Skittle Juice
Jun 28 '02
The Bottom Line What was the term? Biographical fiction? My Skittle Juice tale...
My grandma and I were driving up north a couple weeks ago. She complained about my driving a lot. I always seemed to make mistakes, like I was too close to some car, or I was driving too fast, and little things like I wasn't staying on my side of the road. Really, my grandma complains too much, so I turned my attention to the open bag of Skittles next to me.
If Mountain Dew is my lifeblood (and it is), then Skittles must be my soul. Is there really anything better then Skittles? Those little bits of solidified rainbows, those chewy, fruity, gooey, delicious sugar spheres that stick to your fillings and make your jaw hurt. No, there can't be anything better.
Drowning out my grandma with all this Skittle thought and Skittle munching, I was slowly eating away at the bag. Slowly, because as much as I love Skittles, I hardly ever devour them by the handful. That not only insures I savor every colorful bite, but also protects from the dangers of Skittle Juice. Skittle Juice is the viscous by-product of chewing Skittles. It tricks you by tasting so sweet then sliding down the back of your throat. Once there it stays there until it collects and forms a sticky coating, usually choking you. Never trust Skittle Juice, or think you can handle it in large amounts, it always wins.
Since I was trying to keep my eye on the road, portion control was difficult. I always seemed to get a huge handful of Skittles and the temptation to go head to head with the Skittle Juice kept gnawing at my brain. If a couple Skittles taste great, wouldn't a whole handful taste even better? The Skittle Juice was calling me, mocking me, and telling me I was chicken, too afraid to try. Gutless, I continued to eat just two or three at a time.
When the three-way battle between my ego, rational thought, and Skittle Juice got to be too much, I turned back to my grandma's ranting. At this point in time I seemed to be driving on the white line. My grandma informed me that I could get a ticket for such behavior, even though I know such information to be false. It was at that moment that rational thought jumped ship. Stupidly, I popped a whole handful of Skittles into my mouth.
While explaining the law's stance on driving on the white line, I remained cool and slowly chewed the Skittles, being mindful of the juice at all times. I was taking a risk, chewing so many at once produces a lot of Skittle Juice to contend with. As I was getting down to the last of it without choking I thought I had done it. I had finally won the great battle. And that's when it happened, I choked.
It wasn't a normal choke, where you cough or gag a little, it was a Skittle Choke, one that steals your breath and refuses to give it back. I stopped thinking for a second, trying to keep my attention on the road ahead of me instead of the air theft going on inside me. And still, I couldn't breath. Surely the breath would come, it always has, but for one panic stricken second I wondered, is it really possible to die from Skittle Juice inhalation?
Finally, a small syrupy breath came, though it seemed to be trying to convince me that Skittle Juice really is a lethal weapon. I tried to cough, but it came out all wrong, robbing me of even more precious air. I gasped, succeeding in bringing in more air then Skittle Juice this time, just enough to cough up the murderous red syrup.
It was about the time of the gasp that my grandma realized something was wrong and asked me if I was okay. I thought of asking to be taken to the hospital, or at least given a medal for bravery, and decided against it. Instead, I tried to say yes, but it came out choked and small, still stifled by all the juice. And yet, my grandma wasn't worried about the internal struggle I went through, though she did ask if I was sure I was alright. I could have died, and probably would have if the Skittle Juice God (or whatever oversees Skittle Juice) hadn't decided to spare me one more time. Realizing I was overreacting, just a bit, I went on to tell her that it was "only Skittle Juice" and that I was fine. If she only knew the horrors I had just been through.
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in-dependent
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Location: Battle Creek, MI
Reviews written: 38
Trusted by: 19 members
About Me:
"There seemed to be only darkness, and no one in it but her."
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