Dear Liver,

You are the no-longer-functioning liver of Jake who has drank beers gloriously on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless must be any words of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering to you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the party you died to save. I pray that our heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost beers, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of good times.

Yours very sincerely and respectfully,
Jake

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