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Mayo is a little traumatizing. I've since grown out of my aversion, but when I was a child, my sister had a bad case of lice that could only be solved with mayo. Since then, I have never seen it the same way again. Globby, white, and disgustingly eggy, mayo is easily the most foul condiment in the fridge when left to its own devices. Now, as an adult, I can appreciate mayo in moderation, but if left to its own devices, the haunting image of the mayonnaise melting on my sister's scalp pops back up in my memory.
I've got the heebie jeebies just thinking about it.
This roommate gave his ex-friend a similar kind of traumatic mayonnaise experience, except as a punishment for breaking a roomie's cardinal rule: Don't steal food that isn't yours. Rightfully earned, this roommate's mayo memory is about to be a vivid reminder of his long-standing thievery of a buddy's milk, since he spent months stealing increments of milk. We can see the levels going down, sir. There's no hiding your sins this time—it's the mayo for you, then!
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