Love, Mini-Bar

If I were a mini-bar fridge, I would give warnings. I would say things like...
"Listen, the very fact that you browsed the price list and you're still reaching in here shows that your reasoning skills have been compromised... let's just back up a second..."

I would then attempt to induce some reasoning skills through "common ground" and "flattery" with something along the lines of, "you know, you picked this hotel for a reason.. It puts you in a category of other savvy travelers just like you..." and in case that wasn't obvious enough... "the kind of savvy travelers who don't make decisions like deciding to dip into the mini bar..."

If even all of this failed, I would at least try and reassure them with something like this, "I get it. It was getting late. It didn't seem like that exorbitant of a price when you factor in the convenience of being able to walk a mere one and a half meters to gain access. It could happen to anyone. But let this be a lesson, friend. People like you stay here. People who don't eat out of the mini bar... and that's why this chocolate bar has been in here for seventeen years. That's why this chocolate bar has absorbed every odor and nuance of this mini-fridge for the last seventeen years. Because no one else has failed like you. And you can't take it back. And you can't not finish it. What are you gonna do? Pay $2.25 for one bite?"

Love,
Mini-Bar