You are pathetic. You think you can ignore me? Fool. You know there’s no escaping me. I am your best friend and your worst nightmare. I have the power to destroy you. I will destroy you. And yet you’ll come back begging for more. You always do. There is literally nothing you can do, you miserable, feeble-minded, frail-boweled coward. I own you, weakling.

Dear Members of the Harvard Community:

As I approach the end of my tenure as Harvard President, I must confess there is one problem I thought I’d never solve. For years, social norms against robberies from communal fridges have discouraged me from descending down to the basement of Conan O’Brian’s freshman dorm to get the one thing I truly desire: cheddar cheese.