the WAREHOUSE

Hey guys, Rex send me another email. Man that guy gets around.

Hey dorkbot, it's me, Rex. Now don't go all misty eyed because I'm just writing to gloat. A few weeks ago I got this coupon thing in the mail, right? And what is it but a freaking great deal on a huge pile of stuff from Omaha Steaks.

I mean, check out this list of stuff they want to send me. ME! I mean, I know I'm awesome and such but all that for only $50? Heck yeah. Count me in.

So I fill it out, give 'em my credit card number, all that good stuff. Now just one more thing to do before I mail it out

Stamp here! Stamp! Get it? Get it? Because I'm a dinosaur...and I stomp around a l- okay, look, leave me alone.

2 weeks later aaugugughhhhh where is my meat? Wherrrrre issss iittttt. I neeeed i-...oh there it is!

Sweet! This box is huge! You could probably fit, like, 300 of me in there. Which is saying a lot because I'm huge! No time to bother opening it like a prissy brit from the 20s. RAR!

Boxes and boxes and boxes of meat!
It's really really really neat!
Boxes and boxes and boxes of meat!
Eating it all will be a feat!

Look at this. Just you look at it. Drooling? You should be. The variety is incredible. I can't wait to eat each and every thing they sent me. It's a good day for a carnivorous dinosaur. Rex, you old chap, Omaha Steaks did pretty well by you.