¡Mi estómago!

There's this new guy at the office, we'll call him Bill. He doesn't say much... actually he doesn't say anything. At least I haven't heard any words come out of his mouth. What I do hear is the pop and hiss of him opening cans of Diet Coke. Five cans of DC every day, to be exact. Just thinking about it gives me acid reflux. I want to tell him about my friend's sister who died from an ulcer caused by Diet Coke... For shiz! It ate a hole right through her stomach and caused internal bleeding, which somehow caused toxemia. After hearing that story, I've sworn off Diet Coke FOR-EV-ER. I want to tell Bill this story, because even though I do not know him, I don't want to see another life lost to the tragic side effects of Diet Coke. I imagine the conversation would go something like this:

"Hey Bill, you don't know me, but I sit 2 cubes down from you. I noticed you drink a lot of Diet Coke. I'd like to tell you a story about how my friend's sister had a bad Diet Coke addiction and she died from it because it ate a hole right through her stomach. Do you want to die, Bill? No, I didn't think so. Help me help you, Bill. Put down the can and step away from the Diet Coke."

Or maybe I should have Aaron talk to Bill about it. Aaron has a way of talking about things you wish he'd never bring up again.