There’s all sorts of things that annoy me, but chewing is worst of all. I hate it when you chew, people. I hate hearing that sound. But here’s the thing, not all chewing is equal in my eyes. So some people I can tolerate and some people I can’t. It’s like decibels with glass, and the old joke of hitting the right decibel and you break the glass. Chew the right (which is wrong) way and you drive me close to the edge of sanity, if not over it.

What if I’ve stepped over the edge of sanity, thanks to you?

Do you have any idea what I’d do to you if you made me insane because of your chewing?

Do you know where that would go?

I would gnaw the biggest piece of dried fruit I could find. I would buy up all the Nature Valley Granola bars. I would bite into turnips like apples. I would slurp and smack on oatmeal, soup and omelets. Munch dog food. Masticate endlessly deep pockets of wet.

I would suck on bits of razor wire like spaghetti, lap up gravel in its blood gravy and end with numb swallow of teeth and pulp, washed down with salty solution.

Remove self from viscera.

Auto-eviscerate.

Chew up, spit out.