I’ve traveled the seven seas. I’ve explored lands far and wide. I’ve fought battles and slain beasts- and yet never have I felt a pain like that which the Royal Jacket Meatball Sub™ has latterly bestowed upon me. As I sit, perched atop my porcelain throne, all I can do is pray to all that is holy, pray that I shall o’ercome. Like a babbling brook my innards rumble and burble. There’s no force of nature, no quantity of Tums that can stop it now. I think to my family, but it’s no use anymore. All I can do is pray to the warrior gods of Valhalla that I shall best this beast- and if I do not- know that I died in combat- that I died a true warrior.

Woe, though my insides ebb and flow

My heart stays true, my love may grow

Damn you Royal Jacket, and your crappy Meatball Sub™

It’s ruined me for eternity, as I ruin this porcelain tub.