I have come up with some new names for your Ultimate Pizza Rolls.
Doughy Pockets of Lava
or how about
Boiling Semen of Satan
Do you hate college students? Is that it? Is this some sort of insane plan to harass and maul lazy chefs?
I just feel you need a new title to properly describe how, at some point during the cooking process, the delicious pepperoni insides turn from pizza-flavored goodness to horrific steaming acid. This is only amplified by your clearly cunning design of forming the pizza pocket to a perfect envelope shape to send the hot interior firing out like a shotgun, burning all in it’s path. In an amazing thirteen minutes, your little frozen treats become General Sherman burning his way to Georgia across my face. And why? All because I’m hungry at two in the morning and too impatient to wait the prerequsite two minutes before eating. But, you can’t seriously be asking me to wait for my food? I’m a goddamned American.
Your Third Degree Burned Customer,
Alternative name for this letter: The Hardships of the American White Middle Class
Alternate Alternate name for this letter: Midnight Snacking Gone Rogue