The Peta Letters
From: Andy Griffith
Dear PETA:
Help me. I'm torn between matters of faith. I own a butcher shop, the one down on Elm Street. I am an active member of PETA, yet my profession is to mercilessly slaughter and package animals. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night due to a vehement nightmare of beef jumping from my plate and having its due revenge on my soul. My conscience is getting the better of me. Not even the great waters of Neptune can wash this blood from my hands. Yet I cannot quit, lest I leave my family destitute. What do I do?
Yours Most Sincerely,
A concerned citizen skilled in the art of butchery.
To: Master Butcher
From: PETA
Dear Master Butcher:
It pains me to inform you that, though your family prospers in that line of work, if you continue on like this, you will surely be punished greatly upon your pathetic death. Your family can survive on being hobos, I'm sure. But to erase such a long line of blood on your hands is a task not easily done. I suggest you eat nothing but lint for two and a half months, during which you will walk from Elm Street to the Himalayas garbed in an itchy wool sweater. You will sleep only two hours a week whilst on this pilgrimage, and you will do so on a briefcase containing the very tools of death you so ardently committed your murders. After the penal trek, you will climb Mt. Everest and sing a song with your arms outstretched to each and every animal you have killed. May God have mercy on your wretched soul.
Cordially,
PETA.
To: PETA
From: Billy Joel
Dearest PETA:
I want to know something, since I don't really know anything. Just this Tuesday, I went over to the McDonald's on Elm Street with a gaggle of my cronies to eat a couple of cheeseburgers. They tasted so good, but only recently I learned burgers were made out of meat. I'm confused. I need your guidance.
Graciously,
A Burger Fan with a Guilty Conscience
To: Burger Fan
From: PETA
Dear Mr. Joel,
You were right to contact such an agency as this. You know it's a scary time when someone tricks you into eating the product of the Devil. I heard once of a tale not as sinister as yours, but very similar. A friend of mine said he goes to the Golden Arch to get burgers. He says that when he gets his burgers, he removes the meat from the loaves, eats the rest, then holds a funeral service for the patties. This is one way of handling the situation. It is not, however, the ideal way, as it is cowardly. The ideal way is demonstrated in my next example. A good pal of mine was fed up with the McDonald regime one day, and so decided to make his small contribution to society by bringing down the McDonald's on Elm Street in flames. I suggest the same to you. Sure, you might go to prison, but so did Gandhi. Mankind is particularly averse to righteous, peaceful demonstrations.
Vehemently,
PETA.
The
To: PETA
From: Adam Smith
Dear PETA:
I cannot say I fully embrace your cause. I like my meat. It's good. Should I be so ashamed if I eat an animal? I also hear you don't condone the enslavement of our fellow beasts. Your belief system does not permit police officers to ride on horses in the city. Well, if you can protest, so can I. I send you this fine letter to warn you that at two o'clock exactly I will be coming over to your headquarters on Elm Street to perform a ritual customary in my family. I will ride a horse to your domain. I will give the horse no shoes, and I will fasten the bridle very painfully. I will wrap the horse in tar paper, and my whip will be a flagellum. When I arrive at your Elm Street hideaway, I will take my scimitar, honed with the bones of all my bacon, and slice the horse's head off right there and then. Then I will put the head in your bed.
Insincerely,
A rebellious Russian.
To: Russian Rebel
From: PETA
Dear Sir:
You are a most despicable monster.
Yours Inconveniently,
PETA.
To: PETA
From: Adrian Masias
Dear PETA:
I'm usually an excellent example of Vegan mankind. I like to show all the other dads that you don't need to eat bacon to be cool. Why, at the unveiling ceremony of the biggest flower of broccoli ever, I took my kids, made them write a report on it, and use it for show and tell. I even came there dressed as a giant broccoli plant to provide some visuals to enforce the readings. The teacher loved it so much, he told me to get out of the classroom before all the other kids got jealous. It was wonderful. So you see, I'm usually a great Vegan. But this past weekend, I was going camping with my dog, and a dreadful storm hit the forest we were in, resulting in a tree falling down on our tent. I got out alright, but my dog died in the crash. His name was Toodles. I got him from the kennel on Elm Street. I know right now he's in Heaven. So anyway, I held a prayer service for him, then I tried to get out of the forest. But every way was blocked by trees. I couldn't either climb over them, and the ground uncovered by trees had 'Keep of the Grass' signs in it. There was literally no way out. I had to wait until the National Guard arrived. Hunger started gnawing at my sides. I had no food, for I had given it all away to the homeless squirrels. I took a side glance at Toodles. My dog was silently, stiffly laying on the ground. He was just there. I absentmindedly picked a few pieces off of him, and before I knew it, he was no more than a pile of bones. What had I done?! Please tell me: will God ever forgive me in my gross cannibalism?
Frightfully Disturbed,
A Milandrian Refugee.
To: Milandrian Refugee
From: PETA
Dear Milandrian Refugee:
Fully understood your situation is. We will give you a little leeway in our judgement, as you did save the city's moths from burning themselves up in lanterns. However, what you did was morally wrong and despicable. Would you have liked your dog to have eaten your dead body? You seriously couldn't have waited a few days more until you ate? I know you were under stress, and wasn't thinking properly. And you are usually a good person, and so a light punishment is all you need. Tie your ankles together with a chain used for anchors, then inchworm up the Empire State Building using nothing but a pair of toilet plungers from the seventeenth century. Once you arrive at the apex, you will then do a handstand on the lightning pole, eat nothing but the grinds you find at the bottom of your skinny latte, and remain there until a storm similar to the one that ended your dog Toodles, and when a bolt of lightning rushes at the pole you are so precariously balancing on, jump off at the last second possible, and using your shirt as a parachute, glide safely and effortlessly to the bottom. If you do that small task, your soul might be saved. If I were you, I'd do it eight times. But I can only council, and not command.
Yours Indubitably,
PETA.
To: PETA
From: Andy Cooney
Dear PETA:
I have followed every moral statute your program has laid down for me. I have decorated my house with banana leaves and mow my lawn with my mouth. But I have good friends and family who mock my virtuous way of life, and continue in their pagan ways. Why, they even celebrate the pagan holiday of Thanksgiving! When I saw the President pardon that turkey, boy was I steamed. What wrong had the turkey done? Obama was the one who did wrong, what with spreading propaganda about the virtues of carving a turkey. Any official - and any civilian - who goes around with those idiot words on his lips should be boiled in his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. In fact, I sent Barrack a message stating just that. And do you know what he did? He brought me in for questioning! Thought I was insinuating violence or something. But I need your advice most desperately. How can I survive in a world so averse to the truth?
Despicably,
A Spaghetti Dancer in need of Good Words.
To: Spaghetti Man
From: PETA
Dear Spaghetti Man:
The PETA board applauds you most enthusiastically in your triumphs through this murderous, sadistic fray. I know you need guidance, especially with frustration at the chaos around you and with your stupid family's moral obtuseness. May I suggest to you you keep a few pairs of voodoo dolls in your bedroom at night, to help relieve tension? I think that it behooves you to spread your wisdom around your family, or else smite your ignorant relatives. If they will not listen, then they will not listen; nothing for you to fret over. But if there's any chance of a conversion, seize it, and conform the person hastily. Remember: there is always hope, even when there isn't.
Angrily,
PETA.
To: PETA
From: Adam Smith
Dear PETA:
I'm sure you are very well aware that you had me arrested the previous day, around two o'clock, on Elm Street, for spilling blood on your private property, as well as for manslaughter. I was merely demonstrating the first amendment. Was it so wrong to slay a horse that was mine? Besides, he ate my plum pudding. It was time for him to go. I just wanted to do it in such a fashion that would seem fitting to myself. Is the Big House really a fair penalty for demonstrating my rights? I think not. When I flee the coop, I'm going to do the exact same thing, only I'll replace the horse with you.
Amicably Yours,
An Avid Horse Slayer.
P.S. A horse isn't a human.
To: Jail Bird
From: PETA
Jail Bird:
If we thought you were audaciously ominous and brutal before, we now condemn you as a highwayman. If the death sentence wasn't illegal in this fair state, oh boy, would you get it! Why, it'd be the chair for you! Just remember this: you, and all your dirty little rascal friends, will learn well to pose no threat to our fine foundation. We are for the ethical treatment of animals, and it is only animals like you we don't mind being mistreated.
Most Brutally Yours,
PETA.
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