Call the food police

Pips hates me. I know this, because he grows hot peppers and makes his own hot sauce. I'm a wuss about spice, not in a Dune way, but in an ugly cry at tabasco way. This year-season, my dad, in his passion to end me, is growing ghost peppers. Habaneros. Cayennes. He claims he will get separate cookware. I know he will find a way to try to make me try this unholy poison. Look at this evil ghost pepper's flower buds! Each bud is plotting violence! Please send help D: