handsome mouse. We provided a small box and a eulogy, which was read by our youngest apprentice and was mostly squeaking.
We hope that you and Reginald enjoy many happy days together. If you decide to eat him, we will understand. If you do not, we will send a card.
With warm regards, Madame Pawline Crumb, Head Baker.
This correspondence is fictional.