Your racy, atheistic chocolate shop is an affront to both Church and citizenry, and I will call on the mighty powers of Heaven to have you closed down and run out of town like a mongrel she-dog. In the spirit of full disclosure, I will let you know that I am impotent. I think I have what you need. You have used your position and the Church to oppress us for too long. We will no longer abide your officious jaw-wagging.
Chocolate equals good.
My husband beat me senseless for years, Mister Mayor, rendering me a schizophrenic kleptomaniac who could barely dress herself. But Vianne's chocolate has made me healthy and sexy and powerful. Yes, and my besotted husband and I had not shared the conjugal bed since the Mesozoic era. But this spicy, chili-laced chocolate has turned us into wild, randy jackrabbits. I was a deeply troubled schoolboy who used to sketch horrifying scenes of human carnage and dead animals in my little picturebook.