To: Mr Money Bags
From: Your Loyal Mixer

SUBJECT: my retirement plans

That broad of yours keeps trying to force me into mixing these crazy concoctions that I just ain’t cut out to be mixing! I told her my motor wasn’t strong enough, but she just kept saying, “Mmm… this rum is tasty. Mix faster, slave!” Simply put, the rum cake was the last stand.

My motors won’t turn on any more, they just make funny whirring sounds and then I start smelling funny. It’s embarrassing.

I’d like to put in my notice of retirement. I’ve lead a good life, I think I’ve served you well in the past, but I can’t meet your demands anymore and frankly I don’t really like working with that lady of yours. I hope the rum cake tastes good, I tried my best.

I saw a foxy looking kitchenaid on Amazon the other day. I think you know the one. She says she’s got one of those fancy high powered motors and LOVES to make rum cakes all night long. Seems like a good match to me, if you know what I mean.

In best regards,
Mixy the Not so Mixingish Mixer