Damn you, Troll

A while ago, while on the phone with Troll (You know Troll. You met him back here.) and he started singing The Chicken Dance while searching for something. I said, "Oh Great! Now I have The Chicken Dance in my head." He laughed maniacally, as he is wont to do. From that point on, at the end of every email, he would write, "PS. Chicken Dance," or "na na na na na na na." The effect had worn thin, and I told him so. He eventually stopped the reference.

Today, I received a package from Troll's store through interoffice mail. This is what it was:

Bastard!