If you consume enough sugar,
the World will end,
I promise,
I promise.
You need to eat the candy
before it eats you,
I promise,
I promise.
You will be haunted forever
by every chocolate bar
you don’t immolate
with the fire of your indomitable
inner self.
This is the day when the Veil between this world,
and Candyland
is thin;
soon, the puny species of Mankind
shall be in peril,
as the mighty species of Gingerbreadmankind
paces restlessly onto our very streets.
invoke them!
invoke them!
sodium cyclamate,
calcium cyclamate,
and dread,
unspeakable
Aspartame.
In ancient times,
in order to get this much sweetness
into your mouth
at once,
you’d need to steal a honeycomb,
and the Bees would never forgive you.
(If you think that’s a myth, consider:
Have the Bees ever said a single civil word to you, ever?
Nope.
They haven’t forgiven,
and they haven’t forgotten.)
the ominous susurrus
of sucrose sirens
spills simple syrup
subcuteanously;
it really gets under your skin.
IT’S TOO MUCH SUGAR DAY.
IT’S TOO MUCH SUGAR DAY.
It is the Sweetpocalypse.
It is the Steviaclysm.
It is the tolling of the Erythritolic bells of Doom.
yes,
yes,
yes,
technically,
technically,
indeed,
I want you all
to be sweeter than pie,
because I intend for you all to be
magically delicious
for the
Things
that will come out of the Sea,
angered,
hungered,
made primarily
of eldritch horror,
and thousands of
gnashing
sweet-tooths.
But hey,
being Dessert
is somewhat better,
by a good fifteen minutes,
than what will happen to everyone else,
for surely,
surely,
they are Lunch.
