| Okay. So I wrote this paper for Advanced Writing, and I really like it. Our assignment was to take an object, look at it, and write it down, and I really like how this turned out. So I'm sharing it with the world.
The formatting is a bit off, but that what happens when you copy from Word to the Xanga post window. Grr.
The Death Plastic
Wal-Mart is
trying to poison the world. That’s the
only explanation I can think of for the existence of Equate breath strips. Thin bits of plastic that dissolve upon
contact with human saliva cannot be the creations of an altruistic mind. Not only do they taste like some mad
scientist managed to fuse mint and pond scum, they have approximately the same
texture. The box calls it a “clean mint”
flavor. To those who write box blurbs, I
say HAH! HAH, I say again! It is the furthest thing from clean that I
can think of! If this is a “clean”
flavor, then we don’t have to worry about disinfecting New Orleans, where the floodwaters taste
exactly like this.
Not only are the
contents far past the point where “breath-freshening” becomes “run to the
nearest sink to wash the taste out,” the container itself holds sort of a
menacing air. The delta-shaped lid opens
up like the door to a DeLorean, beckoning you to sample the poisonous delights
harbored within. The rectangular pillbox
shape is marred by a 45o angle, turning the top of the box into a
menacing wedge. The overall effect is
like an enemy ship as seen on a low-budget sci-fi show. The effect is compounded by the plastic
fastenings holding the two halves together along the sides, giving the
impression of four long, skinny windows.
Maybe it’s a troop transport from Dr. Who?
Upon closer
examination of the inside of this insidious war machine, the words “Vi-Lon
Laboratories” become apparent. Aha! We have discovered the name of the terrible
alien race that threatens to destroy humanity via its poisonous
breath-freshening tools. Perhaps they
are in league with the evil Altoids, threatening humanity with their curious
strength since time immemorial.
When one reads
the warning labels on the back of this Vi-Lon fighter craft, the sinister
intent becomes even more apparent. This
stuff will kill certain kinds of people!
Admittedly, they’re phenylketonurics who have to avoid phenylalanine,
but still! I’m telling you, it’s
poisonous! As well, the warped, curling
strips have the appearance perhaps of a scroll, a scroll of dire warning to all
of humanity—“Do not consume! A fate worse
than death or bad breath awaits you if these strips are consumed!” But of course we silly humans do not heed
such warnings—after all, we think, we are masters of the galaxy. A little bit of edible plastic won’t hurt us,
will it?
Oh, how
wrong we are.
The warning label goes on to say
that the box may be a “choking hazard.”
It’s not just a choking hazard, bub.
It’s a hazard to sanity and safety.
Though the pretty green label with its stylized mint leaf and wavy lines
attempts to give the impression of yummy, minty goodness, the real truth is
revealed by the sight of the malevolently-curled green sheets sheathed within
their plastic casing. No one in their
right mind would attempt to use these strips of devil-candy to freshen their
breath (at which task it is totally incompetent, might I add), but one might
use it at a POW camp to torture Iraqi prisoners into submission. (I can see it now. “No, no!
Not the death plastic! I’ll do
anything you say, just don’t put that stuff on my tongue!”)
As well, the
label carries a serial number. I wonder
if Wal-Mart, the front company for the Vi-Lons, is tracking these things,
keeping track of all the people who consume the death plastic. Probably there’s some kind of secret plot to
take over the world with the mind-control chemicals hidden inside the breath
strip. It’s not like we’d notice any odd
tastes.
It wants me to
believe that “SATISFACTION [is] GUARANTEED BY REFUND OR EXCHANGE.” I’m not satisfied, God knows—I just put
something in my mouth that tasted like a minty-fresh condom! But who actually calls these numbers? Nobody calls these numbers. I would probably be visited by a Vi-Lon ship
in the middle of the night, coming to take me away for figuring out their
dastardly scheme. So I guess I’ll just
leave it alone, an older and wiser man.
But I am never, ever using breath
strips, in case Wal-Mart really is trying to take over my mind.
Hmm. I’m having a sudden urge to go there and
spend a tremendous amount of money. Must
go now.
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