If there was a way to buy Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ right now, I’d do it in an instant. Then I’d buy more, and then I’d buy more, and I’d keep buying and buying until I ran out of money, and then I’d sell everything I own just to buy even more. Who needs worldly possessions anyway? One serving of Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ gives you all the necessary nutrients to start off your day all on its own. What else could I possibly need? Nothing! I need nothing else. I just need to hold a box of Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ in my arms - to feel the soothing cardboard press against my chest - to hear the faint rattle of those sugary little flakes hidden inside - just me and Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ - the perfect union between a woman and her cereals.

I know that these words are pure madness, but knowing doesn’t change the intensity of my feelings. I would sacrifice everything for Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. I know that for a fact, because I already did it once. It happened several years ago in a local mall, and it all began with ten terrible words that would mark the end of my normal life:

“Hello Miss, would you like to participate in a survey?” - It was a young man, holding a clipboard, his bright orange shirt sporting a name tag which I didn’t bother to read. There were a bunch of others, dressed just like him, hurrying through the mall, talking to the various customers. - “Watch a few videos. Answer some questions. Just a few minutes,” he said with a bored drawl. He sounded as enthusiastic as a college student doing homework for his least favorite class.

“What kind of videos?” I asked.

“Some commercials,” he said. “For a bunch of products that haven’t come out yet. I have at least never heard about any of them myself.” His gaze grew a bit more distant. “Bloody shame about that. That car looks sweet. I mean -” For the first time during our short conversation something like passion flickered across his features. He kept staring at a point right next to my ears, nodding to himself. “Can you imagine - driving an Augury Alpha™ up the curb. Everybody looking… So damn sweet…” He raised his hands, as if gripping an invisible steering wheel. I cleared my throat.

“Yeah - sorry. Not interested,” I said. The sound of my voice made him snap out of his daydream. His eyes focused back on me. The bored expression returned almost instantly.

“Uh - Well... You get a coupon if you participate,” he said. “Five dollars off for any purchase of 50 dollars or more - eligible in most shops in the mall. Just a few minutes of your time.”

"Oh. In that case - Sure,” I said. How could I have known that this decision would lead to the complete destruction of my life?

“Great,” he said, still speaking with the same bored intonation. “Then just follow me, miss. It’s right over there.”

His group had set up camp in the little open area between the donuts shop and the little fountain at the center of the mall. There were a bunch of booths made out of moveable dividers. The man led me to one of these, and pushed the curtains at the entrance aside. Inside the booth was just enough space for a chair and a little table holding a computer screen, a pair of cheap headphones and a square controller with only two buttons.

“There’s five short video segments - several commercials each time,” he said. “The right button starts the next segment. Left button if you want to rewatch the previous one.”

“Rewatch it? Do I have to watch them more than once?” I asked. This was starting to sound a bit annoying. Was that stupid coupon really worth all of this trouble?

“Naaah,” he said. “We just like to give people the option. I mean, If somebody watches these things more than once - all voluntarily - then that kinda means we have a great commercial on our hands, right?” He gave me a tired grin. “You don’t have to though.” He handed me a thick stack of papers.

“That’s two pages for each segment,” he said. “Just fill them out and hand them over to Kelly. That’s the blond woman sitting at the table over there.” He pointed to somebody positioned closer to the fountain. “And that’s pretty much it. Any questions?”

I shook my head and looked at the survey. The questions seemed pretty standard: What was the name of the advertised product? - How likely are you to buy the product? - How did the commercial make you feel about the product? - Did you feel any adverse physical effects from watching the commercial? If yes, please circle the appropriate one: Nausea - Headache - Vertigo …

I sat down, slipped the headphones over my ears, and pressed the right button. The first video started. About six or seven commercials for some washing detergent, each about half a minute long. Just a bunch of housewives praising the vibrant colors of their clothes, or baffling their neighbors by getting some terrible stain out of their new blouse. It was all extremely generic. I felt myself zoning half out about midway.

The video ended. I filled out the questionnaire. I pressed the right button. The next video started.

This time the product was a brand of sports car I had never heard of. Each of the ads played out pretty much the same: Some nerdy guy was being heckled or harassed by a bunch of buff jerks, until he got into his car, at which point a wave of busty and barely-clad supermodels instantly swarmed him, loudly proclaiming their eternal love. Then he’d drive off into the sunset with his newly acquired harem, while his former tormentors looked after him in shame and humiliation. I was at the kinda offensive, and insanely boring at the same time.

The video ended. I filled out the questionnaire. I pressed the right button. The next video started.

By now I had noticed that watching these videos, and filling out the survey afterwards, took me way longer than five minutes each time. Finishing all of them would take way more than half an hour. I really had not expected this stupid thing to take this long, but by now I had already invested more than fifteen minutes onto this whole ordeal - way too much to just break it off. Might as well rush through those remaining three segments and grab that damn coupon, I thought to myself.

The current video was about a brand of breakfast cereals - Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. I began answering the survey even while the ads were still playing, only tangentially paying attention. The video ended. I had already filled out the questionnaire. My hand hovered over the right button, ready to start the next video. I hesitated.

Something seemed vaguely off. There was an intense emotion in the back of my mind, but despite its intensity I was unable to pinpoint what I was feeling exactly - a strange contradictory condition. I focused on the emotion, tried to grasp its outlines. What was it that I was feeling? What about these boring cereal commercials could possibly have triggered this sensation? Had there been something unusual in them? Something disgusting or upsetting maybe? I hadn’t really watched them, but maybe my subconsciousness had picked up something that had happened on the screen.

I tried to recall the plot of each clip, trying to find any element that didn’t fit. What about that commercial right at the end, when the little kid tricked two bumbling burglars into a bunch of home-alone-style traps by using Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ as bait. There had been a scene right at the end of the ad, showing the two criminals in prison, strapped to electric chairs, writhing in pain as deadly currency ran through their bodies. Was I remembering this right? This didn’t seem real. This was way too brutal for a silly little commercial like this. My memory clearly was mistaken here.

My hand still hovered over the remote. I could just ignore the feeling and push on. Doing anything else would just lead to me wasting even more time watching ads, and yet... My curiosity won out. I pressed the left button. The video started again. This time I focused on what was happening.

-

A family fights about what to have for breakfast, each member wanting something completely different until the mother serves Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™, which satisfies everyone.

A snooty old woman sits in a fancy restaurant, sending all the luxurious food she is served back to the kitchen, until the chef’s clever assistant brings her a bowl of Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™, leading to every other patron staring in enny, then ordering the same.

A soccer team is badly losing their match, until their coach has them eat a serving of Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ during half-time, giving them superhuman strength.

Two shoppers race each other through a supermarket to get to the last box of Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™, only to crash into each other right before the finish line, just as some cheeky little girl snatches the package away from them.

-

And then - There it was. Finally. The very last ad:

-

Two bumbling burglars break into a house, only to stumble into a series of traps set by the little kid living there. A bowl of Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ serves as the bait each time, and the two criminals are unable to resist. They fall down stairs, get squashed by the massive fridge, get stuck in a bathtub filled with glue and finally end up trapped in a net, dangling from the chandelier in the living room. A bowl of Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ stands right beneath them, just out of reach, and they desperately stretch their arms towards it, even as the police arrives.

The two get arrested, while a box of Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ stands in the foreground, surrounded by some catchy slogans. A new scene fades in.

The two criminals sit next to each other in front of some dreary metal bars, wearing striped prison uniforms. The two of them were however not strapped to electric chairs, writhing in agony. They are just sitting at a table, looking quite miserable, until a guard steps to their side and puts two servings of Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ in front of them. They stare at each other in disbelief, and a smile slowly appears on their face, at which part the video ends.

-

I was staring at the black screen, trying to process what I had just watched. There had been nothing strange about that last commercial - no display of extreme violence, cruelty and death - only some slapstick pratfalls. The strange feeling was still there in the back of my mind however. Something was not right with those commercials. That last ad had been completely normal, but maybe there had been something off in one of the other clips?

What about the very first one - with the family at the breakfast table. There had been one quick zoom through the room. For a split second the recording had shown something lying on the floor - a body - white and unnaturally contorted - a rotting corpse, only vaguely humanoid. Was my memory wrong again? I needed to check. I clicked the left button. The video played again.

Yes, there was something lying on the floor, except it wasn’t a corpse, it was just the family dog with white shaggy fur, happily wagging its tail. I massaged my temples. The strange feeling had by now turned into a dense throbbing sensation encompassing my whole brain. Something was wrong… something… The soccer game… In the clip with the soccer team, just when the whole team had been happily munching their cereals, there had been something standing just outside their break room - a faceless creature, staring through the little window from the field outside even without eyes, trying to squeeze in through the glass. I pressed the left button. The video played again.

Yes, there was a figure peering in at the soccer players, except it wasn’t some otherworldly apparition. It was a member of the opposing team, staring at them with obvious hunger and envy. Okay - so it wasn’t this clip either. But what about the segment in the restaurant? All those fancy meals the snooty old lady had been presented at first - those had been raw entrails and human limbs, hadn’t they? I pressed the left button. The video played again, and again and again…

Each time the horrific details my mind had imagined turned out to be nothing. These were all just completely normal ads. Then what was that strange feeling inside of my head? It was driving me crazy. The video ended once more. I pressed the left button without even having to think about it. The video started again.

By now I was intimately familiar with each little clip. It was kinda nice to revisit them - warm and comfortable. These ads reminded me of when I was a little kid, getting up really early on Saturday morning to watch cartoons while my parents were still soundly asleep. Those had been wonderful moments back then. I’d sit snuggled in a blanket in front of the big screen, and since my mom had hidden away any actual sweets, I would grab myself a box of sugary cereals and munch them straight out of the box, while commercials exactly like these ones would pop up every now and then.

Maybe this was the source of that mysterious feeling. I had assumed that something wrong and disturbing in those ads had triggered my reaction, but maybe the sensation was simply nostalgia. Yes - this thought began to make sense. There was nothing scary here, just a pleasant warmth.

The video ended. I pressed the left button. It started again.

These ads were actually really good. During the bit in the restaurant I found myself laughing out loud at the old lady’s facial expressions. This was way funnier than any comedy I had ever seen. When the two shoppers raced through the supermarket, my blood was pumping, and I was at the edge of my seat, as if I was watching a high class action movie, and when the two burglars dangled in the net, trying to reach the bowl beneath them, I felt myself tearing up in compassion. I could understand the unbearable pain of being separated from Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™.

Once more there was that final close-up of the box of Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. I stared at it completely frozen in my seat. I couldn’t help but feel as if it was staring right back at me from beyond the screen. My cheeks flushed. My heart fluttered nervously. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ was looking at me… - at ME!

I felt as if I was fifteen again, sitting on a bench during gym class right as Malcolm Harris jogs by, his golden locks bouncing a bit with every step, and he lifts his shirt to wipe some sweat off his face, and for a short second I get a glimpse at his stomach, and just then his head turns towards me, and he catches me staring, and my face floods with heat, and he grins at me with that stupid sideway grin that he thinks makes him look so cool, except this time it actually does, and my heart feels like it wants to jump out of my chest and into his arms, and Malcolm turns his upper body to keep eye contact with me, except it’s not Malcolm Harris at all - it’s Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ - and then…

The video ended. I instantly snapped out of the confusing little fantasy. I still could feel the hotness lingering in my cheeks. It was hard to think with all these emotions swirling in my brain. My hand reached out. It pressed the left button…

The screen remained black. I pressed the button once more, then I pressed it even harder. The video still refused playing. My finger slammed onto the remote with increasing intensity. Still nothing. I slowly grew aware of a hushed argument happening just outside my booth. Two people were exchanging irritated whispers.

“Sorry, could I see the video again?” I said loudly. The voices stopped their conversation for a moment, then continued their fight with a more heated tone. I tried once more. “The video! Can I see it again? I need to see it again, please. Hello?!” - For a moment there was silence. Then the screen flickered back to life, and any other thought I might have had was instantly gone.

There it was again - Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ - so manly, daring, and confident. How would it feel to date a cereal like that. Some part of me knew that this thought was utterly silly - if not outright insane. It would be absolutely impossible for me to actually date Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ could have any woman he wanted. Why would he choose somebody like me? And yet I could vividly picture us together. With every second I kept looking at the video the vision became more concrete.

-

We’d meet for the first time in a little coffee shop. I stumble into him, and spill a cup of espresso all over my nice white blouse. The accident is clearly my fault. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ apologizes profusely anyway offering to repay me for my ruined clothes. I tell him that it’s really no problem - I have this amazing new washing detergent that will fix this whole mess. He laughs and offers to at least invite me to a fresh espresso over at his table. I accept the invitation.

Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ turns out to be a great listener. He just sits there quietly, his box nestled into the seat opposite me, and eagerly listens as I talk about the troubles at my job, my awful co-workers, and the revolutionary new anti-dirt formula of OxyScrub HyperWash™. Time flies by, and as the sun starts to set we agree to see each other again.

The very next Sunday he picks me up for the movies. I hurry out to meet him in the driveway, and hold my breath the second I see his sexy sports car. It’s not just any car - it’s the new Augury Alpha™, the car that drives the women wild. I jump into the passenger seat. We set off. My eyes keep wandering over to him as we make our way downtown. I pretend that I am merely reading the nutritional values at the side of his package, when I am actually admiring his perfectly rectangular body. He pretends not to notice.

We get to the cinema, and once there we sit so close together that I can make out the enticingly sweet pineapple scent coming from him. Is there a hint of nutmeg and cinamon as well? It’s so mouth-wateringly distracting. I reach out to grab a handful of popcorn, but completely overreach. My fingers accidentally brush against the top of his box. I freeze in panic. He doesn’t react at first, but then he suddenly opens his top hatch enticingly, giving me a sideway smirk.

A sudden daring heat rushes through me. I find myself reaching out once more. My hand slips into his box, the tips of my fingers softly brushing against the plastic bag hidden inside. This is so wrong, and yet so enticing. My heart wants to jump out of my chest, and I glance around with a mix of panic and excitement, fearing that one of the other movie-goers might have noticed our naughty little play. They’re all focused on the large screen. My hand slips even deeper into the box. The shy little touch turns into a full caress. Soon I am full on searching for the super-cool toy that comes with every box. I’m not usually like this - but a girl just can’t say no to an Augury Alpha™ male.

Later he drives me home, and just as he wants to give me a good-night kiss I pull him into my apartment, unable to contain my lust. We end up in my bedroom. He lies on the sheets, while I sensuously strip out of my clothes, and then he does the same sliding out of his box, revealing the plastic bag inside, and then the bag opens, spreading its content onto the sheets, and I jump onto the mattress in blind heat. Any moment now those honey-coated cereal crisps will slide against me, exploring my naked skin like a hundred sticky tongues.

“You know - ” I whisper, just as my panties slip past my ankles. “We can be as wild and dirty as we want tonight - because OxyScrub HyperWash™ gets out even the most persistent stains.” And I lean forward, lips parted, and -

-

The video ended. The sudden way I was catapulted back into reality gave me vertigo. Everything was spinning. My hand was already slamming on the button, trying to restart the video. The screen remained black.

“CAN I WATCH IT AGAIN?” I shouted. “HELLO? I NEED TO WATCH IT AGAIN! CAN I WATCH IT AGAIN PLEASE?”

The arguing voices were back. They were louder now, so loud that I should have been able to listen in on their conversation, but I was too occupied with aggressively hitting the replay button. Light fell onto me. Somebody had pulled away the curtain to my booth. One person shouted something at the other, and I raised my own voice, trying to out-volume them.

“CAN I WATCH IT AGAIN? I NEED TO WATCH IT AGAIN! THE VIDEO - I NEED TO WATCH IT AGAIN!”

They grabbed my shoulders and started to pull me away from the screen. A deep panic settled in my chest. I grabbed hold of the table. I couldn’t allow them to take me. I needed to see the video again. They pulled even harder. The monitor started dangerously wobbling back and forth, threatening to topple over at any moment.

“WAIT! STOP! I NEED TO SEE IT AGAIN! PLEASE! I NEED TO SEE IT AGAIN!” - My hands lost their grip. The whole table fell towards me. The monitor crashed to the ground, its screen cracking apart. Tiny shards of broken plastic rolled over the marble tiles. I felt cold. Darkness began to close in on the edge of my vision. A pounding headache caused the whole world to spin and twist.

“Please…” I said, my voice a weak whisper. “I need to see the video. I need to see it again… Yumly… Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™…” - and then I passed out.

*

I opened my eyes. I felt wet and sticky and sweaty, and the world was still spinning. I took a few moments for me to understand that I had been stuffed into one of the mall’s restroom stalls. My left arm was lying in the toilet, soaked up to the elbow in the filthy water. My right hand was clutching a crumpled piece of paper. With some mental effort I managed to uncurl my fingers. I was holding a five dollar gift coupon. I struggled to my feet and exited the stall. The large mirror on the opposite wall immediately revealed my dismal state. My eyes were bloodshot. My make-up had been smudged across half of my face. My pantyhose was torn and one of my heels had broken off, causing each step to turn into a wobbly stumble.

None of this mattered. There was only one thing that did matter. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. I staggered towards the restroom exit. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. That was all I could think about. I stepped out into the mall. Everybody was staring at me. I ignored them all. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™.

Maybe the survey people had a box somewhere. Or maybe they would allow me to see the video again. I made my way back to the fountain, but when I got there they were gone. They must have left in a hurry. The booths were still there, as were the chairs, the tables and a whole bunch of scattered papers. I lumbered mindlessly around the area, picking through the remnants. No Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ anywhere.

I needed it. Where could I find it? Supermarket. There are breakfast cereals in the supermarket. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ is a breakfast cereal. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ is in the supermarket. - It took an awfully long time for my mind to form even this simple chain of thoughts. There was a supermarket right here in the mall - down on the lower floor. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. They were there, waiting for me. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™.

I was shivering like a heroin addict. My mind was consumed by a burning fever. An endless chain of one and the same thought blocked out anything else. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™.

I stepped into the store, blindly reaching for the first product I could find. Whole wheat flour. This wasn’t Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ at all. I dropped the package to the ground and grabbed the next one. An identical pack of whole wheat flour. I dropped it, grabbed the next one, dropped it on the floor, and the next, and the next,… None of these were Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. My motions grew more rapid. I needed to find it. Where was it hidden.

“Uhm - miss… Can I help you?” I turned my head and found a store clerk standing a few feet away, his hands held up in a calming gesture, palms turned towards me.

“Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™?” I said.

“Uhm - I don’t… I don’t think we have that.” He smiled and slowly began to step closer, careful to avoid the mess I had left on the floor all around me. “Maybe we can…”

“Start the day the right way - with a fruity crunch that gives you all the nutrients you need.” I explained. “Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™!”

“We don’t… have that…”

“The fresh flavor of pineapple meets the smooth sweetness of wild honey,” I said. “Extra awesome toy in every box!”

“Listen, is there maybe somebody we could call? Just somebody who -”

“Get a hunch. Taste the crunch. - Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™,” I said. I was speaking slowly and over-enunciating every syllable, just to make sure to get my message across. This man was of no help at all. Was he deliberately trying to keep the delicious Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ all for himself? I turned back to the aisle and continued pulling random items from the shelves, digging deeper and deeper as I continued my search.

“MISS! STOP THAT! STOP! MISS” His voice drifted from behind me, but I kept going undeterred.

“Juicy, tasty, crunchy - great!” I shot back. He made a final step towards me and reached out.

“Okay - sorry. You need to leave.” His fingers tightened against my shoulder. “You need to leave, right now, or else I’ll -”

Just as he was starting to pull I turned. The motion was so sudden that he lost his balance, stumbling across the various packs of flour scattered all around me. I lashed out at him. We both landed on the floor, me on top. My hand clawed out, trying to slash his throat with my nails.

“YUMLY PINEAPPLE-HONEY-CRUNCH™! YUMLY PINEAPPLE-HONEY-CRUNCH™!” I shouted. This man was an enemy. This man was trying to prevent me from getting the crunch I so desperately needed. He was hiding them from me. He was hiding them. “YUMLY PINEAPPLE-HONEY-CRUNCH™! YUMLY PINEAPPLE-HONEY-CRUNCH™!”

The clerk had been able to catch my wrist as I tried to strike down at him. For a moment he managed to push my hand away from his neck, but now his strength was starting to give in. Something gave me tremendous power. Any inner limits had been swept away. Pure adrenaline rushed through my raving body. Every muscle was operating at its maximum capacity with no regard for potential injury or longtime damage. It didn’t matter what would happen to me in the long run. The only thing that mattered was Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. I pushed against his resistance and felt it slowly crumbling.

The man was screaming for help by now, but I was screaming louder: “YUMLY PINEAPPLE-HONEY-CRUNCH™! YUMLY PINEAPPLE-HONEY-CRUNCH™! IT’S LIKE A SUMMER PARTY ON YOUR TONGUE!” - I felt the warm skin of his throat against my nails, felt the first trickle of blood escape against my fingertips. He was hiding the Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™ from me. He was hiding them in his chest. All I had to do was to crack open his rib cage and I’d be able to slurp them up from between his entrails. Red color clouded my vision. My mind was nearly gone. All that remained was blind animal rage and the feral hunger for crunchy breakfast cereals that lives deep within us all.

*

If I had succeeded in actually disemboweling the store clerk, they would probably have locked me away for good, but some shoppers rushed to his rescue and pulled me off him. He got away with a few scratches and mild bruises. I got away with not becoming an insane murderer. I don’t remember any of this happening. I don’t remember much of anything about the following few weeks, but I know that I was brought to a mental ward.

My mind kept dipping in and out of my psychotic state, heavily sedated,filled with nothing but pictures of honey-glazed flakes - roasted wheat sprinkled with tasty pineapple-powder. It took months until I could form coherent thoughts once more, and even longer to re-learn the most basic tasks, like eating any kind of regular food, or speaking a sentence that wasn’t a commercial slogan. It took me three years to recover

When I finally got released from the institute, everything had changed. A global pandemic had hit the planet while I had been locked away. The local mall where my former life had come to an end had closed down for good during the first lock-down. If there ever had been any records about the group who had done the survey, they were gone by now. I searched for any clues about the events of that day. The only evidence that it had happened at all came from a small local newspaper - a three sentence article titled ‘Woman attacks Store Clerk’. It contained nothing useful. The events of that day had shattered my entire existence, but the world had bigger problems to deal with, and so I was left alone to pick up the shattered fragments alone.

I can live a nearly normal life by now. I can get up in the morning and eat a slice of toast without fighting against my gag reflex. I can hold a job, and pay my rent, and sometimes I might even go out and spend an evening among friends. - But then, late at night, an irresistible urge will come over me. I will log onto the internet, and I will spend hours upon hours just searching for any hint of Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™.

When I don’t find anything, I’ll start to look at pictures of other cereals. I will save the best ones in a special folder, so that I can flip through them, the burning craving coursing through me, my body turning hot, my breath going in little gasps, faster and faster, until my urge finally reaches its climax, and then I will curl up on the bed, my face squeezed against the pillow, red with shame and guilt and humiliation.

‘It’s okay,’ I try to tell myself in these moments. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong. Those are just pictures on your computer. You haven’t actually cheated on Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™. It’s not like you are actually keeping other cereals in your pantry.’ - But the guilt remains.

During my more rational days - like today - I can tell that I am getting worse. A deep panic spreads in those moments. How much longer until I shamble through the streets once more, ripping open the chests of random passer-byes to slurp their organs?

It’s an utterly horrifying vision, and yet I don’t know how I could ever stop myself… I might vow today that I will stop, but tomorrow I’ll be back at it again, because there is no amount of therapy that could ever stop me from loving you, Yumly Pineapple-Honey-Crunch™.

And once they start selling you in stores, and those ads start playing everywhere, everyone else will love you just as much.