A Break In

I am here at the Mall of America and writing from the Whalberg's establishment.  I know nothing amazing, but I am absorbing what I can.  My apartment was broken into at last night.  They went through things, but only took some bread, my tomatoes, my tuna, and my cheese.  It is so Wiccan I cannot speak.  Well, Wiccan whores, BRING IT ON.  I know what I have in my pantry and drawers and you are all mentally retarded.  I hate every single one of you, and I was gone for about 10 minutes, and thus I KNOW that it was an inside job.  You are all going down, but you are taking the police down with you.  Maybe Donnie Whalberg will help me today.  I am getting my locks changed on Monday.  Play yourselves as innocent and not part of what is going on there, but I do not even think that it is a cleverer ruse.  I will contact uber security and we will figure it out.  Now YOU can try to sleep well tonight.