(Written from the character Cheeter McGriddle)

I like to think of myself as a nice guy. People say I'm a nice guy. My parole officer says I'm a great guy. But when something like what happened on Tuesday happens, I feel like my niceness is being taken advantage of. I feel like, you know what, maybe I just won't throw these coke parties anymore. How would you guys like that? Do your coke somewhere else, assholes.

My wife would flip if she ever knew there was crack in our house!I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Not all of you deserve that. I'm sure you thought when you got this letter from me that it would be a nice, friendly letter; perhaps an invitation to another "Snow Ball." So I might be going down the wrong path by swearing at you and threatening your dog's life. So I won't. I won't threaten to come into your house and give your dog a treat…covered with poison. But it's human poison, not dog poison, so it just gets really sick and never quite recovers. I'm not gonna make that threat, though.

Let me explain to you guys what happened. I welcomed you all to my house. We were doing lines off every countertop, every surface imaginable throughout my house, just having a ball, a blast. Then I smelled something. It was faint, but distinguishable from most other smells. I went into my basement and as walked down the stairs, I yelled, "What the FUCK?!" Then I heard panicked conversation from several people and the shattering of glass. When I made it to the basement, there was a broken crack pipe on my floor and everyone had fake innocent looks on their faces and were doing cocaine like nothing happened-like they were just doing cocaine the whole time.

You guys don't get it, do you? Cocaine is a sociable party drug done occasionally as a fun habit. Crack is a hard, addictive drug. I don't want that filth in my house! What am I supposed to tell my kids if they find a loose crack rock laying around the house? What if my 5-month-old kid puts that in his mouth and swallows it? Despicable!

So who was it? Was it you, Bob, you piece of shit? I never should've invited you back to my house after you stole $100 from my daughter's purse. Surely that must've been a crack-fueled robbery. No cokehead would do that kind of thing. That's just wrong. You must've had the intent to go and buy several crack rocks.

Or was it you, Susie? You've made jokes about crack before. No one who doesn't do crack would make jokes about it. Crack is a serious subject, one that only crackheads joke about.

You might be saying to yourself, "Cheeter, it wasn't me. I have a baby at home." Yeah, a crack baby, you bitch. Maybe you failed D.A.R.E. Maybe your dealer started selling crack instead. I don't know the reasons. I just know that I don't tolerate drugs in my home, okay?!?

Listen, I just don't want to fuck my life up with that stuff. My wife would flip if she ever knew there was crack in our house! She would take our kids and leave me, I bet! And that would not be cool.

Having a coke party is fashionable, fun, and brings together the whole neighborhood. A crack party turns the event into a depraved, dark festivity. It brings a whole criminal element and aspect to the night.

How can my kids get their homework done when we're all tweaking out on crack? How can my infant daughter sleep amongst a house full of crackheads? The answer: they can't. So please, I'm begging you guys, coke only next time (if there is a next time…).

So if and when I do have another coke party at my home, when you're doing coke off our family photo album or our Bible, please think of the children; my children. Think of my baby dozing off upstairs, my daughter having her period or whatever in her room, and my son playing catch with himself. Hopefully that's enough to stop you from lighting up that crack pipe. And if not, shame on you. Because I laid down some clear ground rules for my coke party. Number 1 was "Have Fun." Number 7 was "NO DRUGS!" So you can see that NO DRUGS was almost more important than Have Fun, since it was in all caps, even though it was lower on the list.

Sincerely,

Cheeter McGriddle

P.S. You are all invited to my coke party tonight. Dress casual or whatever. BYOC (Bring Your Own Cocaine). I'm also offering a reward to whoever tells me who was doing crack at the last party. The reward is three small crack rocks I found on the floor.

See new PIC posts via Twitter, Facebook, or email.

Sign up for comedy writing or stand-up classes at The Second City - 10% off with code PIC.