Monday, March 20, 2006

Vendetta

My Family Crest Yesterday, I felt the need to slay my hunger. What was my chosen death-dealing device? Yellow Dye #5 of course. Unfortunately, any and all snack foods are contained within our Fortress' barely-functioning vending machine. It won't accept my finance (in either paper or coin form), purchased goods get lodged in between the spiraling harnesses and some of the rations have no doubt long surpassed their expiration dates. The Sphinxter brand cupcakes, for example, display a Sphynxface on its wrapping most noticeably still possessing its schnoz.

If spite could manifest itself in physical form, it would no doubt resemble our confection-spitting abomination. I mean, really, what is more devious than the idea of a non-functioning vending machine?
Products high in sodium
Su-Mortal Enemy

I will share with you my typical experience in dialogic form.
Hello! Here are some tasty things housed in my plexiglas belly. Gaze upon them! But, despite the fact that you possess the necessary prerequisites (i.e. tender, desire and motor-function), I will not dispense these pleasures to you. I mock your unhealthy dietary choices.

Actually, now that I think about it, perhaps it is doing me a service. No matter! I will not be scorned by an inanimate object unless, of course, that object happens to be the Fortress' VCR's clock. I decided to vindicate the imprisoned treats with heavy munitions. Unfortunately, our lair suffered appreciable splash damage.
Coin Return
Dy-No-Mite!

The Sphynxter cakes survived, however. At the very least, I now know what will be sustaining the cockroaches and Joan Rivers when your inevitable apocalypse takes place.
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