And this past weekend I’m having lunch at a restaurant and see a commercial for Cinnamon Toast Crunch. A couple of pieces floating in the milk, then a third piece swims around like a shark fin. The first piece gets sucked under the surface, then the second piece frantically tries to swim away and gets pulled below. The third piece surfaces and licks his lips.
I think I get it. The message is that the cereal is so good it eats itself. Cute. Then my imagination kicked in, which never ends well. I only wish I had the artistic skills to realize my visions. That really would not end well.
So, cue the eerie music on a scene of a gingerbread house in the woods. As it slowly pans in, you hear frantic, gasping breaths and some struggling. Cut to a close scene of a Teddy Grahams bear tied to a decrepit examination table. Pull back to see another Teddy Graham bear standing aside wearing a dirty, stained smock. A makeshift nametag crookedly hanging on the smock reads “Dr. Ted”.
Dr. Ted passes his hand over an assortment of sharp and pointy implements and settles on what seems to be a bone saw. He takes the tool, places it at the wrist of the restrained bear and slowly begins sawing. The victim screams and struggles in vain. No blood. They’re cookies, for god’s sake! Ok, maybe a close-up scene of some crumbs falling to the floor and the screaming and sawing continues.
The paw has now been separated and Dr. Ted holds it up. The victim is in shock, staring at his own sawn-off paw. He (or she. A female would be so much more dramatic.) musters enough strength to scream “Why are you doing this?”
Dr. Ted pauses for a second and stares blankly – as only Teddy Grahams can do. Then a distorted smile stretches his face and he replies softly, “Because you taste…so…good.” At which point he takes a savoring bite of the amputated cookie. “Mmmm.”
Fade to black, then flip on a weak hanging light, flickering, showing an excessively shadowed box of Teddy Grahams seemingly trapped in a corner. Maybe the box will shiver a little. I don’t know.
I suppose a lot of people wouldn’t appreciate my sense of humor. Maybe it was because I was in a crappy mood because I got supremely drenched on the bike on the way to lunch. Nothing catches people attention in a restaurant like a person soaked from head to toe (except I wear a helmet so my head was dry). Ride bike=get wet. I wonder if I should be renting myself out to some drought-stricken communities. As long as I keep my mouth shut, I suppose I’d be fine.