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Sunday, May 22, 2005
 So you're stuck in traffic an you're late for the big game an you're bein chased by a buncha nazis an if you don't crash your girlfriend's wedding an stop her from marryin the robot king all the ninjas are gonna laugh at you. Oh no what're you gonna do!If only you had some pie... some inspiration pie. But look up there on top a the sun! It's Spiderman or Mr. Rogers or trusted newsman Walter Cronkite an he's holdin up a pie - a Hostess® Fruit Pie! He tosses it up in the air an it spins all in slow-motion like a wheel or a snowflake or a raindrop fallin on a small poignant immigrant child in a silent film an you catch it in your upraised hand an you bite in straight through the plastic wrapper an the glazed crust into the sweet inside goop an it's yours! It doesn't taste like cherry or lemon or blueberry. It tastes like wisdom. It tastes like revealed pie. Inside the crust an the sugar you taste the ages of the pie down through its piey generations and forefathers back to when the first Fruit Pie was baked by the first Fruit Piemachers, shadowy wizened elves hammering in forges and tinkering with strange magics. You taste the ancient knowledge, the first flash of genius that yielded the breakthrough Fiat crustulum: Let there be pie. And you're off! Runnin over the tops a cars to make the winnin touchdown an punchin out Hitler's brain before it lays a tentacle on your lady friend an the ninja coach gives you the all-star trophy an it's all on accounta pie! An you hold it up in the air an the camera spins all around you an you toss it back to Spiderman or Mr. Rogers or trusted newsman Walter Cronkite who's givin you a thumb's up an the hot pie fillin hits him in the face killing him instantly. The jury is merciless; you receive twenty years to life. Now you spend the rest of your lonely days in a cold cement cell, your only companions the occasional spiders and the guards who call you Pie Boy. ("What's up today Pie Boy," they say. "Kill anybody with your pie today Pie Boy," they say. The guards are not very creative.) And your pie - your sweet, delicious Hostess® Fruit Pie, whom you cannot accept, and who will never forget you. Labels: pie
posted by fafnir at 5:56 PM
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