Dear Valued Customer,

Thank you so much for your questions, colorful comments, and suggestions for our bankruptcy regarding your latest purchase from Edible Arrangements. We are so sorry that your Pineapple Celebration® bouquet spent 4 weeks in transit before finally reaching your mother.

Your review indicates that your order from our Delicious Celebration® series was far from delicious and even farther from a celebration. This is best addressed in the section where you wrote, “Instead of making her mother’s day brighter, it made some random fuck of a Sunday in April much worse. Your company policy says you prioritize the health, safety, and happiness of our customers, but you bungled all three of those with this Frankenstein-shitscape of raisins and strawberries.”

Your description matches the album of photos you sent us, aptly titled “Fuck Edible Arrangements >:-(” Indeed, what we see here is not a rainbow cornucopia of fresh fruit, but a hornet’s nest of shriveled blackberries and fungus-ridden apricots. The rotten orange slices that dangle on their plastic spires are indeed much like the shriveled heads of British explorers impaled onto spears in some remote island. Also, it wasn’t gift wrapped.

Our only explanation is that we at Edible Arrangements have struggled to deal with late-arriving orders during the novel coronavirus pandemic—much like the PS-5 and or vaccinations in Georgia. We didn’t foresee America’s insatiable desire to cope with stress by ordering excessive amounts of aesthetically-situated fruit for their at-home celebrations. At one point, a truckload of Eid celebration melon bouquets was accidentally sent to a Baptist christening, setting off a typhoon of complaints that overwhelmed our HR office, which is just me at my parent’s in Rhode Island. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but please consider it a cry for help.

None of this, however, excuses our mistake with your order. Four weeks of sitting in a delivery van driving through Tampa does little to keep a bundle of fruit fresh—in fact, it does a lot to turn it into a harrowing slab of compost. Nor does it help that the truck was so stuffed with purchases that your order was moved to the passenger’s seat and left, on multiple occasions, in the humid vehicle with the windows up like an abused dog. Records show no seat belt was used either.

Needless to say, by the time your order arrived it could no longer be considered “edible” or an “arrangement.” Our internal investigation shows that our driver, Ted, plucked multiple grapes from your arrangement in an attempt to sustain himself during deliveries. You’ll be happy to know that both Ted and our company’s 18-hour workday policy have since been terminated.

For what it’s worth, we did not know that your 94-year-old mother had lost her vision and sense of smell, and was unable to recognize how vile her present had arrived. As a result, we didn’t anticipate that she would then eat the arrangement in whatever state it came in. Clearly, we would advise anyone against consuming the sweaty wrinkled pomes that were nestled into that basket.

Which is why we at Edible Arrangements are sorry for your loss. Much like our Valentine’s Day Cheesecake Platter®, we know Cindy must have been sweet, eclectic, and loved by all. In short, we deeply regret that our fruity decor was the reason for her timeless passing. In long, please review our terms and conditions, which clearly state we are not liable for any accidental deaths that may come from ingesting our products.

By compensation, we are happy to finance your mother’s funeral. We have sent you a consolatory Deepest Sympathies Fruit Flowers® arrangement, which we hope you and your grieving guests will enjoy.

Please expect it within a reasonable 4 to 17 weeks.