The Tell-tale napkin.

TRUE! nervous, very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but why WILL you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily, how calmly, I can tell you the whole story.

(Insert rest of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart" here. I have taken the liberty of altering the ending a little bit, though.)

"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! -- tear up the planks! -- here, here! -- it is the beating of his hideous NAPKIN!"

OK, so I'm officially gonna mail the damn thing back tomorrow!! HARK! The beating! The BEATING!