Not as bad as it sounds
This story starts with fudge and ends with a frog guts.
My tale begins as I am sitting at home, peacefully perusing the vast sea of vastness that is the internet (I recently discovered Penny Arcade...and while I do not understand about seventy percent of it, the remaining 30 percent is amusing). Then lo! The strike of hunger! And not just any hunger, but the very specific, demanding hunger that requires CHOCOLATE, STAT. Thus did I rouse myself from my computer chair and go on the hunt. What did I find? Nothing! Nothing in the pantry, nothing in the cupboards, nothing sitting conveniently out on the counter. Woe! Despair! As a last ditch effort, I looked in the final possible hiding spot - the refrigerator. Oh, my crafty, crafty roommate, hiding food in that frigid atmosphere. Lo and behold, hidden under a stack of really icky kraft american 'cheese' did I find...the last remaining bite of chocolate mint fudge! My *roommate's* mint fudge.
Alas, no, I could not devour all that remained of her carefully saved, lovingly cherished...it was delicious. Curse you, oh my morally ambiguous love of chocolate!
So, consumed by guilt (and still kind of craving chocolate. It was only a bite), I took myself off to the nearest Save Mart to rectify the painful lack of fudge that was like a gaping void in the soul. Ever had a gaping void in your soul? Not pleasant. Therefore, Hi-ho Prius, away!
After braving the dangers of small back roads and the crazed monsters that roam them (including that most foul and gratuitous of beasts - the stretch SUV limo), I arrived at last at the food mecca of my quest. Getting through the enchanted sliding gates was a snap (not even a decent dour door warden. Even the Mart of Wal has dour door wardens). Getting back out again...well, long story slightly less long, I achieved my quest of chocolate. I also completed a few side quests, such as the Finding of the Rasberry and the Subduing of the Wheat Thins. Loaded with loot, I fought my way bravely through long lines of glassy-eyed consumer zombies, past rows of brightly colored, vicious People magazines, and paid credit. Through the doors again, free at last, into the damp night air. I was out, I was in possession of multiple goodies, and I was home free!
Then, disaster.
As I made my way across the insidious blacktop in the parking lot, I was attacked by one of the worst monsters on the roads: the Cell-phonus Driverus. As the evil, fume-snorting black truck bore down on me, the driver's face lit by a hellish electronic glow, I leaped to the side of the road. Thick, heavy mud coated most of the parking lot, especially around the tiny, stunted Trees of Indifference that are always planted randomly in grocery store parking lots, as if the stores are attempting to convince everyone that they are shopping in a very small Forest of Great Savings or something. It was into one of these desperate little plots of rank mud that I leaped to save myself from Cell-phonus Driverus, and with a whoop of surprise and dismay, I felt my feet slide right out from under me.
Thus did I plant my entire back side, from my shoulders down to my tender wobbly bits, directly into the three inch deep, freezing-arse-cold mud.
But I never dropped my shopping bags. The chocolate was safe! Take that, Universe!
Climbing hastily to my feet, made it the remaining few feet to my valiant steed, Engelbert the Green Prius, with no further injury save to my dignity, and what is dignity to the triumph of chocolate? I found a handy towel in my backseat, once again proving that there's nothing in life you cannot handle so long as you have your towel. Thank you, Douglas Adams, for your gifts.
It wasn't until I returned safely to my Castle of Power that I discovered the squished frog on my left shoe.
At least I have chocolate.
My tale begins as I am sitting at home, peacefully perusing the vast sea of vastness that is the internet (I recently discovered Penny Arcade...and while I do not understand about seventy percent of it, the remaining 30 percent is amusing). Then lo! The strike of hunger! And not just any hunger, but the very specific, demanding hunger that requires CHOCOLATE, STAT. Thus did I rouse myself from my computer chair and go on the hunt. What did I find? Nothing! Nothing in the pantry, nothing in the cupboards, nothing sitting conveniently out on the counter. Woe! Despair! As a last ditch effort, I looked in the final possible hiding spot - the refrigerator. Oh, my crafty, crafty roommate, hiding food in that frigid atmosphere. Lo and behold, hidden under a stack of really icky kraft american 'cheese' did I find...the last remaining bite of chocolate mint fudge! My *roommate's* mint fudge.
Alas, no, I could not devour all that remained of her carefully saved, lovingly cherished...it was delicious. Curse you, oh my morally ambiguous love of chocolate!
So, consumed by guilt (and still kind of craving chocolate. It was only a bite), I took myself off to the nearest Save Mart to rectify the painful lack of fudge that was like a gaping void in the soul. Ever had a gaping void in your soul? Not pleasant. Therefore, Hi-ho Prius, away!
After braving the dangers of small back roads and the crazed monsters that roam them (including that most foul and gratuitous of beasts - the stretch SUV limo), I arrived at last at the food mecca of my quest. Getting through the enchanted sliding gates was a snap (not even a decent dour door warden. Even the Mart of Wal has dour door wardens). Getting back out again...well, long story slightly less long, I achieved my quest of chocolate. I also completed a few side quests, such as the Finding of the Rasberry and the Subduing of the Wheat Thins. Loaded with loot, I fought my way bravely through long lines of glassy-eyed consumer zombies, past rows of brightly colored, vicious People magazines, and paid credit. Through the doors again, free at last, into the damp night air. I was out, I was in possession of multiple goodies, and I was home free!
Then, disaster.
As I made my way across the insidious blacktop in the parking lot, I was attacked by one of the worst monsters on the roads: the Cell-phonus Driverus. As the evil, fume-snorting black truck bore down on me, the driver's face lit by a hellish electronic glow, I leaped to the side of the road. Thick, heavy mud coated most of the parking lot, especially around the tiny, stunted Trees of Indifference that are always planted randomly in grocery store parking lots, as if the stores are attempting to convince everyone that they are shopping in a very small Forest of Great Savings or something. It was into one of these desperate little plots of rank mud that I leaped to save myself from Cell-phonus Driverus, and with a whoop of surprise and dismay, I felt my feet slide right out from under me.
Thus did I plant my entire back side, from my shoulders down to my tender wobbly bits, directly into the three inch deep, freezing-arse-cold mud.
But I never dropped my shopping bags. The chocolate was safe! Take that, Universe!
Climbing hastily to my feet, made it the remaining few feet to my valiant steed, Engelbert the Green Prius, with no further injury save to my dignity, and what is dignity to the triumph of chocolate? I found a handy towel in my backseat, once again proving that there's nothing in life you cannot handle so long as you have your towel. Thank you, Douglas Adams, for your gifts.
It wasn't until I returned safely to my Castle of Power that I discovered the squished frog on my left shoe.
At least I have chocolate.