A Scenerio

Why This Horrid Goodie Should DIE


you are a child. you are trick-o-treating at grandma's, dressed in your halloween best. your little clown face is smudged from eating a large lollipop. your grandma, in her apron decorated with black kitties, comes from the kitchen where she was bustling around making a tiny treat for you and your baby sibling who sits in her carrier with bunny ears attached to a headband resting on her head. she has whiskers on her cheeks, drawn with mother's eyeliner. grandma walks into the living room with the treat in her hands. the treat is a porcelain bowl, shaped like a pumpkin (painted with a face, of course!).

the bowl contains candy corn.

the brightly colored bowl is placed in the center of the coffee table, next to the baby's pacifier. you investigate the goodie. after contemplating on whether to taste the triangular or the pumpkin shaped treat (they both are the same-candy corn bastards!), you pick up the triangle and squeeze the colorful cone of sugar. you are able to leave little indents on the sides. you sniff the corn. the nose wrinkles in rebellion. after the primary survey, you decide that it would be best to just pop the piece into your mouth and get it over with. hey, it's CANDY. how bad can it be?

you pop.

you start to chew.

the bland taste startles your young mouth!

you wince, and begin to gag. the corn is then spat onto the table, while your mother scolds you for being rude. you are so angered at the deceptive goodie. all bright and colorful. shaped like triangles and pumpkins. you smash your little hand into the bowl. the pumpkin bowl falls onto the carpeted floor, scattering hundreds of corn in every direction. mother makes you clean the mess, all the while, tears of anger roll down your cheeks...smearing your clown face even more.


you arrive at grandma's house, excited that soon there will be a plump juicy turkey before you. your mouth waters. your baby sister drools. grandma, in her apron decorated with pilgrims, walks out of the kitchen, carrying a porcelain bowl in the shape of a cornucopia.

the bowl contains candy corn.

left-over candy corn from halloween.

being a daring young one, you perform a secondary survey. a bit harder to sqeeze, but the same smell. unfortunately, the same taste. but, remembering the lesson you learned prior, you discreetly spit the chewed bland blob of color into the palm of your hand, and hide it in your napkin.

6 months later

grandma's house for the day!! bummer that she is in the middle of spring cleaning. but you occupy yourself. the living room is in shambles! you hide behind the couch to avoid the vacuum cleaner. crouched between the couch and the corner, you spot something peeking out from under. carefully, you reach out, wedging yourself sideways against the wall and material. . .your fingers feel for the object. covered in dust bunnies, you find the hidden treasure that caught your eye only moments before. you dust it off, polish it with your favorite scoobie doo t-shirt and hold it to the light. there, before your very own eyes, is a petrified candy corn. you must have missed that one when tidying up after your irrational halloween episode.

you squeeze the corn.

hard as a rock!

you sniff the corn.

aaaaaaahh-choooooo! dust. but no scent.

you contemplate your next move. you ponder the chances.

7 months ago, the treat landed here. the treat is now as hard as steel. the treat has no sickening odor to make you wince. it must be ok!

you pop.

you gag.

you hate life and it's crude deceptions.

damn corn tastes JUST like it did before.
you curse it's creator.