In further proof that I’ll not likely pass my next new-hire screening, here are two of many prank letters I wrote 17 years ago. The Internet never forgets, and Pat Kutack never forgets to renew his URL dedicated to his now defunct Georgetown University comedy troupe called “Rebels Without Applause.” Mind you, I never had the courage to join the folks on stage. But I video taped their shows (in exchange for an open tab at the bar).

We’ve come full circle haven’t we? Do you think I was kidding about this WillVideoForFood name? I once videotaped a wedding surviving only on olives from the bar.

Here are two letters I shared with Pat during college. They’re prank letters to two cereal manufacturers:

1. General Mills’ Cinnamon Toast Crunch because I found a cigarette butt in my bowl.
2. Quaker’s Cap’N Crunch, because the cartoon “icon of the devil” was freaking my kids out. Never mind that I wouldn’t have kids for another 7 years after writing that.

Highlights: November 18, 1990. To Quaker: I have two kids and they used to eat Cap’N Crunch all the time. But then once a friend of mine told me that Cap’N Crunch he’s an icon of the devil. I got to noticing that my kids acting realy strange when they eat the food. The last box I bought I won’t let them eat and its hard anyway ,so they shouldn’t eat it. We aren’t buying your cereal anymore because there scared and I am too of it.

In great diplomacy, Quaker didn’t give the devil his due. But a “consumer response specialist” did explain (see below) that the Cap’n artist was Jay Ward, the creator of Rocky the Squirrel and

Bullwinkle the Moose. So that pretty much cleared things up, and I’ve been a fan of Cap’n ever since. Especially peanut butter.

P.S. This brilliant comment from Marquisdejolie: I remember reading about that. Some poor smoker at General Mills was fired despite his vehement protests of innocence. His wife left him, taking the children and everything he owned except a ratty old recreational vehicle. He lived in it down by the river for years, cultivating a wicked bad drinking habit. Then one day, he snapped, parked the RV along the route of a city parade and began shooting at the floats screaming “There’s your butt! There’s your butt!” The sniper was killed in a hail of police fire, but not before he mortally wounded a much beloved math teacher and three school children. It was in all the papers.