BUTTERFINGER® Bar Insurance

As I walked into the kitchen, I heard a noise. A door had slammed. The kitchen had been ransacked, every draw was askew and the cabinets were ajar. My eyes shot direly to my stash. It was gone! I ran to the small cabinet above the fridge and started feeling around for any chance that the thief had missed some of it, but alas. It was gone. My miniatures. All of them. Everything else was left in this disheveled room, but someone had laid a finger of my Butterfinger. While I never found any conclusive evidence, my current suspicions lead me to a certain young man, my own brother!