The eclipse of the mind and the heart that occurs when one comes across Extra Long Twizzlers for the first time.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Inner Child: OOOH, look at those!
Person Wearing Ball and Chain of Reality: Good grief, these.
IC: They’re as long as I am tall!
PWBCR: On the big list of Things I Need, I’m pretty sure “three pounds of extra long Twizzlers” doesn’t rank.
IC: I could tie them all together and throw them out the window and climb down and run away from home!
PWBCR: A package of strawberry licorice whose width occupies an entire shelf? Hats off to you, America.
IC: And once I’m on the ground, I’ll tug the whole thing down and attach a grappling hook to the end.
PWBCR: So how about some fucking fruits and vegetables?
IC: And I’ll shoot bad guys, pew pew pew!
PWBCR: Whatever, my prescription’s ready.
IC: Grab this rope and waterski behind the Kawasaki Om-Nom-Nom-a-tron 3000, where we’ll show you the best gingerbread mansions ever, the most drawn-out Lady and the Tramp reenactment ever, the most delicious hair extensions ever, and so much more!
PWBCR: Shut up dude the pharmacist thinks you’re weird.
IC: CAN I SIGN THE CREDIT CARD MACHINE?
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