Dear Cherry Coke,

You know I love you, and that I'd sell my own sister for a lifetime supply of you, but I can't help noticing you've changed recently. I mean, you still taste the same--you're delicious, don't let anyone tell you otherwise--you just seem to have an image problem. We hung out together in the 80's when you got swept up in the style of the time. I stood by you in the 90's through your angry years, even though I thought your can looked like the cover to Elie Wiesel's prison camp novel Night. It was a rebellious phase and I understood that. That eventually passed and you found a much more fitting can--your best, if I may say so. You then reconciled the differences in your family, and you grew so close with your brother Coke that I could hardly tell the two of you apart! But now, well, now I don't know what to think. I'm starting to fear you are bipolar. Inside, your can looks like your brothers, but outside... I hardly recognize you! Are you coming out of the closet? I mean, honestly, your box is a little gay. That's probably not very PC to say--after all, who am I to judge if you like a little hot can-on-can action? But really, what's with the new look? You've been hanging out with that harlot Cherry 7-UP, haven't you? I knew that one was going to be a trouble maker.

Listen, you're delicious, and I'll always love you. But, could you consider wrapping yourself up in something... a little less pink? I'm worried about your image. Rumor has it you've been spending some time with Jay-Z, though. Maybe he can take you to Jacob the Jeweler to get fitted for some bling.

Consuming you always,
Kato