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Cheer up champ! You've just won a massive key!
Seriously, how the hell do they expect me to react? I spent all that time researching at the local archives to find out in which city the 1997 film Notting Hill is set; and then spending all that time and money on going into the big city library to find out for final there... spending all that money for the bus, looking at little Jethro's face as he caught me in the dead of night stealing from his Bulbasaur piggy bank... ... *sigh* ... and after all that, locking myself away in that log cabin I'd spent all that money and time on building... looking at little Jethro's face as he somehow caught me in the middle of the day stealing from his savings account which is technically my property anyway until he's 18... ... locking myself in that log cabin to gain inspiration to come up with the 150 masterful words I combined and submitted for the tiebreaker question. Ah. The question they asked me was nothing compared to the questions I had to ask myself... why do I love Kellogg's Ricicles? What even IS love? How can we truly be aware of how we feel? Is what we believe to be our identity, this mish-mash of neuroses and passions and foibles even inherent to us? Is it natural? Or is it just a construction of society, built up by endless advertisements and ideologically-loaded messages?
All that time. All that dedication.
ALL that TIME! That DEDICATION!!!
ALL THAT CHUFFING TIME!!!!! ALL THAT CRINKLY DEDICATION!!!!!
Never in my life have I seen a door with a lock this big.
And I don't want to imagine little Jethro's face when I tell him I'll have to store this behemoth in half of his bedroom.
The lad'll be livid he will.
Everything's been going downhill since ever I bought those Ricicles. Rice Krispies were enough once upon a time... but I couldn't stop. I just wanted bigger, frostier morning thrills.
A POX UPON MY DREAD HUBRIS, MAY I FIND SOLACE IN THE HOPE THAT LITTLE JETHRO CAN LEARN FROM THIS PROMETHEAN TALE
And may, one day, he learn to forgive me.
Though I would not blame him.
I would... not... blame him.
big fan though
everyone's a winner.
What kind of person have I become? What the HECK kind of person was I to begin with? Being called into the Kellogg's HQ... being called up to the office of Kelley Ogg, himself... it's making me clam up like an idiot shrew just mulling it over.
And it WAS scary...
But, oh God... how could I let the threat of losing my job as Head of Ricicles Marketing drive me to this... this promotion... giving away as a feeble prize this! My most valuable of items!
What would old Gerbin think of me... I can't picture his reaction... I only see his face when, in the trenches, we were being all covert and stealthy, hiding from the Viet Cong, he showed me the thing that had been passed down in his family for generations. That massive key. He showed it to me, and in doing so, alerted a Viet Cong sniper who shot him right in the face and he died. And I can hear now, his last words spluttered out like a crap hoover... "take it, pass it on to your son... because mine is just such an absolute... *cough* ball bag". There were tears running down my face in that moment.
Thing is... I know he'd forgive me for it, really. 'S the kind of guy he was.
But I can never forgive... myself