Dear “Uncle Sams”,

I’d firstly like to point out that the lack of an apostrophe in your name is utterly infuriating. But swiftly on to the meat of this letter (no burger-related pun intended): I am writing to complain about the appalling service and terrible food to be found at your establishment.

Strolling along, I felt a familiar pang of hunger writhing in my gut. To remedy this, as any sane person would, I decided I should eat. Conveniently, there was a burger bar nearby, going by the name of “Uncle Sams”. Deciding to give it a try despite the aforementioned atrocity regarding apostrophes, I entered the store and came face-to-face with an ugly, wretched creature who asked me what my business was in sullen tones.

I requested a hamburger meal – the main service provided by your establishment, I have been led to believe. The lugubrious female who was serving me asked me what drink I would like, as if my failure to state it in the order was a heinous crime. Ignoring her lack of respect for the customer from which she was to derive whatever pathetic sum of money she was due to earn, I asked for a Coke. Giving me a final, grumpy look of loathing, she strutted off to fetch my food, after extracting my money from me.

I escaped from the building without being physically assaulted by this youth of demonic demeanour, and proceeded to sit down and eat my food. Taking the burger from the bag, I immediately realised I had made a mistake in entrusting my money to the girl. The burger, dripping as it was with peculiarly-coloured sauces and age-old vegetables, was an utter mess; a culinary catastrophe.

Gathering my wits, I bit into the burger. I was to regret this a few moments later, as dead cow flesh and stale bread began to slip around my mouth. I swallowed it with disgust, slurping the drink to clear its horrible taste. At least the drink wasn’t awful; I would be incredibly surprised if they had managed to mess that up, though.

Seeing as it was all I had to eat for lunch, I delved once more into the brown paper bag and took out some chips. I ate half of them, as they were of reasonable quality… Then again, my taste-buds had probably been heavily desensitised by the satanic burger I had just consumed.

So, Uncle Sam (if I may call you that), I have discovered that not only are you illiterate, but you are also incapable of assembling a hamburger. Never again will I return to your dismal restaurant, and I shall advise others to follow my course of action.