I couldn't burn the letter, as it didn't let me have matches in my pocket:
Set the leaflet on fire with a match from my pocket. "Burn after reading"
You decide that the leaflet's secrets must remain hidden and try to set it aflame with a match from your pocket.
You search your pockets for a match to burn the leaflet, but alas, you find nothing of the sort. It seems you'll need to find another way if you wish to dispose of the evidence.
Shred the leaflet and slowly eat the pieces.
Intent on secrecy, you tear the leaflet into tiny pieces, preparing to consume them one by one.
You attempt to rip apart the leaflet, but the act baffles you—this stubborn paper refuses to tear, as if protected by some strange magic. The leaflet remains whole, defiantly intact in your hands.
put the leaflet back in the mailbox. Shake your fist to the sky and curse the rigidity of this universe.
Unable to destroy the leaflet, you decide to return it to the mailbox.
With a dramatic glare, you raise your fist to the heavens, venting your frustration at this world's strange laws. The birds and trees ignore your plight, and the universe remains as unyielding as ever.
No matter how passionately you try to shake your fist at the sky, the very concept escapes you. The universe itself seems to smirk at your futile rebellion.
