Foodfight little bitch

What the fudge did you just fudging say about me, you cold-farted itch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the USDA, and I’ve been involved in numerous advertising campaigns against Brand X, and I have over 300 essential vitamins. I am a talking gorilla mascot and I’m the most hip and appealing ike in the entire USDA. You are nothing to me but just another shitty store brand. I will wipe you the fudge out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before in this supermarket, mark my fudging words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fudger. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of blue talking computer mascots and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the indoor lightning storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little things you call your additives. You’re fudging dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can ORDERR A RECALLLL in over seven hundred ways, and that’s WITHOUT flailing around having a seizure. Not only am I extensively trained in terrible food puns, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the US Food and Drug Administration and I will use it to its full extent to ban your artificial ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fudging tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit chocolate all over you and you will drown in it. Frankly my dear, I don’t give a SPAM™.