It began like any other Thursday morning. Friends and family were gathered to continue celebrating the post-Easter survival. Everyone said it would be "easy sailing" until the Christmas season. At 8:47 in the morning a dark figure emerged from behind the cereal isle. I had never seen such an ominous creature in my life. And life growing up in the candy factory was not without its share of nefarious workers.
In a flash, I found myself in a plastic bag with an uncertain amount of my closest relatives and friends. I now know the true number to be 150. We were on our way out of our home, and into unknown territory. Uncle Tony's cries still echo through my marshmallowey brain. Underneath the cries, a deep, bellowing laugh emanated from the dark figure... it was "the Manimal."
Within moments, the Marsh family was gone. All 5 of them were devoured by "the Manimal." And he wasn't stopping there. Aunt Mallow and her 3 kids were next. Words cannot do justice to the horror to follow. Countless companions were consumed. One by one, kinsmen were devoured, all the while being assigned numbers. It was then that I found my number to be 145. My dearest friend and mallow-mate Marsha was #144. We've always stuck close together. When she got into a sticky situation with an old acquaintance (#143), I was there for her. It took months of counseling, but we persevered. All we wanted was to raise a family of little chicks of our own... a dream in direct opposition of this unrelenting "Manimal."
"141!" echoed the croud as Aunt May was stripped from us. The people cried out "142!" as Uncle Pedro was gobbled up. Could this really be the end? My own block was now being attacked! Before I could blink my little wax eyes, only Marsha and I remained. The wounds are still too fresh to discuss the demise of my beloved mallow-mate. One thing is for certain; she was too sweet for "the Manimal." He moaned like a little baby chick-mallow after ingesting poor Marsha. The crowd seemed disappointed in "the Manimal's" sheepish efforts to continue on his rampage with me, number 145. It is clear that Marsha's super sweet mallow-core saved my life. She was the perfect combination of sugar, corn syrup, and gelatin. I will never forget her. Be assured that "the Manimal" and his cronies will pay for their acts of mallow-cide! I will make sure of it. "The Manimal" made a huge mistake in letting me live. Sweet revenge will be mine.
I am now in the PEEPs-Protection Agency. Memories of "the Manimal" haunt me to this day. Revenge is nigh, "Manimal"... you had best sleep with one eye open.
I'd like to give a shout out to all my PEEPs in Eatontown. Let us not forget their struggle and strength, and remember them always for their marshmallowey goodness.
- PEEP #145
Update: A Change of Heart