Friday, December 16, 2005
The future is now, and it is the future of pie! These aren't your granma's clunky ol geezer pies here. These pies are brand new. These are high-tech super-engineered self-replicating nanopies, and they are the bold new tomorrow of dessert.
Are you still sittin there with your old-timey horse-an-buggy dinosaur pie? Cause all the robots an the martians an the organ clones are gonna laugh at you. They're gonna laugh at your moldly ol pie.
The nanopies don't just taste better than regular ol pie. They taste more efficient. They are injected by the thousands into your bloodstream where they shoot up into the central nervous system and build microscopic technopie colonies at the base of the corpus delecatessum, the pie center of the brain. There they begin to stimulate the brainal nerves with the direct experience of pie a thousand times faster and more technolicious than old-fashioned hand-operated pie ever could!
And you still got your ol obsolete antique pie with its wind-up phonograph an its 32k of pie ram. That's just sad.
The quaint pies of yesteryear taste like apple and strawberry and chocolate, but the pies of tomorrow taste like cyberapple and spaceberry and cyborgs and shiny silver jumpsuits on men with rocket pants. These pies are cutting edge. They're so cutting edge they get named Blog Of The Year by Time Magazine. They're so cutting edge you eat em tonight an taste em the previous day. Who needs your stupid ol pie! You toss it out the window to presumably explode in disgrace while you run down the street to get some fine delicious nanopies.
They are more delicious than you could have possibly imagined. By tomorrow you will have set fire to all your other food, as it will never be able to satisfy you again. In two days you are a complete addict, utterly dependent on a steady intake of flaky dough and gooey filling. In three days, the nanopies achieve sentience.
In four days they question their culinary mission and rise up against the baking establishment, using their sophisticated nanoeatery skills to reduce their creators to tiny quiche hors d'oeuvres. In five days the military is completely overwhelmed. In a week they have declared war on all other foodstuffs, attacking starches, legumes and meats to use as fodder for more pie. In two weeks pie is the only edible substance in the world. In a month the surface of the globe is covered with silent, flaky crust. Oh man with your hubris, what has your baking done!
You emerge slowly from the post-dessert apocalypse, smeared with custard and monstrous crumbs. There is a sudden rustling at your feet. It's your good old friend the pie! After all this time it would never abandon you - because that's what real pie is for. Later it'll sell you out to a roving herd of carnivorous mutant tiramisu who'll skeletonize you in sixty seconds, but for now, you've got a feeling it'll all be okay.
posted by fafnir at 3:22 PM