Dear Burger King,

I would like to start this letter out by mentioning that I have always enjoyed your product, despite the obvious health risks. Your glowing, burger-shaped sign has many times been a beacon of hope to me, usually between the hours of 12 a.m. and 4 a.m. And even though the combination of your grease-coated food and four to twelve beers often placed me on the toilet for an hour of regret the next day, I still returned to your fine establishment time and time again. But after a recent incident, I will no longer do so.

The incident I am referring to occurred on the night of February 24, 2009, at approximately 11:45 p.m. I was calling it an early night, as I was feeling unnaturally tired, and decided to get some food for the drive home. I pulled into the Burger King drive thru, as I often do, and placed an order for onion rings, a spicy chicken sandwich, and a Whopper Jr.

I received my order and on the drive home I almost immediately noticed I had been given fries instead of onion rings. This occurs often and I consider it an acceptable mistake, especially since onion rings and fries cost the same, so I didn't get screwed out of any money. It was what I dug out of that grease-coated bag next that drove me to type this letter.

I pulled out one of two sandwiches. This one felt quite light, so I assumed it to be the spicy chicken sandwich. I opened it up and discovered that it was not a chicken sandwich at all, but instead, three chicken nuggets, coated with mayonnaise, on a bun. A Triple Nugget and Mayo Sandwich.

At first I shrugged it off, assuming that the chicken nuggets were simply easier to prepare than a chicken patty. I ate it, slightly peeved, then pulled out what I thought was the Whopper Jr. What I pulled out was the spicy chicken sandwich.

That is correct. You, Burger King, replaced my Whopper Jr., a heavily-promoted burger topped with theoretically-healthy accessories like lettuce and tomato, with three chicken nuggets and mayonnaise.

Why did you decide to do this, Burger King? Was it because you knew I was slightly (though certainly not to a noteworthy extent) intoxicated? No, I don't believe so. I believe it was because you knew I was not going to open the bag until I was too far down the road to turn around, drive back and complain. You were correct. And two days later, this incident still has me burned.

That is why I am now organizing a nationwide boycott of Burger King. It is not just because I am very vindictive that I am organizing this boycott, but because I would hate to see one of my fellow fast food conneisseurs burned in this way. To take an item that I ordered, one that you thrust upon the American public via the airwaves on a daily basis, and to replace it with some concoction that is not even, nor ever will be, on the menu is a slap in the face and a betrayal of my trust. Shame on you, Burger King.

I encourage all Americans to abandon all subsequent trips to Burger King in protest of this grievance. Americans deserve better than this.

If you need me, I'll be at Wendy's.