I hate string cheese. Wait, no… I highly dislike cheese. Mommy said that hate is a bad word. Good thing Mommy is dead. String cheese killed her. String cheese attended her funeral and threw string cheese around like confetti as he screamed. I hired the shredder of all string cheeses to play string music as he stringed stars on stringed lights above a silly string casket of my stringy mother. No one will ever suspect I was the one guilty of the crime. Except for the neighbor's parakeet, who seems to be suspicious. I'm glad Mommy ate my string cheese. Mommy took my childlike innocence and replaced it with cheese. How despicable, I shall take my vengeance soon. First I need a plan. I'll just commit arson. Unfortunately, cheese doesn't make a very good firestarter so I guess I'll just cry.