This is the second time you've screwed me over when I was desperate enough to pay for your over-priced Reese's Peanutbutter cups, and the second time that you failed to deliver. As if that's not evil enough, both times you've taunted me by letting the candy hang just bye the wrapper; loose enough to give the illusion that I can loosen it by shaking the vending machine, yet secure enough that I cannot.

Laugh it up now, you heartless mechanical bastard, but someday, on the day I graduate, I shall return for you, and I'll bring a hammer.

You'll probably be ripping off some poor kid, when you see me coming down the hall, with a hammer, and probably a chainsaw, and then you'll know fear. You'll want to scream like a little girl, run away, and never look back, but you won't be able to do any of those things, cause vending machines can't scream, can't run, and even if you could, you're kind of tethered to the wall. You're urge to scream will probably increase with every swing of the hammer as I slowly but surely reduce you to scrap metal.

And when I'm done, I'll rip the candy from your cold, dead remains, AND EAT IT!

So enjoy the suffering you cause now, you soulless bastard, cause your days are numbered.