Have you ever known someone who was just terribly bitter about everything? How about a cookie that was bitter about everything? I’ve known several of the former, but only one of the latter. As soon as I opened this package of Bitter Cocoa Biscuits, I knew this was going to be an interesting day.
“Yep. Here we go. I knew it.” said a voice from inside the box. I was so startled that I dropped the package on the floor. “Oh, yeah. Just keep making it worse, why don’t you?” the voice continued.
“Well, uh,” I started, but the voice inside the box of cookies didn’t let me say any more.
“I get ground up into a powder, baked into a cookie, smashed on top of some highly opinionated creme filling, wrapped up in some suffocating plastic, crammed into a box, and shipped halfway around the world on a leaky boat, then you don’t even have the decency to keep from throwing me on the ground?!”
“But, I didn’t know…” I stammered
“You didn’t know?! He didn’t know. Did you hear that? He didn’t know.”
“I mean, you’re a cookie…”
“Oh!” exclaimed the voice from inside the box. “Oh yeah! Play the cookie card! It’s just fine to do those things to cookies, right? Because we’re so inferior!”
“No, no!” I insisted. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just didn’t think cookies had any feelings, so I…”
“No feelings!” the voice roared (at least as much as a voice inside a box of cookies can roar). “And you wonder why I’m bitter?!”
“But, I didn’t know cookies were…alive.”
A scream of rage emanated from the box, and I dropped it again.
“I think I should just stop talking now,” I said.
“Yeah, you should do that,” said the voice from inside the box.
I can’t really tell you about the Bitter Cocoa Biscuits, since now I’m too afraid to go back into the kitchen. Sorry.