My Apologies From the Peanut Gallery
"My
apologies from the peanut gallery," the monocled Planters'
character whispered to me slyly. I was shifting a bag of trail mix
in my effeminate hands, trying to determine if the peanut to
chocolate ratio was suitable to my arbitrary whim of the moment. "But
chocolate is really, really bad for you. It's loaded with sugar, a
sort of indirect tax on your youth."
Indirect tax? I wondered. Chocolate?
He elaborated, as if knowing that I had more questions about his perplexing statement: "Sugar has a delayed effect, so as to deceive you into believing you can eat more without expanding your waistline. Expanding one's waistline leads to buying more pants, which means less money to be spent on facial creams that could otherwise preserve your youth. I, on the other hand, get straight to the point by providing you with the fats you need to know, quick and early, just how much of a gluttonous pig you truly are."
I looked over the aisles filled with candy, chips, prepackaged donuts, smut magazines, canned goods and microwavable noodles to see if anyone was within earshot. Satisfied that nobody could hear me, I engaged the monocled icon since I was truly at a loss. What should I do? Should I not eat anything?
After bending down to whisper to him, he cut me off before I started to ask.
"Shhh! Don't be so loud. We don't want anyone here to think you're nuts."
Indirect tax? I wondered. Chocolate?
He elaborated, as if knowing that I had more questions about his perplexing statement: "Sugar has a delayed effect, so as to deceive you into believing you can eat more without expanding your waistline. Expanding one's waistline leads to buying more pants, which means less money to be spent on facial creams that could otherwise preserve your youth. I, on the other hand, get straight to the point by providing you with the fats you need to know, quick and early, just how much of a gluttonous pig you truly are."
I looked over the aisles filled with candy, chips, prepackaged donuts, smut magazines, canned goods and microwavable noodles to see if anyone was within earshot. Satisfied that nobody could hear me, I engaged the monocled icon since I was truly at a loss. What should I do? Should I not eat anything?
After bending down to whisper to him, he cut me off before I started to ask.
"Shhh! Don't be so loud. We don't want anyone here to think you're nuts."
"But
are you saying I shouldn't eat anything?" I whispered aloud.
"You called me a gluttonous pig."
"Pigs will eat anything, that's why they are fed slop. You're very much like them since you're apparently just dandy with putting sugar into your body. Really, I and my brethren here are the superior choice to the trail mix. Less sugar, less gluttony. Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins you know. Say, you aren't one of them, are you? You know that since September 11th happened we have to keep a lookout for atheists and Muslims. You're not one of the Muslims who run this place, are you?"
I glanced up at the man behind the counter at the front of the store. He frowned at me.
Frantically ducking down again to clarify things, in case the clerk (who inconveniently was wearing a turban) had overheard us, I said, perhaps a bit too loudly, "I don't think he's Muslim."
The monocled peanut didn't respond, but I noticed the clerk was still frowning at me.
"Pigs will eat anything, that's why they are fed slop. You're very much like them since you're apparently just dandy with putting sugar into your body. Really, I and my brethren here are the superior choice to the trail mix. Less sugar, less gluttony. Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins you know. Say, you aren't one of them, are you? You know that since September 11th happened we have to keep a lookout for atheists and Muslims. You're not one of the Muslims who run this place, are you?"
I glanced up at the man behind the counter at the front of the store. He frowned at me.
Frantically ducking down again to clarify things, in case the clerk (who inconveniently was wearing a turban) had overheard us, I said, perhaps a bit too loudly, "I don't think he's Muslim."
The monocled peanut didn't respond, but I noticed the clerk was still frowning at me.
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