I’ll do it, Chicago has terrible taste in food. Deep dish is preposterous, Malort is an abomination, and despite how you feel about ketchup, relish should not look like the ooze that creates ninja turtles.

Sure, I’ll just quit my job and travel the 4500 km to Washington DC, then I will stand outside and yell across the lawn to him that “I demand satisfaction!”, and when he walks down to the fence to talk to me I’ll challenge hin to a duel.

You can just jam a ballpoint pen through most zippers then zip back over it to reclose leaving the lock undisturbed.